We will make it through

Lars stared at the boy kneeling on the floor in front of them. Their brain fucking ached with shock, with horror, with borderline revulsion as their eyes skipped over the bruises Marcus had left on his wrists, on the tears that streamed freely down his cheeks. They struggled to put each event of the past few minutes in a row: Jake came and told them they needed to go into lockdown. Celeste herded all the patients from the waiting room into the back, then shut them all into a clinic room with Raye. Jake picked up the fucking stapler from their desk to use as a weapon; it was the closest thing to a weapon they had in the entire clinic, since the aluminum broom handle probably wouldn’t have done much more than scare anyone trying to come in. And then Marcus had knocked on the door with a face like state-sanctioned death itself, dragging the boy and throwing him at Lars’s feet. Now Marcus was fuck knows where doing fuck knows what, and the boy – though he was probably pretty close to Lars’s big age of twenty-four – was still crying like his guts were hanging out of his body.

The thing that Lars’s stupid fucking brain kept fixating on, though, was how incredibly fucking pretty the guy was. Full lips, long lashes framing large brown eyes, tan skin so clear it looked like paper. They blinked.

I don’t need this. Of all things, of all weeks, I don’t fucking need this.

Jake was still staring at the door where Marcus had disappeared. Lars swallowed their exhaustion and their shitty fucking mood, and knelt on the floor in front of the guy.

Tobias. He said his name was Tobias.

“Um… hey,” they said softly. “You okay? I’m… I’m sorry about… Hey, it’s okay.”

Tobias held a trembling hand to his mouth and shook his head desperately. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I sh-shouldn’t have tagged your building. I’m really, really sorry.”

Lars blinked. “That… that was you?” A half-hysterical laugh bubbled from their throat. “‘Fuck the system’? ‘Fuck AMTEC’? What was that… baby’s first activism? Come on, man, why were you tagging this particular building with that shit?”

Tobias gulped and took a steadying breath. “B-because… there were no security cameras,” he whispered.

Lars rolled their eyes. “What, and you didn’t think a building with cars outside and no security cameras might be doing some fucking of AMTEC of our own?” They groaned as they got to their feet. Tobias stayed on his knees.

“…no,” he said in a small voice. “No, I didn’t think of that.”

They heaved a sigh and held out a hand to him. “Well, get up, dipshit. Sorry to scare you.” He gingerly took their hand and got to his feet. Jake was still staring out the door to the waiting room. Tears stood in his eyes.

“Come on, Jake,” Lars murmured. “We’ll figure out where he went in a bit. We should let everyone know that we’re not… you know… under siege or something.” They turned and rapped on the first exam room door. There was a shriek from inside. “We’re all good,” they said loudly. “Just a little misunderstanding. Marcus caught someone… uh… loitering outside.” They kept themself from laughing, but only just.

Fuck, it had been a long week.

The door clicked open, and Celeste, Raye, and two patients peeked out. They all stared at Tobias.

Tobias’s crying had at least slowed down. Jake was silent, and he swiped at his eyes.

“Jesus, what did he do to him?” Celeste grumbled.

“I really am sorry,” said Tobias. “I was just… just fucking around and I… I shouldn’t have—”

Lars waved their hand. “It’s fine. He’s fine. Marcus is just, uh, jumpy.”

Underselling it a bit, but that was fine. Their skin prickled at the memory of Marcus launching himself at the hammer in Lars’s spare room, raising it to bash their skull in. The only thing that stopped him was his own blood loss. He had shoved them into a wall, too, when they got between him and Jake.

They’d never seen him like this, though. Face blank, voice flat, like it was someone else behind his eyes.

No. Not someone else. Like there was nothing there. Nothing but orders put into him so he could spit them back out in the form of bullets and flashing knives. Like he was a machine, a thing.

They’d never seen him look like a Lev. Until now. Until today.

“I need to go after him,” Jake whispered.

“No, you don’t.” Lars opened the other two clinic rooms. They were empty. “He’ll come back. Or he’ll meet us at home. But he would kill me if he found out I let you wander off on your own, after…” They dipped their head at him.

He might actually kill me. And I’m just not in the mood to risk that.

“He must be… fuck, he must be so…” Jake swallowed hard.

“However he’s feeling, I’ve got other shit going on,” Lars snapped. “Celeste, would you mind going back out front? I think someone else has an appointment soon, and I don’t want her showing up to an empty waiting room.” They nudged the other patients toward the door. “You can head out there too, and I’ll be out in a bit. I need to get my shit together and… and I’ll be right out. Okay? We’ll get started.” They ran their fingers through their hair.

Tobias just stared at them. “What is this place?” he breathed. “What are you…? What goes on here?”

“What the fuck, why not?” Lars threw up their hands. “Marcus already marched your happy ass in here. It’s an HRT clinic. So if you don’t mind, I’m gonna get back to handling that. This is sort of the last thing I needed. No offense. You can go out the way you came in.” They turned to go.

Tobias took a step forward. “W-wait, well… do you need… more people? I’ve been trying to find a job, but uh… turns out it’s kinda hard to find a job.” He let out a weak laugh.

Lars slowly turned. “It’s all volunteer here,” they said flatly. “We wouldn’t be able to pay you. So, no, not really.” Their eyes darted over him once more, taking in his designer clothes – even if they were a little worn – as well as his ten-step-skincare-routine complexion. “Unless you’re interested in doing some charity work, rich boy.”

Rich boy’s cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of pink. “I’m not rich,” he hissed. “Not—” He didn’t finish whatever thought had been about to make its way out between his teeth. “But I… I do need money. Or at least a place to stay. Could I—”

“My guest room is full,” Lars snapped. “Do you even have any medical background, anyway?”

“No,” Tobias said, and his voice took on a hint of a whine. “But I… I did about two years of a business degree. I could help there, if you…?”

It was at this point that Lars realized Raye was still in the hall, staring at them. Lars blinked at him. “What?”

“Business help might be nice,” Raye said easily. “And I’ve got a couch.”

Lars ground their teeth. “Fine,” they said. “Rich boy stays with you. So long as I don’t have to fuckin’ deal with all this shit. Okay?” When they turned once more, Jake was still standing in the hall, looking moments away from breaking down. Raye led Tobias further into the clinic, and the two were alone.

Lars finally let out a shaking breath. “So,” they said awkwardly. “Have you ever… seen him like that?”

Jake’s brows pulled together. “Of course,” he said softly. “When we… when he had to… when we were on missions, yeah. And when he knew he was going to be… punished. That’s how he was. Always… flat. And… um…” He blinked, and two tears ran down his cheeks.

“Fuck,” Lars breathed. “So he thought he was going to be punished?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “That’s why he was asking for clarification. I don’t think he… remembered… where he was. I don’t think he realized we were out. I think he thought… he was still in. And that he…” He pressed his hand to his eyes. “Are we ever going to be out?”

“Hey. You are out.” Lars took Jake’s free hand and squeezed gently. “Okay? So his brain’s a little… fucked up. That’s to be expected, right? After all the time you spent in AMTEC? They fuck with your brains in there, right? With like… mind control, and shit?”

“I don’t know if it’s mind control,” Jake said. “But it’s… it’s conditioning. Torture. Following orders until your brain feels weird when there are no orders to follow. The chip when you hesitate. The whip when you mess up. And…” He wet his lips. “Worse. For Marcus.”

Lars didn’t ask him to elaborate. They had a feeling they knew.

“Another testing kit. You need to… to test me.”

They swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged awkwardly. “It’s over now,” he rasped. “He saved me. He got us out and… and saved me. But it’s still… in us, sometimes. In him. I was only in for a few months. Less than a year. He was in for… for so long. I don’t know how long exactly. I don’t know if he doesn’t remember, or if he doesn’t want to tell me. But… long. More than fifteen years, I think.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lars grunted.

“I swear,” Jake said. “He doesn’t want to be like this. Neither of us do.”

Lars held Jake’s gaze. “I know.” It felt a little like a concession, after the week they’d had. But on the other hand…

Fifteen years. Lars couldn’t even imagine. They liked to think they would hold up under torture, that they would tell AMTEC exactly how to shove it and where, that they would die before letting AMTEC break who they were… but just the thought of having the chip punched into their neck made them shudder. They couldn’t imagine having it activated. And to hold up under a whipping…

And then consignment. The constant, aching threat of being murdered if a defect was ever found. And they were bound to find one… because of all their fucking cameras.

No. Lars would crack after just a week of that. After just a few hours. They knew that.

But still.

“If he wants to keep coming around…” they said carefully. “He can’t keep—”

“I know,” Jake said. “I know. We’ll keep working on it, okay? I promise. He wants to get better too. He does.”

Lars snorted. “I mean… would he consider seeing a therapist?”

Jake shrugged. “At this point, I think he’d try just about anything.”

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