Unconditionally Conditional - Part Five
Title: Unconditionally Conditional 5/8 -- it's FINISHED!
Author: streamofwords -- OMG, streamedwords' secret smut alias
Pairing: Ambrose/Wyatt
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am merely a humble fan girl.
Rating: NC-17 -- definitely NC-17
Summary: Resistance Fighter Wyatt Cain finds himself being imprisoned by the sadistic Royal Court, facing a future of servitude. But is there an ally on his side?
Warning: Imprisonment, mind torture, violence, non-conishness, slavery, AU
Note: Hope you can follow all the stuff happening in this one -- another cliffhanger!
Ambrose was just finished up with a scheduled check-up for the Queen when the doors to his laboratory burst open. The Medics were wheeling in a pair of tables, slaves stretched out on them. Ambrose was already stepping over to the sinks, washing his hands before applying a fresh pair of gloves, calmly speaking over his shoulder. "Report?"
"Collapse at one of the work sites, Sir." A Medic informed him in clipped tones. "The one with the broken leg was under the structure when it fell. He was pushed out of the way by another slave, who took the brunt of the impact."
"Damage report?" Ambrose asked as he watched his staff beginning to move their monitoring devices over to the tables, getting ready to deal with the situation. He held a hand out blindly for them to put the charts of the slaves into it, to see if there were any possible allergic reactions that he should know about before he administered any drugs.
"Broken arm and leg. Probably some internal bleeding. He was unconscious when they hauled him from the rubble, so we suspect that there may be a concussion, or some swelling. His pulse is steady, but declining."
Ambrose shook his head, frowning as he flipped over the two charts. "Trying to be a hero, and look where it gets him. Idiot."
He paused, looking down at the second chart in his hand. Reading the name in disbelief. It seemed surreal. Ambrose dropped the charts, turning sharply towards the table behind him, a few steps rushing him to its side as he gasped out, "Wyatt!"
~~~~~~~~
Zero lingered outside of the doors of Ambrose's laboratory, watching the man operate with curiosity. He had heard a report that Wyatt Cain had gotten hurt trying to play hero for some slave down at a work site. The man had come to see for himself if it were true. All of the medics inside were so distracted by their work that they did not even notice him stepping in to watch the proceedings with interest.
He saw Ambrose hovering over Cain's table, the blond looking on the verge of death from his injuries. Cain's body was a bloody mess, as if Zero had treated him to ten beatings in a row. The Trainer leaned back against the wall by one of the sinks, arms folding across his chest as he smirked to himself. It looked pretty dire for the blond.
Zero's attention then shifted to Ambrose, and he became fixated on watching the Medic. Ambrose was snapping out commands and instructions to those in the room, his dark eyes on fire in a way Zero had never seen before. The normally composed Medic was on the verge of panic, though his sense of professionalism did not allow him to give into it. He was operating on Cain, where it appeared that the blond had some internal damage, his white gloves and the sleeves of his coat coated red with blood. Between commands, the Medic was whispering down to the unconscious blond. "Wyatt, stay with me. Just a little longer. Hold on."
They had given Cain some kind of shot, which seemed to steady the man's heart rate, if the monitors were any indication. A few Medics were tending to the more minor injuries, including where Cain's leg was at an awkward angle from the knee down, and his arm from its shoulder. They were getting them set while Ambrose worked, beginning to bind them with self-adhesive bandages. Zero saw them smear something onto the bandages that immediately began to harden into casts.
Ambrose hissed angrily when some of the Medics got too close to where he was working, or asked him questions. He snapped at them, sharply, "If you aren't assisting me directly, then kindly get the hell away!"
His frustration was apparent. Zero was impressed that the Medic could work up that kind of emotional energy. The Trainer watched as the other white-suited figures scattered, a few of them moving to assist those who had already about finished up with the other slave. Ambrose blinked hurriedly, concentrated where he worked, before the Medic cursed softly.
Zero saw him yank off those leather gloves. Saw him wash his hands. Saw him use his bare hands in order to grab those tools again, as he worked on Cain without the slick gloves slipping where they gripped the utensils. Ambrose's pale skin became smeared crimson as he worked, Zero appraising him intently. The Trainer pushed himself away from the wall, moving to slip back out through the doors, thoughtful.
~~~~~~~~~
When Cain woke up, he was surprised that there wasn't as much pain as he expected. The last thing that he remembered was when the structure was falling on him, and an intense wave of pain that swept him away into blackness. He knew that he had almost woken up at some point, that he'd realized that Ambrose was there calling his name. But Cain really couldn't be sure.
Opening up his eyes, the blond realized that he was inside of one of the recovery rooms in the Medical Sector. So he wasn't dead. Cain found that it was impossible for him to move at all, his limbs numb. He panicked for the first couple of seconds, wondering if he had been paralyzed. Yet his eyes were able to spot the IV line that was feeding down into his body at some point, and recognized the label from his time in Ambrose's lab. It was a sedative to keep the patient from moving around after a major surgery. Cain ceased his struggles, relaxing back into the softness of the bed.
His eyes shifted to the side, past the edge of his bed. Ambrose was slumped in a chair nearby, the Medic still dressed in a coat with bloody sleeves, his hands bare where they rested limply in his lap. He looked as if he had not slept much, considering the dark circles underneath his eyes. Cain did not want to disturb him. Instead, he laid there in his bed, watching the man sleep.
Ambrose had saved his life. He deserved a rest.
~~~~~~~~~
By the time Ambrose finally stirred, the Medic stretching in his chair with a yawn, Cain had already started to get some feeling back in his limbs. The blond was laying there with a small smile in place, his voice rough in his throat as he drawled up to the Medic, "Don't know about you, but I feel like someone dropped a truck on me."
"Wyatt!" The man gasped, jumping up from his chair so quickly that it was knocked backwards to clatter on the floor. Ambrose bent over him, eyes full of concern and something else that made Cain feel pleasantly warm all over. His fingers tentatively probed at Cain's injuries as he quietly spoke to him. "The pain should remain pretty minor. I had them pump you full of medication for it. You're going to be bed-ridden for at least a weak, until the hurtloam finishes healing you..."
Ambrose trailed off. Cain saw his face tighten, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to water. That professional tone faded into a shaken whisper, "You almost died, Wyatt."
"I know." The blond said, swallowing thickly in the face of Ambrose's impending tears. "I'm sorry. I reacted without thinking. How's the other guy?"
"Healed and already back at work." The Medic whispered, reaching up to rub at his eyes to clear away that threatening moisture. "His master is a rather prominent business woman of one of the more influential families here at the Palace. My suite is full of gifts of gratitude, addressed to you directly. The Queen even invited me to dine with her as a result of your heroic display."
"Was it a good dinner?" Cain asked.
"I don't know -- I turned her down." Ambrose's smile was tremulous. He took a deep breath to steady himself, shaking his head. "She was pretty shocked by that, I think. But I didn't want to leave here until I knew that you were going to be all right."
Cain nodded faintly, looking down towards his hand that still wouldn't work for him. He was able to twitch his fingers, though, catching Ambrose's attention. The Medic took that signal, as he took hold of Cain's hand with his own. He laced their fingers together, with a soft smile. "You'll be just fine. I can't do anything for your obvious brain damage, but I managed to heal the rest."
"Thank you." Cain whispered, eyes fluttering closed. "Will you stay with me until I fall back asleep?"
"Of course, Wyatt."
Cain was happy to fall back to sleep with the feeling of Ambrose's hand locked securely with his.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ambrose resumed his daily duties once Cain had proven that he was going to survive just fine. The Medic would come to visit him for lunch, sneaking the blond some of his own food, whispering conspiratorally, "The food they give patients here is terrible."
Cain allowed the man to hand feed him, despite the fact that Ambrose knew very well that the blond's arms were working just fine now. The cast was an annoyance on his right side, but the left was undamaged from the hurtloam they had spread over the flesh wounds. Ambrose took delight in doing it, so Cain wasn't going to argue.
He would tell the blond all about his day, or what was news he had heard of the Resistance movements outside the Palace, or shared tidbits of gossip that was working its way through the ranks. Apparently the Queen was pregnant again. So, too, were both of her daughters. And the rumor was that it was all by the same man. Ambrose shook his head as he nibbled on some vegetables from his plate. "Probably Ahamo. The man's a sicko -- I wouldn't put it past him to boink his own daughters."
Cain chuckled at Ambrose's choice of words, nodding his agreement. "Don't find it hard to believe myself. Did you ever go have dinner with her, like she asked you to?"
"I've been putting it off." The Medic said softly. "When do you think I would have found time to do that, considering that I've been here visiting you every night?"
"Don't you think that she's going to get suspicious?" Cain asked, frowning. "If you keep turning her down to spend time with me, eventually she will figure out that something is up."
Ambrose clenched his hands around his plate. "I don't care. Going to dinner with her is just her way of having an excuse to lure me into bed with her. She's probably bothered that we haven't fucked in nearly a month."
"I guess that makes sense, then. I just don't want you to get in trouble over it or anything."
"Just leave it to me, Wyatt. I know what I'm doing." Ambrose assured him with a smile. Then a bell rang softly, the Medic clucking his tongue in disappointment. "Break is over. Time for me to get back to work. I'll leave my plate here in case you get hungry. I will see you when my shift is finished." Ambrose bent over the blond, kissing him tenderly.
He walked to the door with a smile, winking to Cain as he opened it. "Try to get some more rest. You should be ready to be released by tomorrow, if you're a good boy and don't make the Doctor angry." Ambrose chuckled at the mock glare which the blond fired at him, before stepping out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~
They released Cain from the Medical Sector the next day, once the examination indicated that his injuries were healed. The blond was allowed to get up for the first time in over a week, having to take some time to get his limbs to work properly again as Cain got used to walking. He wanted to go see Ambrose right away, asking the Medic who brought him his clothes if his leader were available for Cain to visit. The man shook his head. "Master Ambrose is in a meeting right now with Trainer Zero."
Cain found himself frowning at the news, moving hurriedly to dress himself. "Where are they meeting at?"
"In Master Ambrose's lab." The Medic informed him. "Trainer Zero gave implicit instructions that they were not to be disturbed, so we have been out tending to the research labs."
That made Cain stop with his pants halfway up his legs, looking quickly towards the Medic. "You mean to tell me that Ambrose is alone with Zero right now?"
"Yes. Their meeting just began. Master Ambrose sent me to release you right before they started, and instruct you to return immediately to his suite until he -- Mister Cain!" The Medic stammered as the blond finished tugging his pants into place, Cain securing them hurriedly before he swept past the man and out the door at a run in the direction of Ambrose's laboratory.
~~~~~~~~~~
Standing with his arms folded, Ambrose stared flatly at the man who had invited himself into his laboratory and sent his Medics scattering for the hills. He wasn't in the mood for this today. Cain was due to be released, and Ambrose wanted to be there instead of here. "Do you mind telling me what this is about, Zero? I'm in a bit of a hurry."
"That's right. Wyatt Cain is getting released today, isn't he?" Zero asked without paying the Medic much mind. He wandered around the lab at a slow stroll, reaching over to poke and prod at different things which caught his interest on the counters.
"Not that it's any business of yours, but yes, he should be getting released soon."
"It's a funny thing, with you and Cain." The Trainer remarked conversationally, Ambrose following the man around the room with his glaring eyes. "I mean.. he comes along, and suddenly you undergo this odd little transformation. Wanting to have a pet out of the blue, becoming so hard for the Queen to get a hold of. You don't even come to the Chamber any more to see the newest arrivals. You've become.. different, Ambrose."
"Again, Zero, I am trying to figure out how that is any of your business." Ambrose let some anger inch into his voice, wanting to convey to the other man that his temper was getting tested here.
"Take off your gloves."
"What?" Ambrose blinked, not sure if he had heard the man correctly.
Zero was smirking, dropping his hand from the counter as he turned to regard the Medic. "I told you to take off your gloves, Ambrose. Do I need to ask a third time? If so, I'll ask harder."
That made Ambrose instantly cautious. He stared at the Trainer, trying to figure out the man's intentions. Slowly, without taking his eyes off of Zero, Ambrose raised his hands and slowly pulled off the leather gloves, before dropping them onto the table nearby. He raised both hands, palm facing Zero, and wiggled his fingers in the air. "Satisfied?"
"Nearly." Zero nodded, his faint smile actually genuine. He sauntered away from the counter towards Ambrose, stopping in front of the Medic, eyes amused on the man's increasingly wary face. "Now I want you to touch me."
Ambrose dropped his hands to his sides, exasperated. "This is getting ridiculous, Zero, I don't--"
The Trainer grabbed hold of both the Medic's arms with a brutal grip, shaking him roughly as he forced Ambrose close, happy to see the man wince. "I won't keep repeating my orders, Ambrose. I ordered you to touch me, so fucking touch me."
He saw that the Medic was struggling to keep his cool, which was admirable. Ambrose grudgingly lifted his hands up, fingertips touching gingerly to Zero's elbows, since the Trainer's grip on his arms made any other contact difficult. Zero nodded slowly, but didn't release the Medic. Ambrose spoke quietly, his voice on the verge of starting to shake. "I did what you asked, Zero. Now let go of me. There is work that I have to do."
"Not yet." Zero shook his head. "We're not done with our talk yet. You see, there is something that I need to tell you, Ambrose. Something that you might find very interesting to hear."
"What might that be?" Ambrose asked hesitantly, turning his face to the side as Zero bent in to brush his nose against a tousled curl.
In their closeness, Zero's volume dropped, so that the words would leak more privately into Ambrose's ear. "I did some research on your pet. Turns out that Wyatt Cain is listed as a missing member of the Resistance Fighters. It doesn't surprise me, really. He strikes me as the type who would be into that, considering his little heroics at the work site. Did he tell you that he was a Fighter, Ambrose?"
"He might have mentioned it."
Zero laughed quietly, before Ambrose felt the man brushing a kiss against his throat. He jerked in the Trainer's grip, but that merely made Zero hold him tighter. The man continued, "As I was going through the listings, just on that hunch, I found out an interesting tidbit of information. Can you guess what it was? What I might have discovered?"
Ambrose silently shook his head. He had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as it twisted in knots. The Medic was smart enough to guess where Zero was going with this line of talk.
With a spreading grin, Zero's mouth danced against Ambrose's ear, as he whispered, "I saw your name on the list, Ambrose. A Resistance Spy, missing in action. That's very interesting information, don't you think?"
The Medic searched wildly around the room, trying to figure out what to say in response. His heart had begun to race, breath hitching in his chest. He licked his lips to wet them, finding that his mouth had gone completely dry, whispering breathlessly, "What do you want, Zero?"
"I haven't had much fun lately, thanks to you." The man complained at a murmur, biting at Ambrose's ear in reproach. "Honestly, I think you owe me some compensation. You can make it up to me yourself, with this delicious body." Zero forced the Medic's body tighter against him, a soft sound of pleasure rolling in his throat. "I haven't forgotten, you know. What you felt like. How well you broke for me. You were by far my favorite, before the Queen took you away."
"Will it.. will it make you 'forget' about that information?" Ambrose asked quietly, angling his eyes up reluctantly towards the man.
"It might, if you perform well." Zero said after brief consideration. "If not, then I suppose that you and Cain will be enjoying the Slave Pens together, hm? Then it shouldn't be too hard for me to convince the Queen to give him back over to my care." He leered.
Ambrose shut his eyes. He had to make himself do this. If not just for his sake, then definitely to keep Cain out of this monster's hands. Ambrose tried to fight down the nausea churning in his stomach as he nodded softly, before whispering, "What do you want me to do?"
Zero grinned in triumph. He released his hold on Ambrose's arms, in order to take hold of the Medic by his hips. The smaller man was swung up onto the same table where he had been operating on Cain just a week prior, Zero planting himself firmly between Ambrose's thighs. "Mmm.. I think taking it rough and quick first will get my appetite worked up. After that, I guess we'll see what my mood is like."
The Medic stared down at him, eyes blankly watching as Zero began to work the catches of his jacket open. Ambrose offered no resistance when the man leaned up to kiss him, feeling the calloused pads of the Trainer's fingers sliding over his chest once that jacket had been opened. Having no real enthusiasm in the act, Ambrose could only summon up a half-hearted effort to return Zero's kiss.
The Trainer whispered against his lips. "Put your arms around my neck, Ambrose."
Complying, the Medic's arms slid around it. His lips were forced apart by Zero's tongue, the man openly purring his enjoyment as if to spite Ambrose. He felt Zero already reaching to his trousers. The Trainer wasn't one to waste time on something like foreplay when there was an orgasm to be had. Ambrose wondered, vaguely, who exactly had taught the man how to have sex.
Ambrose could feel himself starting to panic as Zero began to tug at his pants, forcing the Medic to raise his hips. Could he really go through with this again? To save himself, to save Cain? Zero's hands were rough on his thighs, Ambrose's throat tightening as his panic reached a fevered pitch.
Brown eyes locked with Zero's, and something in them made the Trainer pause, looking at Ambrose uncertainly. The Medic's face smoothed carefully blank as he made a decision.
Then Ambrose shifted the fit of his arms around the Trainer's neck and began to squeeze with all the strength his adrenaline could muster.
Author: streamofwords -- OMG, streamedwords' secret smut alias
Pairing: Ambrose/Wyatt
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am merely a humble fan girl.
Rating: NC-17 -- definitely NC-17
Summary: Resistance Fighter Wyatt Cain finds himself being imprisoned by the sadistic Royal Court, facing a future of servitude. But is there an ally on his side?
Warning: Imprisonment, mind torture, violence, non-conishness, slavery, AU
Note: Hope you can follow all the stuff happening in this one -- another cliffhanger!
Ambrose was just finished up with a scheduled check-up for the Queen when the doors to his laboratory burst open. The Medics were wheeling in a pair of tables, slaves stretched out on them. Ambrose was already stepping over to the sinks, washing his hands before applying a fresh pair of gloves, calmly speaking over his shoulder. "Report?"
"Collapse at one of the work sites, Sir." A Medic informed him in clipped tones. "The one with the broken leg was under the structure when it fell. He was pushed out of the way by another slave, who took the brunt of the impact."
"Damage report?" Ambrose asked as he watched his staff beginning to move their monitoring devices over to the tables, getting ready to deal with the situation. He held a hand out blindly for them to put the charts of the slaves into it, to see if there were any possible allergic reactions that he should know about before he administered any drugs.
"Broken arm and leg. Probably some internal bleeding. He was unconscious when they hauled him from the rubble, so we suspect that there may be a concussion, or some swelling. His pulse is steady, but declining."
Ambrose shook his head, frowning as he flipped over the two charts. "Trying to be a hero, and look where it gets him. Idiot."
He paused, looking down at the second chart in his hand. Reading the name in disbelief. It seemed surreal. Ambrose dropped the charts, turning sharply towards the table behind him, a few steps rushing him to its side as he gasped out, "Wyatt!"
~~~~~~~~
Zero lingered outside of the doors of Ambrose's laboratory, watching the man operate with curiosity. He had heard a report that Wyatt Cain had gotten hurt trying to play hero for some slave down at a work site. The man had come to see for himself if it were true. All of the medics inside were so distracted by their work that they did not even notice him stepping in to watch the proceedings with interest.
He saw Ambrose hovering over Cain's table, the blond looking on the verge of death from his injuries. Cain's body was a bloody mess, as if Zero had treated him to ten beatings in a row. The Trainer leaned back against the wall by one of the sinks, arms folding across his chest as he smirked to himself. It looked pretty dire for the blond.
Zero's attention then shifted to Ambrose, and he became fixated on watching the Medic. Ambrose was snapping out commands and instructions to those in the room, his dark eyes on fire in a way Zero had never seen before. The normally composed Medic was on the verge of panic, though his sense of professionalism did not allow him to give into it. He was operating on Cain, where it appeared that the blond had some internal damage, his white gloves and the sleeves of his coat coated red with blood. Between commands, the Medic was whispering down to the unconscious blond. "Wyatt, stay with me. Just a little longer. Hold on."
They had given Cain some kind of shot, which seemed to steady the man's heart rate, if the monitors were any indication. A few Medics were tending to the more minor injuries, including where Cain's leg was at an awkward angle from the knee down, and his arm from its shoulder. They were getting them set while Ambrose worked, beginning to bind them with self-adhesive bandages. Zero saw them smear something onto the bandages that immediately began to harden into casts.
Ambrose hissed angrily when some of the Medics got too close to where he was working, or asked him questions. He snapped at them, sharply, "If you aren't assisting me directly, then kindly get the hell away!"
His frustration was apparent. Zero was impressed that the Medic could work up that kind of emotional energy. The Trainer watched as the other white-suited figures scattered, a few of them moving to assist those who had already about finished up with the other slave. Ambrose blinked hurriedly, concentrated where he worked, before the Medic cursed softly.
Zero saw him yank off those leather gloves. Saw him wash his hands. Saw him use his bare hands in order to grab those tools again, as he worked on Cain without the slick gloves slipping where they gripped the utensils. Ambrose's pale skin became smeared crimson as he worked, Zero appraising him intently. The Trainer pushed himself away from the wall, moving to slip back out through the doors, thoughtful.
~~~~~~~~~
When Cain woke up, he was surprised that there wasn't as much pain as he expected. The last thing that he remembered was when the structure was falling on him, and an intense wave of pain that swept him away into blackness. He knew that he had almost woken up at some point, that he'd realized that Ambrose was there calling his name. But Cain really couldn't be sure.
Opening up his eyes, the blond realized that he was inside of one of the recovery rooms in the Medical Sector. So he wasn't dead. Cain found that it was impossible for him to move at all, his limbs numb. He panicked for the first couple of seconds, wondering if he had been paralyzed. Yet his eyes were able to spot the IV line that was feeding down into his body at some point, and recognized the label from his time in Ambrose's lab. It was a sedative to keep the patient from moving around after a major surgery. Cain ceased his struggles, relaxing back into the softness of the bed.
His eyes shifted to the side, past the edge of his bed. Ambrose was slumped in a chair nearby, the Medic still dressed in a coat with bloody sleeves, his hands bare where they rested limply in his lap. He looked as if he had not slept much, considering the dark circles underneath his eyes. Cain did not want to disturb him. Instead, he laid there in his bed, watching the man sleep.
Ambrose had saved his life. He deserved a rest.
~~~~~~~~~
By the time Ambrose finally stirred, the Medic stretching in his chair with a yawn, Cain had already started to get some feeling back in his limbs. The blond was laying there with a small smile in place, his voice rough in his throat as he drawled up to the Medic, "Don't know about you, but I feel like someone dropped a truck on me."
"Wyatt!" The man gasped, jumping up from his chair so quickly that it was knocked backwards to clatter on the floor. Ambrose bent over him, eyes full of concern and something else that made Cain feel pleasantly warm all over. His fingers tentatively probed at Cain's injuries as he quietly spoke to him. "The pain should remain pretty minor. I had them pump you full of medication for it. You're going to be bed-ridden for at least a weak, until the hurtloam finishes healing you..."
Ambrose trailed off. Cain saw his face tighten, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to water. That professional tone faded into a shaken whisper, "You almost died, Wyatt."
"I know." The blond said, swallowing thickly in the face of Ambrose's impending tears. "I'm sorry. I reacted without thinking. How's the other guy?"
"Healed and already back at work." The Medic whispered, reaching up to rub at his eyes to clear away that threatening moisture. "His master is a rather prominent business woman of one of the more influential families here at the Palace. My suite is full of gifts of gratitude, addressed to you directly. The Queen even invited me to dine with her as a result of your heroic display."
"Was it a good dinner?" Cain asked.
"I don't know -- I turned her down." Ambrose's smile was tremulous. He took a deep breath to steady himself, shaking his head. "She was pretty shocked by that, I think. But I didn't want to leave here until I knew that you were going to be all right."
Cain nodded faintly, looking down towards his hand that still wouldn't work for him. He was able to twitch his fingers, though, catching Ambrose's attention. The Medic took that signal, as he took hold of Cain's hand with his own. He laced their fingers together, with a soft smile. "You'll be just fine. I can't do anything for your obvious brain damage, but I managed to heal the rest."
"Thank you." Cain whispered, eyes fluttering closed. "Will you stay with me until I fall back asleep?"
"Of course, Wyatt."
Cain was happy to fall back to sleep with the feeling of Ambrose's hand locked securely with his.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ambrose resumed his daily duties once Cain had proven that he was going to survive just fine. The Medic would come to visit him for lunch, sneaking the blond some of his own food, whispering conspiratorally, "The food they give patients here is terrible."
Cain allowed the man to hand feed him, despite the fact that Ambrose knew very well that the blond's arms were working just fine now. The cast was an annoyance on his right side, but the left was undamaged from the hurtloam they had spread over the flesh wounds. Ambrose took delight in doing it, so Cain wasn't going to argue.
He would tell the blond all about his day, or what was news he had heard of the Resistance movements outside the Palace, or shared tidbits of gossip that was working its way through the ranks. Apparently the Queen was pregnant again. So, too, were both of her daughters. And the rumor was that it was all by the same man. Ambrose shook his head as he nibbled on some vegetables from his plate. "Probably Ahamo. The man's a sicko -- I wouldn't put it past him to boink his own daughters."
Cain chuckled at Ambrose's choice of words, nodding his agreement. "Don't find it hard to believe myself. Did you ever go have dinner with her, like she asked you to?"
"I've been putting it off." The Medic said softly. "When do you think I would have found time to do that, considering that I've been here visiting you every night?"
"Don't you think that she's going to get suspicious?" Cain asked, frowning. "If you keep turning her down to spend time with me, eventually she will figure out that something is up."
Ambrose clenched his hands around his plate. "I don't care. Going to dinner with her is just her way of having an excuse to lure me into bed with her. She's probably bothered that we haven't fucked in nearly a month."
"I guess that makes sense, then. I just don't want you to get in trouble over it or anything."
"Just leave it to me, Wyatt. I know what I'm doing." Ambrose assured him with a smile. Then a bell rang softly, the Medic clucking his tongue in disappointment. "Break is over. Time for me to get back to work. I'll leave my plate here in case you get hungry. I will see you when my shift is finished." Ambrose bent over the blond, kissing him tenderly.
He walked to the door with a smile, winking to Cain as he opened it. "Try to get some more rest. You should be ready to be released by tomorrow, if you're a good boy and don't make the Doctor angry." Ambrose chuckled at the mock glare which the blond fired at him, before stepping out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~
They released Cain from the Medical Sector the next day, once the examination indicated that his injuries were healed. The blond was allowed to get up for the first time in over a week, having to take some time to get his limbs to work properly again as Cain got used to walking. He wanted to go see Ambrose right away, asking the Medic who brought him his clothes if his leader were available for Cain to visit. The man shook his head. "Master Ambrose is in a meeting right now with Trainer Zero."
Cain found himself frowning at the news, moving hurriedly to dress himself. "Where are they meeting at?"
"In Master Ambrose's lab." The Medic informed him. "Trainer Zero gave implicit instructions that they were not to be disturbed, so we have been out tending to the research labs."
That made Cain stop with his pants halfway up his legs, looking quickly towards the Medic. "You mean to tell me that Ambrose is alone with Zero right now?"
"Yes. Their meeting just began. Master Ambrose sent me to release you right before they started, and instruct you to return immediately to his suite until he -- Mister Cain!" The Medic stammered as the blond finished tugging his pants into place, Cain securing them hurriedly before he swept past the man and out the door at a run in the direction of Ambrose's laboratory.
~~~~~~~~~~
Standing with his arms folded, Ambrose stared flatly at the man who had invited himself into his laboratory and sent his Medics scattering for the hills. He wasn't in the mood for this today. Cain was due to be released, and Ambrose wanted to be there instead of here. "Do you mind telling me what this is about, Zero? I'm in a bit of a hurry."
"That's right. Wyatt Cain is getting released today, isn't he?" Zero asked without paying the Medic much mind. He wandered around the lab at a slow stroll, reaching over to poke and prod at different things which caught his interest on the counters.
"Not that it's any business of yours, but yes, he should be getting released soon."
"It's a funny thing, with you and Cain." The Trainer remarked conversationally, Ambrose following the man around the room with his glaring eyes. "I mean.. he comes along, and suddenly you undergo this odd little transformation. Wanting to have a pet out of the blue, becoming so hard for the Queen to get a hold of. You don't even come to the Chamber any more to see the newest arrivals. You've become.. different, Ambrose."
"Again, Zero, I am trying to figure out how that is any of your business." Ambrose let some anger inch into his voice, wanting to convey to the other man that his temper was getting tested here.
"Take off your gloves."
"What?" Ambrose blinked, not sure if he had heard the man correctly.
Zero was smirking, dropping his hand from the counter as he turned to regard the Medic. "I told you to take off your gloves, Ambrose. Do I need to ask a third time? If so, I'll ask harder."
That made Ambrose instantly cautious. He stared at the Trainer, trying to figure out the man's intentions. Slowly, without taking his eyes off of Zero, Ambrose raised his hands and slowly pulled off the leather gloves, before dropping them onto the table nearby. He raised both hands, palm facing Zero, and wiggled his fingers in the air. "Satisfied?"
"Nearly." Zero nodded, his faint smile actually genuine. He sauntered away from the counter towards Ambrose, stopping in front of the Medic, eyes amused on the man's increasingly wary face. "Now I want you to touch me."
Ambrose dropped his hands to his sides, exasperated. "This is getting ridiculous, Zero, I don't--"
The Trainer grabbed hold of both the Medic's arms with a brutal grip, shaking him roughly as he forced Ambrose close, happy to see the man wince. "I won't keep repeating my orders, Ambrose. I ordered you to touch me, so fucking touch me."
He saw that the Medic was struggling to keep his cool, which was admirable. Ambrose grudgingly lifted his hands up, fingertips touching gingerly to Zero's elbows, since the Trainer's grip on his arms made any other contact difficult. Zero nodded slowly, but didn't release the Medic. Ambrose spoke quietly, his voice on the verge of starting to shake. "I did what you asked, Zero. Now let go of me. There is work that I have to do."
"Not yet." Zero shook his head. "We're not done with our talk yet. You see, there is something that I need to tell you, Ambrose. Something that you might find very interesting to hear."
"What might that be?" Ambrose asked hesitantly, turning his face to the side as Zero bent in to brush his nose against a tousled curl.
In their closeness, Zero's volume dropped, so that the words would leak more privately into Ambrose's ear. "I did some research on your pet. Turns out that Wyatt Cain is listed as a missing member of the Resistance Fighters. It doesn't surprise me, really. He strikes me as the type who would be into that, considering his little heroics at the work site. Did he tell you that he was a Fighter, Ambrose?"
"He might have mentioned it."
Zero laughed quietly, before Ambrose felt the man brushing a kiss against his throat. He jerked in the Trainer's grip, but that merely made Zero hold him tighter. The man continued, "As I was going through the listings, just on that hunch, I found out an interesting tidbit of information. Can you guess what it was? What I might have discovered?"
Ambrose silently shook his head. He had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as it twisted in knots. The Medic was smart enough to guess where Zero was going with this line of talk.
With a spreading grin, Zero's mouth danced against Ambrose's ear, as he whispered, "I saw your name on the list, Ambrose. A Resistance Spy, missing in action. That's very interesting information, don't you think?"
The Medic searched wildly around the room, trying to figure out what to say in response. His heart had begun to race, breath hitching in his chest. He licked his lips to wet them, finding that his mouth had gone completely dry, whispering breathlessly, "What do you want, Zero?"
"I haven't had much fun lately, thanks to you." The man complained at a murmur, biting at Ambrose's ear in reproach. "Honestly, I think you owe me some compensation. You can make it up to me yourself, with this delicious body." Zero forced the Medic's body tighter against him, a soft sound of pleasure rolling in his throat. "I haven't forgotten, you know. What you felt like. How well you broke for me. You were by far my favorite, before the Queen took you away."
"Will it.. will it make you 'forget' about that information?" Ambrose asked quietly, angling his eyes up reluctantly towards the man.
"It might, if you perform well." Zero said after brief consideration. "If not, then I suppose that you and Cain will be enjoying the Slave Pens together, hm? Then it shouldn't be too hard for me to convince the Queen to give him back over to my care." He leered.
Ambrose shut his eyes. He had to make himself do this. If not just for his sake, then definitely to keep Cain out of this monster's hands. Ambrose tried to fight down the nausea churning in his stomach as he nodded softly, before whispering, "What do you want me to do?"
Zero grinned in triumph. He released his hold on Ambrose's arms, in order to take hold of the Medic by his hips. The smaller man was swung up onto the same table where he had been operating on Cain just a week prior, Zero planting himself firmly between Ambrose's thighs. "Mmm.. I think taking it rough and quick first will get my appetite worked up. After that, I guess we'll see what my mood is like."
The Medic stared down at him, eyes blankly watching as Zero began to work the catches of his jacket open. Ambrose offered no resistance when the man leaned up to kiss him, feeling the calloused pads of the Trainer's fingers sliding over his chest once that jacket had been opened. Having no real enthusiasm in the act, Ambrose could only summon up a half-hearted effort to return Zero's kiss.
The Trainer whispered against his lips. "Put your arms around my neck, Ambrose."
Complying, the Medic's arms slid around it. His lips were forced apart by Zero's tongue, the man openly purring his enjoyment as if to spite Ambrose. He felt Zero already reaching to his trousers. The Trainer wasn't one to waste time on something like foreplay when there was an orgasm to be had. Ambrose wondered, vaguely, who exactly had taught the man how to have sex.
Ambrose could feel himself starting to panic as Zero began to tug at his pants, forcing the Medic to raise his hips. Could he really go through with this again? To save himself, to save Cain? Zero's hands were rough on his thighs, Ambrose's throat tightening as his panic reached a fevered pitch.
Brown eyes locked with Zero's, and something in them made the Trainer pause, looking at Ambrose uncertainly. The Medic's face smoothed carefully blank as he made a decision.
Then Ambrose shifted the fit of his arms around the Trainer's neck and began to squeeze with all the strength his adrenaline could muster.