White Collar: The Labyrinth ch 16
NOTE: This is the late chapter that will be posted on LJ. Over the last seven chapters or so this story hasn't done very well on this site and this site is not very 'user friendly' for uploading longer stories. Thank you to pipilj for being such a loyal reader, hugs, I will see you over on one of the other sites thanks for understanding! The story will continue on FFnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12086861/1/White-Collar-The-Labyrinth and AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7685479/chapters/17506906
Chapter Sixteen
"Last night's round was certainly a crowd pleaser." York praised. "How's Burke this morning?"
"Fairly concussed, but he'll live…for now."
"He fought hard, I actually found myself a little disappointed that he lost in the end."
"Burke really should have won, he and Tanner were fairly equally matched size and fitness wise but Burke clearly had more skill and drive. It was just that luckily shot near the end that gave Tanner the upper hand."
"The match up itself wasn't as impressive as Burke's willingness to go on the offensive instead of sticking to the reluctant defensive the way he did with Campbell. How did you get him to fight like that?"
"I have my ways." Jake replied vaguely.
"Does your technique have something to do with the fact that Caffrey didn't fight last night, and only spent seven minutes in the ring the first time?"
"I may have gone a little far with Caffrey before the fight on both occasions to motivate Burke." Jake admitted with a guilty smile. "I figured most of this crowd would be more interested in a good round out of the Fed than his rat anyway."
"I assume you made some sort of deal with Burke to keep Caffrey out of the ring, but I'm a little surprised that you backed down and still pulled Caffrey out of the fight after Burke lost. That's not like you."
"I didn't tell Burke he had to win," Jake explained "I told him he had to put on a good show."
"He certainly did that."
"He knew the stakes. Caffrey could barely walk let alone fight after I was through with him."
"You are one sadistic son of bitch." York chuckled. "Of course that's what I love about you, and why you've lasted as long as you have. However I can't have you shielding Caffrey from the ring forever even if you are using him as your bait/personal play thing."
"I won't." Jake promised. "He just needs more time to toughen up a bit."
"I have no doubt of that." York agreed. "However, I want him in the next match, and I want him to win. No one will bet on him after seeing his last performance, it will be easy money. Put him up against someone half dead if you have to, but make it look good."
"Don't worry, Burke and I will teach him to fight and once we do…"
"'We'?" York questioned mockingly with a raised eyebrow. "Jake, you're not trying to make friends are you?"
"Why don't you ask Caffrey if he thinks I'm trying to make friends with him? I bet he'd spit in your face until he dehydrated and died."
"I'm not saying you're any good at it, I know how your temper keeps you from playing well with others. I'm just saying you seem more invested than usual."
"I'm just following your instruction." Jake said defensively. "You said you wanted fights people would pay money to see and if at all possible for these two to live at least a few weeks if not months. If Caffrey dies Burke won't be far behind and vice versa. Any idiot can force two men into a ring to fight or lock someone in a room to starve, you keep me around to make sure your victims truly suffer and I always deliver."
"I do keep you around, don't I?" York mused. "You have proven yourself remarkably loyal, Jake, not to mention talented."
"Thank you, Sir."
Jake didn't often hear praise from York and getting it now helped him gather up some courage to enter into a conversation that had never gone well for him in the past but that he had to risk bringing up again. Before speaking Jake glanced over his shoulder at the two muscular guards York had brought along with him that were standing by the closed door. He wished that they would at least stand outside, but York never met with him without an audience. Deciding to ignore them Jake turned his attention back to York with his heart suddenly racing. Dressed in a bespoke suit York was casually perched on the edge of the same table that Jake had pinned Neal to with one foot up on the wooden chair. With their brief meeting over York put his foot down and leaned forward slightly to stand. Knowing he was about to lose his chance Jake broke the short silence that had fallen over the room.
"Mr. York, I…" Jake hesitated. "I was wondering if…"
"Jake," York growled darkly "you already know my answer."
"I know, but…"
"I see you've been having trouble with Sawyer lately." York interrupted in a dangerous tone. "Can't seem to keep that boy out of the Labyrinth."
"He has a personal grudge against Burke." Jake said trying to figure out how to best steer the conversation back to his request. "Don't worry, I'm dealing with him."
"Are you really?" York asked doubtfully. "If you were doing your job right he wouldn't want anything to do with the Labyrinth let alone *volunteer* to stay down here."
"I don't have the same kind of power over him as I do with the branded."
"From what I've heard you barely have any power over Sawyer at all. Your leash on him is thread thin."
"I keep him in check."
"You might want to work a little harder on that. Sawyer has been asking about your job and I've been listening."
"Wha…what?" Jake asked shocked. "But he's not…qualified."
"That could change soon, he's almost as crazy as you are. You might just have some healthy competition there."
"No!"
Jake regretted barking at York the second he had done it, but it was too late. York narrowed his eyes at Jake and that was all the signal York's guards needed to attack. Jake cried out like a kicked dog as one of the men struck the back of his thigh with his metal baton that they had taken away from him before the meeting. Dropping to one knee he arched back as the other man pressed the taser that they had also taken between his shoulder blades. Unlike Neal Jake didn't even try to keep quiet as pain lanced through his back knowing that York wanted to hear him scream. He couldn't win against the two armed men, he could only buy himself clemency through York. Doing his best to protect himself without actually fighting back York curled up on the floor and hid his head in his arms. He continued to yelp as he received multiple painful blows to the back and shins as the guards kicked at him. Jake was starting to sustain some real injury when York finally stepped forward.
"I think that's enough." York announced calmly.
The guards listened to their boss and took a step back from Jake, although they kept close in case Jake decided to attack. Acting more wounded than he was Jake desperately scrambled away from the men and pressed himself into the corner to not only offer himself some protection in case they started beating him again, but also to demonstrate to York that he was sorry. Playing his part to the fullest Jake faked a fearful trembling to add to the effect. Buttoning his sports jacket closed York walked up to Jake and looked down on him with a hint of pity.
"I've grown fond of you, Jake." York said honestly. "But that doesn't change the simple fact that you are replaceable, particularly if you start thinking you can talk back to me. Understood?"
Cowering submissively in the corner Jake nodded.
"Good. Now then, if you'll excuse me," York said in a cheerful tone "I have to go talk with the widow Burke."
Jake furrowed his brow at the idea of York visiting the Agent's wife not understanding why he would take such a risk or what he could possibly gain from it. Not about to question York's motives right now Jake just stayed in the corner keeping his eyes downcast to avoid accidentally looking up at York with anything that might be mistaken for disrespect. Satisfied that Jake had been firmly reminded of his place York turned towards the door.
The guard with his taser simply tossed it on the floor to allow him to quickly get to the door and open it for York. Jake flinched as the other guard stepped up and spat at him before dropping the metal baton and leaving with York. Breathing heavily after the close call Jake closed his eyes and pressed himself a little harder into the concrete corner to try and stop the shaking that he had original told himself he was faking.
Humiliated by the beating Jake's pride was far more damaged than his body. Getting to his feet he ground his teeth in frustration and rage as he thought more about the insulting encounter. When his blood continued to heat to the point of boil he gathered up his weapons and stalked out of the room. Snarling profanities at York he made his way purposefully down the hall towards a locked door. It took him a few tries to get the key in the lock with his hands still quaking but now out of anger rather than fear.
Throwing the door open Jake stepped inside and locked it behind himself. The inhabitant of the room was a painfully thin heavily abused man a few years younger than Neal who had curled himself up in the far corner just as Jake had been when he'd heard the key grinding against the lock. His filthy white t-shirt and stained khaki pants hung loose against his diminished frame. His pale skin, along with his sandy blonde hair and nearly colorless hollow blue eyes gave him the sickly look of a plant that had been kept out of the sun for too long.
"Get up, Miller!" Jake demanded.
"Jake, wait…"
"Get your ass over here and fight me!" Jake barked.
"What? No, plea…"
Baring his teeth at Miller Jake rushed over to the terrified captive. Miller had survived his fair share of turns in the ring but lately had reached a point where he was losing so often that he was barely worth bothering with. Jake reached down and grabbed Miller's wrist causing him to cry out as Jake ground the delicate bones together. Jake hauled Miller to his feet and dragged him out into the middle of the room before punching him in the face hard enough to send him crashing to the floor. Disoriented on his back Miller reached up and tried pointlessly to stanch the blood that poured from his now broken nose. Jake had been looking for a fight to work out some of his aggression but Miller wasn't in any condition to offer one. Although he didn't get the resistance he was hoping for he was feeling better now that he was back in control. Enjoying the power Jake straddled Miller and sat down heavily on his stomach.
"Please, Jake, stop!"
Miller thrashed with a surprising amount of strength and he tried to push Jake off knowing his life was on the line. Striking Miller in the face again with a significant amount of rage and force Jake soaked his fist in blood that sprayed across his face. Dazed Miller stopped struggling as he sputtered up blood between gasps for breath as he started to drown. Grabbing the collar of Miller's shirt Jake tore it open to reveal a deep purple scar of a healed but still relatively fresh maze shaped brand.
"What does this mean?" Jake spat.
"Jake, pl..please, I…" Miller whimpered weakly as he started to fade.
"What does it mean?!" Jake demanded again as he dug his fingers into the flesh around the mark. "What did York tell you when you crossed him enough to force him into branding this on you?!"
Unable to speak Miller convulsed as his eyes rolled back.
"No forgiveness!" Jake answered for him. "No forgiveness, no escape, no mercy, no exceptions!"
Jake punctuated each of the caveats with a powerful blow to Miller's face. Already on the edge Miller had lost consciousness after the first strike, and by the time Jake had landed the fourth one Miller's chest sank under Jake's weight as death freed him. Jake stared down at his victim at first with the rush of murder washing away the pain of his previous humiliation, but then just as quickly as he'd found relief a new weight crushed down on him with the horror of having taken another life.
Getting shakily to his feet Jake stared at Miller's motionless corpse as he backed up until he bumped into the locked door. Sliding down the door until he was sitting down Jake pulled his knees up to his chest. He held up his hands and looked at the blood on them with a nauseated expression as if it was the first time he'd ever seen gore. Looking around the gray concrete walls that surrounded him Jake suddenly broke down into tears. Crossing his blood stained arms on his knees Jake buried his face in them to hide his bitter weeping.
By the time Jake pulled himself together Miller had grown cold in the puddle of thick congealing blood. Jake slowly got his feet and looked down at Miller with no trace of his previous remorse. He had rationalized that it had been York who had condemned Miller to death down here, and that he was no more guilty of the murder than a gun was. Finding himself somewhat at peace again, or as close as he ever came to it, he reached up to dry his tear reddened eyes with his hand only to smear blood across his face.
Jake sighed in annoyance before he stepped around Miller's body and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off his shirt Jake revealed several long diagonal scars that marred his back along with a mix of other battle born marks. Removing the rest of his clothes he dropped them on the floor of Miller's bathroom. Turning the shower on Jake closed his eyes and stepped under the spray to wash the blood and the stress of the day away. Tilting his head back Jake let the water strike his face and throat. The water ran down onto his chest and over the hexagon maze scar emblazoned on over his heart, faded to white by time but just as damning as the day it had been seared into his flesh.
Chapter Sixteen
"Last night's round was certainly a crowd pleaser." York praised. "How's Burke this morning?"
"Fairly concussed, but he'll live…for now."
"He fought hard, I actually found myself a little disappointed that he lost in the end."
"Burke really should have won, he and Tanner were fairly equally matched size and fitness wise but Burke clearly had more skill and drive. It was just that luckily shot near the end that gave Tanner the upper hand."
"The match up itself wasn't as impressive as Burke's willingness to go on the offensive instead of sticking to the reluctant defensive the way he did with Campbell. How did you get him to fight like that?"
"I have my ways." Jake replied vaguely.
"Does your technique have something to do with the fact that Caffrey didn't fight last night, and only spent seven minutes in the ring the first time?"
"I may have gone a little far with Caffrey before the fight on both occasions to motivate Burke." Jake admitted with a guilty smile. "I figured most of this crowd would be more interested in a good round out of the Fed than his rat anyway."
"I assume you made some sort of deal with Burke to keep Caffrey out of the ring, but I'm a little surprised that you backed down and still pulled Caffrey out of the fight after Burke lost. That's not like you."
"I didn't tell Burke he had to win," Jake explained "I told him he had to put on a good show."
"He certainly did that."
"He knew the stakes. Caffrey could barely walk let alone fight after I was through with him."
"You are one sadistic son of bitch." York chuckled. "Of course that's what I love about you, and why you've lasted as long as you have. However I can't have you shielding Caffrey from the ring forever even if you are using him as your bait/personal play thing."
"I won't." Jake promised. "He just needs more time to toughen up a bit."
"I have no doubt of that." York agreed. "However, I want him in the next match, and I want him to win. No one will bet on him after seeing his last performance, it will be easy money. Put him up against someone half dead if you have to, but make it look good."
"Don't worry, Burke and I will teach him to fight and once we do…"
"'We'?" York questioned mockingly with a raised eyebrow. "Jake, you're not trying to make friends are you?"
"Why don't you ask Caffrey if he thinks I'm trying to make friends with him? I bet he'd spit in your face until he dehydrated and died."
"I'm not saying you're any good at it, I know how your temper keeps you from playing well with others. I'm just saying you seem more invested than usual."
"I'm just following your instruction." Jake said defensively. "You said you wanted fights people would pay money to see and if at all possible for these two to live at least a few weeks if not months. If Caffrey dies Burke won't be far behind and vice versa. Any idiot can force two men into a ring to fight or lock someone in a room to starve, you keep me around to make sure your victims truly suffer and I always deliver."
"I do keep you around, don't I?" York mused. "You have proven yourself remarkably loyal, Jake, not to mention talented."
"Thank you, Sir."
Jake didn't often hear praise from York and getting it now helped him gather up some courage to enter into a conversation that had never gone well for him in the past but that he had to risk bringing up again. Before speaking Jake glanced over his shoulder at the two muscular guards York had brought along with him that were standing by the closed door. He wished that they would at least stand outside, but York never met with him without an audience. Deciding to ignore them Jake turned his attention back to York with his heart suddenly racing. Dressed in a bespoke suit York was casually perched on the edge of the same table that Jake had pinned Neal to with one foot up on the wooden chair. With their brief meeting over York put his foot down and leaned forward slightly to stand. Knowing he was about to lose his chance Jake broke the short silence that had fallen over the room.
"Mr. York, I…" Jake hesitated. "I was wondering if…"
"Jake," York growled darkly "you already know my answer."
"I know, but…"
"I see you've been having trouble with Sawyer lately." York interrupted in a dangerous tone. "Can't seem to keep that boy out of the Labyrinth."
"He has a personal grudge against Burke." Jake said trying to figure out how to best steer the conversation back to his request. "Don't worry, I'm dealing with him."
"Are you really?" York asked doubtfully. "If you were doing your job right he wouldn't want anything to do with the Labyrinth let alone *volunteer* to stay down here."
"I don't have the same kind of power over him as I do with the branded."
"From what I've heard you barely have any power over Sawyer at all. Your leash on him is thread thin."
"I keep him in check."
"You might want to work a little harder on that. Sawyer has been asking about your job and I've been listening."
"Wha…what?" Jake asked shocked. "But he's not…qualified."
"That could change soon, he's almost as crazy as you are. You might just have some healthy competition there."
"No!"
Jake regretted barking at York the second he had done it, but it was too late. York narrowed his eyes at Jake and that was all the signal York's guards needed to attack. Jake cried out like a kicked dog as one of the men struck the back of his thigh with his metal baton that they had taken away from him before the meeting. Dropping to one knee he arched back as the other man pressed the taser that they had also taken between his shoulder blades. Unlike Neal Jake didn't even try to keep quiet as pain lanced through his back knowing that York wanted to hear him scream. He couldn't win against the two armed men, he could only buy himself clemency through York. Doing his best to protect himself without actually fighting back York curled up on the floor and hid his head in his arms. He continued to yelp as he received multiple painful blows to the back and shins as the guards kicked at him. Jake was starting to sustain some real injury when York finally stepped forward.
"I think that's enough." York announced calmly.
The guards listened to their boss and took a step back from Jake, although they kept close in case Jake decided to attack. Acting more wounded than he was Jake desperately scrambled away from the men and pressed himself into the corner to not only offer himself some protection in case they started beating him again, but also to demonstrate to York that he was sorry. Playing his part to the fullest Jake faked a fearful trembling to add to the effect. Buttoning his sports jacket closed York walked up to Jake and looked down on him with a hint of pity.
"I've grown fond of you, Jake." York said honestly. "But that doesn't change the simple fact that you are replaceable, particularly if you start thinking you can talk back to me. Understood?"
Cowering submissively in the corner Jake nodded.
"Good. Now then, if you'll excuse me," York said in a cheerful tone "I have to go talk with the widow Burke."
Jake furrowed his brow at the idea of York visiting the Agent's wife not understanding why he would take such a risk or what he could possibly gain from it. Not about to question York's motives right now Jake just stayed in the corner keeping his eyes downcast to avoid accidentally looking up at York with anything that might be mistaken for disrespect. Satisfied that Jake had been firmly reminded of his place York turned towards the door.
The guard with his taser simply tossed it on the floor to allow him to quickly get to the door and open it for York. Jake flinched as the other guard stepped up and spat at him before dropping the metal baton and leaving with York. Breathing heavily after the close call Jake closed his eyes and pressed himself a little harder into the concrete corner to try and stop the shaking that he had original told himself he was faking.
Humiliated by the beating Jake's pride was far more damaged than his body. Getting to his feet he ground his teeth in frustration and rage as he thought more about the insulting encounter. When his blood continued to heat to the point of boil he gathered up his weapons and stalked out of the room. Snarling profanities at York he made his way purposefully down the hall towards a locked door. It took him a few tries to get the key in the lock with his hands still quaking but now out of anger rather than fear.
Throwing the door open Jake stepped inside and locked it behind himself. The inhabitant of the room was a painfully thin heavily abused man a few years younger than Neal who had curled himself up in the far corner just as Jake had been when he'd heard the key grinding against the lock. His filthy white t-shirt and stained khaki pants hung loose against his diminished frame. His pale skin, along with his sandy blonde hair and nearly colorless hollow blue eyes gave him the sickly look of a plant that had been kept out of the sun for too long.
"Get up, Miller!" Jake demanded.
"Jake, wait…"
"Get your ass over here and fight me!" Jake barked.
"What? No, plea…"
Baring his teeth at Miller Jake rushed over to the terrified captive. Miller had survived his fair share of turns in the ring but lately had reached a point where he was losing so often that he was barely worth bothering with. Jake reached down and grabbed Miller's wrist causing him to cry out as Jake ground the delicate bones together. Jake hauled Miller to his feet and dragged him out into the middle of the room before punching him in the face hard enough to send him crashing to the floor. Disoriented on his back Miller reached up and tried pointlessly to stanch the blood that poured from his now broken nose. Jake had been looking for a fight to work out some of his aggression but Miller wasn't in any condition to offer one. Although he didn't get the resistance he was hoping for he was feeling better now that he was back in control. Enjoying the power Jake straddled Miller and sat down heavily on his stomach.
"Please, Jake, stop!"
Miller thrashed with a surprising amount of strength and he tried to push Jake off knowing his life was on the line. Striking Miller in the face again with a significant amount of rage and force Jake soaked his fist in blood that sprayed across his face. Dazed Miller stopped struggling as he sputtered up blood between gasps for breath as he started to drown. Grabbing the collar of Miller's shirt Jake tore it open to reveal a deep purple scar of a healed but still relatively fresh maze shaped brand.
"What does this mean?" Jake spat.
"Jake, pl..please, I…" Miller whimpered weakly as he started to fade.
"What does it mean?!" Jake demanded again as he dug his fingers into the flesh around the mark. "What did York tell you when you crossed him enough to force him into branding this on you?!"
Unable to speak Miller convulsed as his eyes rolled back.
"No forgiveness!" Jake answered for him. "No forgiveness, no escape, no mercy, no exceptions!"
Jake punctuated each of the caveats with a powerful blow to Miller's face. Already on the edge Miller had lost consciousness after the first strike, and by the time Jake had landed the fourth one Miller's chest sank under Jake's weight as death freed him. Jake stared down at his victim at first with the rush of murder washing away the pain of his previous humiliation, but then just as quickly as he'd found relief a new weight crushed down on him with the horror of having taken another life.
Getting shakily to his feet Jake stared at Miller's motionless corpse as he backed up until he bumped into the locked door. Sliding down the door until he was sitting down Jake pulled his knees up to his chest. He held up his hands and looked at the blood on them with a nauseated expression as if it was the first time he'd ever seen gore. Looking around the gray concrete walls that surrounded him Jake suddenly broke down into tears. Crossing his blood stained arms on his knees Jake buried his face in them to hide his bitter weeping.
By the time Jake pulled himself together Miller had grown cold in the puddle of thick congealing blood. Jake slowly got his feet and looked down at Miller with no trace of his previous remorse. He had rationalized that it had been York who had condemned Miller to death down here, and that he was no more guilty of the murder than a gun was. Finding himself somewhat at peace again, or as close as he ever came to it, he reached up to dry his tear reddened eyes with his hand only to smear blood across his face.
Jake sighed in annoyance before he stepped around Miller's body and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off his shirt Jake revealed several long diagonal scars that marred his back along with a mix of other battle born marks. Removing the rest of his clothes he dropped them on the floor of Miller's bathroom. Turning the shower on Jake closed his eyes and stepped under the spray to wash the blood and the stress of the day away. Tilting his head back Jake let the water strike his face and throat. The water ran down onto his chest and over the hexagon maze scar emblazoned on over his heart, faded to white by time but just as damning as the day it had been seared into his flesh.