Shot in the Dark Chapter 8
Title: Shot in the Dark chp. 8
Author: verdrehtgeist
Rating: M
Pairing: Raylan/Tim (semi-established)
Notes: Raylan always knew that there were some sick people in his home town. Rapists, dealers, growers, psychopaths...you name it, Harlan probably had it in kind. But with Tim missing, it seems like a bad time to find out that it gets worse than even Raylan could imagine.
Warnings: torture, dark themes
Tim’s lungs burned, but everything else on him was freezing. It was nearing the end of the fall, and with the rains pouring, he was soaked through and cold. The running helped, but it didn’t fix it, especially with the blood he’d lost.
He didn’t know how long he’d been running. He couldn’t hear the Reavers anymore, but then, he couldn’t hear much of anything over the rain, so he didn’t bother thinking about it. He had other things to do, other things to focus on, like finding Ellie.
Ducking through the trees, he never once broke his stride. It was hard as hell, trying to track someone in weather like this, but he was managing. He’d laid a couple false trails himself, but Ellie wasn’t that bright, so he wasn’t sure how much good it did him. There were bits of hair here and there, trampled weeds and broken twigs, but most of the giveaways came from the torn shreds of fabric he’d found on more than one occasion.
Luckily for him, Ellie was as shitty an assassin as she was an escapee. Otherwise, he’d have had his face bashed in when she jumped out from behind a tree with a big stick swinging at his head.
He ducked under it just in time and caught her around the waist with an arm. “Drop the damn stick and run,” he shouted at her.
“I can’t run anymore,” she protested, her feet digging into the grass. Tim stopped and turned to her, rain dripping from his lips as he gaped at her.
“You have to,” he told her. “It’s either you run with me or you stay and let them find you. I don’t know what you know about them, but trust me when I say you don’t want to be around when they catch this trail.”
It sounded good, he thought. He wouldn’t do it - leave her behind and let these people catch her - but he hoped the scare tactic would be enough.
Only, it wasn’t.
“Too late, pretty boy.”
Shit.
“Ellie, hide,” Tim said. He recognized the new guy as the smaller of the two sons…not the big guy, and not the head honcho. Still, there was no sense in her running, in getting separated from him. She was just too easy to track, and at least this way he could protect her.
Say what he wanted, though, about her running skills, the girl sure as hell did know how to hide. She made herself scarce, just like Tim told her to.
Unlike all the other times, he didn’t have time for talking. He reached for his gun.
“No you don’t, rat. Hands out to your side where I can see ‘em.”
Double shit.
Tim raised his hands in the air.
“’Atta boy. Now turn around, nice and slow.”
As much as he would’ve liked to do something cavalier and clever, when he had a gun pointed at his back and not much in the way of support, there was really only one logical course of action.
He did as he was told, turning around to face the guy.
The guy whistled. “Pretty little cut you got there, rat. Hurts, don’t it?” The guy reached for him, and Tim started to shove his hand away, but he found himself with a gun barrel to his chest for his trouble. “Uh uh uh, rat, you just hold still now, else I’ll give you something real pretty to bleed from.” The guy grinned, and Tim couldn’t do a damn thing as he dragged his gun across to Tim’s other shoulder. The hurt one.
No matter what, he wouldn’t flinch. He told himself…not one wince, not one hiss, even as the muzzle of the gun dug into the wound.
“Hurts, don’t it?” the man chuckled, dragging the gun down further along the gash. White hot pain flashed behind Tim’s eyes, but still he kept his face steely. “I wanna hear you scream, rat. Scream for me, maybe I’ll kill you quick. Paw wants to make you suffer, killing George and Billy like that…I put one in your brain, save you a world of hurtin’. Just scream for me.”
Tim waited. There was always a time for everything. A time to run, a time to give in…
A time to move.
And this was it.
He dodged to the side the same time as he swung his arm out, setting the guy’s shot off just enough that it didn’t hit meat. He brought up the other arm and caught the guy across the face with his elbow. ‘cause something told him if he used his fist he’d be walking away with broken fingers, and he didn’t want a hurt he didn’t have to get.
He kept hold of the gun as the guy stumbled back, turning it around on the guy as he hit the ground. The idiot started to reach for another gun…his mistake. “Scream for this, you son of a bitch,” Tim said through gritted teeth, and fired off a single round.
The Reaver screamed as the bullet went through both his hands. All thoughts of the gun he’d been going for were gone, and he didn’t even seem to realize what Tim was doing as he marched up and pistol whipped him upside the bald head.
But Tim didn’t stop there. He knew the guy’d come around eventually, and he didn’t want to risk it. Too bad for him, the guy’d brought a roll of barbed wire with him. Wanted to take him back alive, maybe…wanted to make it hurt.
“Shoulda just brought rope,” Tim told him. Grabbing the guy by the hood of his camo jacket, Tim hauled him over to a nearby tree. He was quick, wrapping one wrist in the wire, pulling it around the tree, and wrapping the other. He wouldn’t be able to get out of it, and it’d take his buddies a while to pick it off him anyway.
Emptying out the bullets in the old revolver, he dropped that on the Reaver and replaced it with the gun he’d just nicked. He gave the shotgun the same treatment as the revolver - he needed to move fast and light; a shotgun would slow him down - and then ran to where he’d seen Ellie disappear herself.
“We’re goin’,” he said.
No two ways about it, and this time, Ellie didn’t argue.
Author: verdrehtgeist
Rating: M
Pairing: Raylan/Tim (semi-established)
Notes: Raylan always knew that there were some sick people in his home town. Rapists, dealers, growers, psychopaths...you name it, Harlan probably had it in kind. But with Tim missing, it seems like a bad time to find out that it gets worse than even Raylan could imagine.
Warnings: torture, dark themes
Tim’s lungs burned, but everything else on him was freezing. It was nearing the end of the fall, and with the rains pouring, he was soaked through and cold. The running helped, but it didn’t fix it, especially with the blood he’d lost.
He didn’t know how long he’d been running. He couldn’t hear the Reavers anymore, but then, he couldn’t hear much of anything over the rain, so he didn’t bother thinking about it. He had other things to do, other things to focus on, like finding Ellie.
Ducking through the trees, he never once broke his stride. It was hard as hell, trying to track someone in weather like this, but he was managing. He’d laid a couple false trails himself, but Ellie wasn’t that bright, so he wasn’t sure how much good it did him. There were bits of hair here and there, trampled weeds and broken twigs, but most of the giveaways came from the torn shreds of fabric he’d found on more than one occasion.
Luckily for him, Ellie was as shitty an assassin as she was an escapee. Otherwise, he’d have had his face bashed in when she jumped out from behind a tree with a big stick swinging at his head.
He ducked under it just in time and caught her around the waist with an arm. “Drop the damn stick and run,” he shouted at her.
“I can’t run anymore,” she protested, her feet digging into the grass. Tim stopped and turned to her, rain dripping from his lips as he gaped at her.
“You have to,” he told her. “It’s either you run with me or you stay and let them find you. I don’t know what you know about them, but trust me when I say you don’t want to be around when they catch this trail.”
It sounded good, he thought. He wouldn’t do it - leave her behind and let these people catch her - but he hoped the scare tactic would be enough.
Only, it wasn’t.
“Too late, pretty boy.”
Shit.
“Ellie, hide,” Tim said. He recognized the new guy as the smaller of the two sons…not the big guy, and not the head honcho. Still, there was no sense in her running, in getting separated from him. She was just too easy to track, and at least this way he could protect her.
Say what he wanted, though, about her running skills, the girl sure as hell did know how to hide. She made herself scarce, just like Tim told her to.
Unlike all the other times, he didn’t have time for talking. He reached for his gun.
“No you don’t, rat. Hands out to your side where I can see ‘em.”
Double shit.
Tim raised his hands in the air.
“’Atta boy. Now turn around, nice and slow.”
As much as he would’ve liked to do something cavalier and clever, when he had a gun pointed at his back and not much in the way of support, there was really only one logical course of action.
He did as he was told, turning around to face the guy.
The guy whistled. “Pretty little cut you got there, rat. Hurts, don’t it?” The guy reached for him, and Tim started to shove his hand away, but he found himself with a gun barrel to his chest for his trouble. “Uh uh uh, rat, you just hold still now, else I’ll give you something real pretty to bleed from.” The guy grinned, and Tim couldn’t do a damn thing as he dragged his gun across to Tim’s other shoulder. The hurt one.
No matter what, he wouldn’t flinch. He told himself…not one wince, not one hiss, even as the muzzle of the gun dug into the wound.
“Hurts, don’t it?” the man chuckled, dragging the gun down further along the gash. White hot pain flashed behind Tim’s eyes, but still he kept his face steely. “I wanna hear you scream, rat. Scream for me, maybe I’ll kill you quick. Paw wants to make you suffer, killing George and Billy like that…I put one in your brain, save you a world of hurtin’. Just scream for me.”
Tim waited. There was always a time for everything. A time to run, a time to give in…
A time to move.
And this was it.
He dodged to the side the same time as he swung his arm out, setting the guy’s shot off just enough that it didn’t hit meat. He brought up the other arm and caught the guy across the face with his elbow. ‘cause something told him if he used his fist he’d be walking away with broken fingers, and he didn’t want a hurt he didn’t have to get.
He kept hold of the gun as the guy stumbled back, turning it around on the guy as he hit the ground. The idiot started to reach for another gun…his mistake. “Scream for this, you son of a bitch,” Tim said through gritted teeth, and fired off a single round.
The Reaver screamed as the bullet went through both his hands. All thoughts of the gun he’d been going for were gone, and he didn’t even seem to realize what Tim was doing as he marched up and pistol whipped him upside the bald head.
But Tim didn’t stop there. He knew the guy’d come around eventually, and he didn’t want to risk it. Too bad for him, the guy’d brought a roll of barbed wire with him. Wanted to take him back alive, maybe…wanted to make it hurt.
“Shoulda just brought rope,” Tim told him. Grabbing the guy by the hood of his camo jacket, Tim hauled him over to a nearby tree. He was quick, wrapping one wrist in the wire, pulling it around the tree, and wrapping the other. He wouldn’t be able to get out of it, and it’d take his buddies a while to pick it off him anyway.
Emptying out the bullets in the old revolver, he dropped that on the Reaver and replaced it with the gun he’d just nicked. He gave the shotgun the same treatment as the revolver - he needed to move fast and light; a shotgun would slow him down - and then ran to where he’d seen Ellie disappear herself.
“We’re goin’,” he said.
No two ways about it, and this time, Ellie didn’t argue.