(no subject)
Annnd now a Lightwaves update, which gets its own post because it's so damn long. It's basically just a wall of horrible Worth angst, so uh... hopefully people enjoy it? Huur...
First: Here
Previous: Here
Title: Lightwaves
Authors: Myself and HosekiDragon
Rating: PG-13 at present
Characters: Worth, Lamont, Hanna, un!Zombie, Toni, Conrad, Veser, villain!OC of doom and lameness.
Chapters: 19/26
Description: Sprawling thousands of miles and surrounded by walls, the City of Varuna is a sight to behold. People are under constant watch and surveillance under the name of protection. The only issue now is Undesirables. Paranormal creatures, vampires and werewolves, remnants of an ancient and dying world. These creatures are expected to register with the government and are seen as second class citizens, living in oppression so as to avoid tainting the other citizens and ruining their quality of life.
"Eli" is a member of the Ahimsa, the police agency charged with dealing with Undesirables. He's beginning to feel rather disillusioned with the world he's living in. Fortunately for him, a certain redhead is about to come crashing into his life...
He really didn't want to do this.
It was quite possibly the stupidest move they could ever make -- invading Vitra Tower -- but they were doing it anyway, and Lamont supposed that was why he was so frustrated.
That, and because of the promise.
Lamont remembered it so clearly because it was one of the few times he and Worth hadn't been drunk, one of the few times he had been able to have a decent, serious talk with the doctor without it turning into a fist fight; one of the few nights Hanna had been asleep; one of the few nights they had been wide awake, burdened by shadows of the past.
It had been hard, so hard, to try and pretend everything hadn't happened, and it had been a terror to try and escape it. A terror Lamont had been more than willing to try and let go. And they had talked and it had been a discussion the likes of which they had never had again.
That was the night that they had made a promise.
Both of them had promised each other that they would never get involved with the Council, they would never invade Vitra Tower, and they would never, ever cross a line that would cause them to go back to the inner circle as less than citizens.
Yes, Worth had ruined his life; yes, had broken that promise; yes, Worth had put them all in terrible danger, and Conrad was probably traumatized for life because of what had happened to him. And, damn it all, Lamont knew how stupid this was, how ridiculous and risky this was, and he knew they could all end up dead doing it.
But here he was, going along with it, doing it anyway. He could almost hear Worth laughing and calling him a weak little pussy as he gathered up everything necessary for this ridiculously suicidal mission.
Yet, beyond all the frustration and the worry and the fear, there was one solid reason that he was going along with all this insanity.
Worth was his friend.
Worth was his friend, and he owed the man his life.
In words, it seemed like such a simple reason, but in feeling, it somehow ran much deeper.
That was why he was going along with this silly plan, and Lamont knew it. He didn't have to like what they were doing but he was going along with it because Worth had already done the same for him.
Twice.
"Lamont?" The dealer jumped, nearly dropping a handful of communicators to the floor, and looked around to see Hanna standing in the doorway to the storage room. The redhead's expression was clear but his blue eyes danced with a certain understanding; he knew why Lamont was back here, fiddling needlessly with some technology that was in perfect working order.
"Uh, eheh, yeah Hanna?" Lamont forced a casual smile, setting the communicators aside.
"It's time to go."
The dealer blinked, sighed, and then smiled -- a real smile, "All right then. Heh, guess it's time to get our resident jackass back."
Hanna's face was suddenly brightened by a beaming grin, "Yeah! Let's give those Council guys the ol' one-two in the face!" Hanna swung an arm through the air, imitating a punch, "And we can get our friend back too."
"Yeah," Lamont agreed with knowing smile, "We can get our friend back."
It was a stupid, reckless idea.
But they needed to do it anyway.
---
It had been four days.
Worth was only aware it had been four days because Ellis seemed to have a rather meticulous appreciation for time. Every few hours or so he was warbling in the blond's ear, cheerily reminding Worth just how long he'd been there. This was always accompanied by a cheery remark that there was no way his friends were coming to save him, so he may as well give up.
Except that was just fine with Worth. Let them not come, he'd fucking told them not to.
Aside from the constant annoyance of Ellis -- whom was a constant buzzing in his ear like some sort of lab coat-clad mosquito -- the days had passed by in a sort of agonizing blur. Beating after beating that had left him bruised and bleeding, creative uses of that damn metal rod and other implements leaving him mildly impressed. There'd been the removal of the knife and cuts that traced along inches of already scarred skin, areas where it had been stabbed and twisted inward like some sort of razor corkscrew. There had been injections of things that Worth hadn't even recognized that sent fire through his veins, left him thrashing in his chair and fighting back screams
After roughly a day and a half it had become clear to his captor that he really couldn't do this on his own, and so Ellis had finally gone to the professionals. In a way, Worth saw this as a victory, and it was hard not to when the frustration was so clearly expressed on Ellis' face. Of course, his captor's frustration had quickly turned to glee as the professionals had promptly taken the blond and waterboarded him, left him choking and gasping for air and laughing in a garbled sort of manner, because fuck, did they really think drowning was of any concern to him?
That was the problem, when it came down to it. Ellis and his little hired goons certainly tried to get under his skin. There had been acupuncture needles and screws jammed into his flesh; he'd been burned and choked and jammed into an airtight box that felt more like a coffin. There had been still more fists, and far too much electricity, and hours where he was simply trapped in the dark, feeling nothing and hearing nothing, thanks to combinations of serums that left him a prisoner in his own body. There had been days of abuse and mere hours of sleep between them, doctors occasionally rushing in and working just enough to patch him up or force healing pills down his throat so skin could knit together and blood could replenish. Just so it could all be repeated.
It had been four days of hell and, when it came down to it, the only thing that was really bothered him was that lovely little mess people called nicotine withdrawal. Funny that after everything else, it was the throbbing headache, tingling in his fingers and the ache in his lungs that really bothered him. Sure, breathing through a broken nose was no picnic and, after a certain point for him, pain did in fact stop being fun; however, Worth had always been the sort of person to toe the line between life and death, gladly inviting every chance to feel that crisp bite to his system to remind him that he was alive. There had been a time where each day had been an exercise in seeking these things out, where each slice from a knife or punch to the gut had been what he lived for, and even now he couldn't quite explain where it all had come from. All he can really think of is the time where he and Lamont had fought for the fifth time in a week shortly after fleeing the inner circle and he'd suddenly found his best friend shaking him violently, shouting a question he was never quite sure of the answer to.
"Do you just want to die, Worth? Is that your fucking problem!?"
At the time, Worth had just stared at him, unsure of how to reply. Now seated in the darkness of his cell with nothing but the cold clasps around his wrists and the throb of his wounds for company, it suddenly seemed impossibly funny. The blond let out a soft chuckle at the memory, the sound echoing through the darkness. Maybe that was his problem, or perhaps it was just some sort of challenge to him. How long could he last before he finally got his wish and died young, immortal in his thirties and not giving a damn about any of it?
He supposed that's what he was holding out for. He didn't expect to get out. It wasn't that he wanted to die, but he knew better than to expect otherwise. He'd orchestrated everything from behind the scenes enough, he figured, and now all he could hope was what he'd done would be enough to take that bastard down in the end. He wasn't really expecting to live.
But he'd be damned if he didn't plan to give Ellis hell to his dying breath and possibly after.
"Good morning, Worth~!" The door slid open with its usual light hiss and Ellis strode in, hands stuffed into the pockets of a very familiar coat. "You like it? It's yours." He grinned, a sneering expression that showed his teeth. "I had to wash it a couple of times to get all the stink and grime out, but the fur is a nice addition." His smile grew, mocking. "I think I look dashing in it. So what about you? How are you today? Feel more like talking?"
The blond just sort of stared at him through his one working eye, the other inflamed into an impressive black bruise that was too swollen to be seen through for the moment. Finally, he let out a snort. "Ugh, it looks stupid on you. Seriously, take it off, you're not even tall enough for it," he said as he shook his head. Inside he was fuming, because damnit: no one washed his coat.
What was really sad was that between this and the snapping of his middle finger, a part of Worth honestly wasn't sure which was the more grievous sin against him. If there was anything he regretted about this whole mess, it was this. He fucking loved that coat.
"You're just jealous because it looks better on me." Ellis smiled. "Besides, you shouldn't be so grumpy! I brought a special present for you today!"
Worth's eyebrows rose for a moment before he gave a snort. "Oh gee, you shouldn't have. Is it tha' chance to punch you in the face that I've been wantin' so Goddamn much?" He wanted a more witty reply, he really did, but even the blond's seemingly endless bag of insults was running low after days of little to no sleep and withdrawal.
Ellis' smile dropped a bit. "No, sorry to disappoint you. It's actually better than that." He drew his hands out of the pockets and held up a large syringe filled with a thick red liquid, "I had this idea especially for you. There's a book called Nineteen Eighty-Four and there's this one particular scene in it that --."
"You read?" The doctor cut in, his expression one of exaggerated surprise. "An' for that matter, I thought Nineteen Eighty-Four was banned… damn Ellis, I'm almost impressed."
"Shut up!" Ellis snarled, before composing himself and spinning the syringe in his fingers, "As I was saying, there's this one particular scene I rather liked where the main character was taken hostage and they... hm, word ...what's the word I'm looking for? Oh, reeducate him." Ellis grinned. "And my favorite bit is this thing called Room 101."
The scientist began pacing back and forth, swinging the needle in his hand, occasionally fluffing the furry color of Worth's coat, "Now Room 101 is a really horrible place. They would make you experience your worst fear, whatever it might be, and it doesn't really matter who you were because that would make anyone crack." Ellis clasped his hands behind his back but continued to pace, looking for all the world like a teacher speaking to a class of youngsters. "In the book, the main character's greatest fear was rats. So they threatened to take a cage of rats and attach it to his face so they'd eat out his eyes."
Ellis laughed, finally stopping his pacing in front of Worth with that stupid, wide grin on his face. "But see, you're already pretty rat-like -- stinking rodent that you are -- so it wouldn't work like that for you. Still, the idea is nice." He lifted the syringe up, letting the crimson stuff on the inside catch the light. "This serum has a similar effect. I'm pretty sure you remember it from Subject Thirteen, don't you?" He tested the plunger, sending a fine spray of red into the air. "What's wrong, Worthy? Cat got your tongue? Don't you have something to say? Some witty comeback? Anything?"
The blond considered his captor's words for a moment, grimacing slightly. Not because of the serum, because no, that didn't worry him. Mostly it was the memory of those wide blue eyes, staring sightlessly into nothing as his mouth paid lip service to everything, as that crimson poison tore through his mind and left him crying and pleading for people who no longer existed.
After a moment Worth let out a breath, forcing himself back into the present. There was no sense in worrying about that, the past was past and he had a far more aggravating future staring him in the face. He gave the best shrug he could manage. "Sorry Ellis, if you're looking for a reaction you're not gonna get it. You should know by now, I ain't scared of anything." He cocked his head to the side and grinned, ignoring the splinters of pain from the motion. "Besides, ain't that stuff illegal? Seeing how it has a seventy percent chance of fuckin' destroying my mind, and you aren't getting shit if that happens."
"Oh, please," Ellis scoffed, stepping closer. "If Subject Thirteen could live through it, then you'll be more then fine. I just can't wait to see you reduced to a sniveling pile of hysterics." With that, the scientist leaned down and slid the needle into Worth's arm, pressing down on the plunger and sending the red liquid in to do its dirty work.
His prisoner didn't even react as the needle bit into his skin, save for glaring up at Ellis. As soon as the needle was removed, the doctor let out a sigh as he turned to stare at the wall. "Right, well, this'd better be interestin'. If all I get is a bad trip, 'm gonna be disappointed," he muttered, settling in his chair as if he were preparing to watch an incredibly dull movie.
"With a mind like yours, I expect quite the spectacle." Ellis said cheerfully, dragging a cart across the floor to stand behind Worth's chair, "I haven't had lunch yet...maybe I'll get dinner and a show!" The scientist began humming to himself as he unrolled a line of wires and began sticking pads to Worth's head, securing them to his temples and forehead, "Remember this thing, Worth? I get see exactly what you're seeing! Isn't that exciting?"
"Fantastic," Worth said dryly as he rolled his eyes, jerking his head away on reflex from one of the pads so he could flash disgusting teeth in Ellis' direction. "It's so good t' know Varuna's tax dollars are going to the important shit in life."
The scientist behind him huffed as he booted up the machine and dragged a chair over, "This is important and you know it. Now just sit back and relax, all right? The show's about to start." There was a horrible smile in Ellis' voice when he spoke.
He received a low sigh in response, the doctor wincing as a low throbbing pain returned to his skull. "Ugh. Well, look, aside from my fuckin' head and feelin' a bit dizzy, I'm not getting any visions of spectral horror, so maybe you oughta --"
He was cut off by the door hissing open and a couple of familiar figures were shoved into the room, followed by a couple of the Ahimsa guards. They were beaten and bruised, hands cuffed behind their backs, stumbling as though the floor was tilting beneath them. Hanna and Lamont fell to their knees on the metal floor with heavy thuds and grunts of pain, the guards behind them standing close by, those electrical sticks held in close vicinity to their captives.
The blond's eyes widened as he took in the sight of them, breath catching in his throat. "…What?"
"Oh. Well that's interesting..." The scientist behind him murmured. "Anyway, I brought some friends in to see you, Worth," Ellis said mildly, "I thought maybe they could help to loosen your tongue..."
Hanna was staring up at Worth with those wide, terrified blue eyes, a confusing mixture of betrayal, pain, and fear playing across his face. There were bruises all across his thin frame, he was wearing nothing but a pair of dirty shorts, his scarred chest exposed and covered in swollen needle points and cuts. The edges of that horrid scar were an awful, inflamed, irritated red. He didn't say anything, his face a pale as he gazed at Worth, pleading for help.
Lamont, on the other hand, was not so quiet, "Hey Worth... enjoyin' the view, you stupid fuck? I told you not to come. Now look what happened..." The dealer was definitely the worse for wear, even as he flashed a grim smile. Dried blood was caked across his face, nearly masking the horrible bruises there, deep and barely healed cuts traced his burly arms, his shirt was nearly in shreds, and his breathing was shallow and labored.
The doctor was silent for a moment, yellowed teeth clenched, eyes wide and body completely rigid as he took in the sight of them. There was something so horribly familiar about these images, reminiscent of flashes of Lamont in prison from years earlier and those bright eyes gazing up at him from a work table. After a moment, however, he shook his head violently, grimacing at the agony that laced through his skull from the motion. "No. No, they're not fucking here," he tried to angle himself so he could face Ellis, and was irritated to find he couldn't. In spite of this, he smirked. "Nice try bastard, but I know better. If you really had them, you'd have brought 'em in before now. This is the drug. Don't fuck with me, dumbass, I'm smarter than that."
"Worth..." Hanna's voice was a whimper of fear and desperation, "Worth, I'm sorry...I...we were just trying to save you a-and..."
"We caught them," Ellis giggled childishly, speaking as if both Hanna and Worth hadn't spoken. "Oooh, it was so easy, really. We followed your friend back to your little hidy-hole and raided it. Easy as pie. It was wonderful."
"Worth," Hanna's pleading voice again, "Worth, they killed Rogerio... they shot him...!" A tremor crept into the redhead's voice, "He's dead..."
"Dead as a doornail," Ellis added helpfully and Hanna whimpered pitifully.
"Don't listen to him, Hanna," Lamont grunted. "Heh, we'll pay them back..." That confident edge to his voice dropped a little as he looked up at Worth and added, "Somehow."
The blond felt his stomach give a violent twist at these words, and he wasn't sure if it was the drug or the idea of it all that was causing that reaction. Again, he shook his head and was frustrated to find this only made his growing dizzyness worse. "You're lying," He said again, a tenseness in his hands sending splinters of pain through his broken fingers and the gaping wound in his palm. "This is the drug. Don't fuck with me Ellis, you didn't find them. You couldn't have found them."
"Didn't I?" Ellis snorted. "Look at the faces of your friends and tell me that. Or, better yet, ask them how the rest of your rebel trash died."
"If it's any, aheh, any consolation," Lamont said thickly, "Toni and Veser kept fighting the whole time. Veser was cussing them out like a whirlwind -- you would have been proud." A smirk traced the dealer's bruised face. "Haha, and Toni... she was something else. Right Hanna...?"
"Yeah..." That dejected, hurt, lost tone in Hanna's voice was almost painful to listen to. His eyes were still locked on Worth's, begging for help, alone and wounded, "Yeah, sh-she kept fighting..." He let out another one of those pathetic whimpering noises. "Connie didn't get to fight at all, though..."
"No..." Lamont's voice dropped into a hoarse, dark tone, "No, he didn't." His dark eyes flickered up to meet Worth's gaze, "You sent him out into the field when he wasn't ready and he came back, he came back scared out of his fucking mind. Traumatized." The dealer shook his head, looking genuinely upset. "When the Ahimsa attacked he... he never stood a chance."
"He screamed," Hanna murmured and for an instant, his eyes closed as though he was fighting off tears. Then they were open again, horrified, wide. "K-kept screaming... cursing you... hating you... hating you for what happened to him..."
Worth grit his teeth, tried not to consider the sinking in his chest as if everything was falling out from beneath him. Because no, this could not be true. It was too practiced, too rehearsed, as if Hanna and Lamont were reading a script from his own mind. It had to be the serum coursing through his veins, picking through his brain, but of course that made no sense because he wasn't scared of anything and cared for no one, so this shouldn't have been happening. It should have been rats gnawing at his flesh, should have been bugs swarming his eyes, something ridiculous and stupid and corporeal that he could handle.
What he couldn't take were those eyes, wide and pleading and hurt as if this whole mess were his fault. What he couldn't take were Lamont's words and fuck, of course he knew the dealer is right because Conrad hadn't ready for this. Worth had thought he had been ready but of course the vampire wasn't and Goddamnit no. No, that was not true, because Worth had seen the set of the former graphic designer's shoulders, had seen that determination in his eyes and damnit this was not his fault because if it hadn't been for Hanna, the little spy mission would have been fine…
This was not his fault. This was not true.
But Worth could see it all in his mind's eye as clearly as if he'd been there. He could see Veser going down in a haze of gunfire and cursing, green-eyed and young and too fucking reckless for his own good. He could see Toni leaping through their destroyed factory, could see the silver bullet that finally took her down and sent her tumbling to the floor, beautiful and somehow artistic even in death. He could see Hanna's partner shoving the redhead aside in a desperate attempt to shield him, a show of pointless heroics for a fight he'd never fully understood. He could see Conrad curled in a ball on the floor, screaming and crying like a child, those eyes wide and starved and demanding to know why this was happening.
Why, Worth? Why did you send him out there?
The doctor didn't have an answer, so all he could do was shake his head again. "Liar," he murmured as he squeezed his eyes shut, though his voice was weaker this time, more distant. The images were coming too quickly to fight now and everything was spinning, he was having trouble remembering anything but the scene before him. But still he clung to that word, stubbornly, a lifeline in the abyss.
This could not be true. It could not be. Worth wouldn't let it be true.
"Worth..." Hanna's voice moaned, shaking, begging, pathetically weak. "W-we're not lying...why won't you look at me? Worth…W-Worth…!"
"Easy, Hanna," Lamont muttered.
"Uh-oh," Ellis' tone was mocking, almost laughing. "Look at that, you made Subject Thirteen cry. I didn't realize it had the ability to do that; probably just crocodile tears, hm?"
"You bastard," Lamont's voice grumbled. "You broke our promise." There was a shivering, gulping sob from Hanna. "And you made the kid cry, way to go."
"Now, now, Worth," Ellis was obviously enjoying himself, "don't be so cruel." There was a creak as the scientist shifted in his seat, "All I want is the information. Tell me what you did to Subject Thirteen and nobody else has to get hurt."
Worth shook his head and threw himself back against his seat, kicked those bruises and burns on his sides back to life in an attempt to drive away the splinters of nightmare in his head. Hanna did not cry like this, Lamont didn't say things like this. It didn't fit, it could not be real. Just tune it out, they aren't there, this isn't real and it shouldn't matter because you don't care anyway...
"Worth!" Hanna shouted, "Please!"
"Someone shut it up..." Ellis murmured in a bored sort of voice, "I'm trying to think, here."
There was a shuffle and then a heavy thwack that cracked the air. Hanna let out a cry of pain and there was a thud. Lamont shouted a loud curse and then there was another sound of something heavy hitting flesh.
The blond actually flinched at this. "Leave them alone. They're not real, this is stupid…" He ground out. He knew this was not real, he was trying so desperately to cling to the idea, but the sound of those cries were like weights on his shoulders, dragging him down and grinding into his broken fingers like someone stomping on them, chipping at his grip on reality.
"Worth, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" Lamont was shouting at him. "We're right here! Open your Goddamn eyes! What, you just don't want to admit that it's your fault!?" There was another strike and the dealer grunted in pain. "You stupid shit! Is this so hard to believe!? We're right here! Look at us! Look at Hanna! This is your doing! Your fault!"
The words hit the blond like a sledgehammer, had him physically cringing as he tried to throw them off. He could desperately cling to denial, could try to ignore the way reality seemed to be slipping through his fingers like water. He could remind himself that Hanna and Lamont were so much stronger than this, that they were all so much stronger than this. He had denial after denial for everything else but Worth did not lie to himself and he wasn't sure he could deny those words.
Except this wasn't happening. This wasn't happening, and Worth had to try to remind himself of that. He had to hold on to that because this was not his fault, could not be his fault and damn it, it shouldn't have mattered because for the doctor responsibility was normally something that slid off of him like water.
"I d-don't wanna be here...!" Hanna was crying, his voice sputtering with tears and undiluted terror. "Please, Worth, you know what they'll do to us! Wh-what they'll do to me! Don't leave me here! Worth!" And then he shouted in pain as he was struck again.
This was too familiar. It was a knife in his brain that picked at memories of screams in a too small lab. It was too familiar and Lamont laying there beaten and bruised was too familiar and it was kicking at that voice in his brain, the one that he usually ignored that remembered these things all too clearly and had made that damn promise to Lamont without batting an eye.
We won't go there, 'Mont, promise. We're fuckin' smarter than that. You and Hanna will be safe. This will not happen again. Never again.
"Wow, Worth, I guess I pegged you wrong," Ellis said as the sounds of Hanna and Lamont shouting and being beaten continued. "See, I thought you actually cared about your friends but you're just sitting there, letting them get pummeled. If you keep letting that go on, one of them might... break."
Those words made him want to snap back, made anger twist in his gut like a flame. Because no, that was not true. Hanna and Lamont were stronger than that, they would not break for a bastard like Ellis. They were stronger than that, they had to be stronger than that, he would not have sent Hanna off to do the things he did if the redhead hadn't been able to take care of himself. He would not have stepped back and used them all in his stupid game if he hadn't been sure they couldn't handle it, he wasn't stupid. They were stronger than that and they'd chosen this fight and damnit it was not his fault if they'd all made their own decisions.
"L-look at me, Worth!" Lamont shouted angrily. "You fucking coward! Running away from what you've done! Coward!"
And Hanna was just screaming his name, begging for help as he was struck again and again, pleading to be let go, that he would rather be anywhere but here, that he didn't want to go through everything again, and that they had to get out, and everyone was dead because of them.
Worth was left cringing against it, fighting against the swirls and twinges and the sheer jumbled mess that was becoming his thoughts. He wanted so badly to believe this wasn't happening, but those cries were making it so damn hard. This was the first time the idea of confessing had even crossed his mind. Before it had been all about getting a rise from Ellis, competing in his own personal hell to see just how long this shit would take. Now it was about something else and as much as he wanted to fight against it, the idea of any of them dying for him is almost incomprehensible. It is incomprehensible but here it is and damnit, this isn't real.
Suddenly Worth felt as if he were made from nothing but anger, and he wasn't sure if it was anger directed at Ellis or the two in front of him or the damn drug in his system but fuck, all he wanted to do is punch someone's face in. He was shuddering in his chair as he struggled to rise and somehow move, felt that twinge in his broken fingers and struggled to grasp onto that pain like some sort of life line.
This was not real. This could not be real. He had to focus on that and the rage in his system, had to --
"I forgot how annoying Subject Thirteen could be when it opens its mouth." Ellis scoffed, "But your friend is doing a pretty decent job of pissing me off too. Maybe we should shut him up permanently? What do you think, Worth? Would that be enough to make you talk? Should I do it? I could, you know, all it would take was a single word..."
These words made Worth's eyes shoot open, pupils dark and frantic as they fell upon Lamont and Hanna. He sat there for a moment and tried to force his body to relax, force his chest out of the death grip it had taken on his heart and lungs. Those wide eyes met Lamont's, and Worth was completely frozen, because he had no idea how to even react.
"A bullet to the brain, Worth," Ellis said and there was a smile in his voice. "Click. Bang. And that's the end of it. You want to see if I won't do it?" The guard behind Lamont reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. "Tell me what I want to hear, Worth, and no one has to die today. All you have to do is talk."
He wasn't sure how to respond, words suddenly caught in his throat, jumbled and fighting and leaving an unsure mess as to what to come out. There were curses against Ellis and curses against Lamont and Hanna and the whole fucking world, curses against those damn kids back at a factory that burned, curses and screams that this was not his fault, none of it was his fucking fault and some sort of plea that he hadn't known could even come from him. There's the plea that he hates because damn it all he and 'Mont were not known for sympathy or friendly bullshit but he needs it now and there are those words in this throat, heaviest and worst of all, terms that can save his best friend and damn a kid who means so much to him in an instant.
He was suddenly cripplingly aware that he could not save both and he just didn't know what to do.
"Don't tell them anything!" Lamont shouted, voice rising an octave in something that was almost panic, "Whatever happens, don't tell them anything! At least keep that promise, Worth! At least keep that one!" The dealer's eyes narrowed. "And just remember that I wouldn't be here if you didn't break the first one..."
"Shut up, you fucking moron," Worth wasn't sure where the words were coming from -- as if he were speaking in tongues -- but he knew they were his because his voice was hoarse as fuck. He knew those words were his and, Goddamnit 'Mont, don't give them a reason, this is so fucking stupid. This whole thing was as stupid as the idea that he'd let it all happen in the first place, like the idea that Lamont had even been caught years ago and, yeah, Worth was aware it was him that put the dealer there at all. It was his fault, and that was why they'd made that damn promise and, fuck it 'Mont, you know I don't keep promises, why are you looking at me like that?
But he'd made that damn promise to stop this from happening, and damnit, Worth knew, and he remembered, and they'd both sworn to keep Hanna safe. They had sworn that but it seemed so impossible in this situation. So aall the doctor could do was shake his head and he hates that that's all he has, as if he's stuck on repeat. In spite of this his mouth continues, unbidden, speaking for him, full of rage and disbelief. "Don't… Ellis, don't you fucking dare…"
"What's that?" Ellis asked childishly, "Didn't quite hear you, Worthy? Were you about to tell me what you did to Subject Thirteen? Or do I have to shoot someone?"
At that point, Hanna let out a wordless, pained cry, tears streaming from his eyes. "Don't!" His voice was shaking, cracked, desperate, a broken, lost sound that didn't sound like Hanna at all, "Please... don't kill him! Don't kill anyone! No more killing..." He shook his head, thin, ruined chest heaving with sobs. "No more killing!"
Worth heard those words and he wanted so badly to say something. Normally Hanna's pleading was nothing to him, but this was so different from usual and he wasn't sure what to do. Normally, it was Worth's job to put Hanna back together so, of course, that was all he wanted. He wanted to take Hanna and fix all those stupid wounds and promise that no, no one was going to die and shake the damn kid if he kept crying, wanted to lie and tell him it was fine and everyone was okay and anything, anything if it would make Hanna stop.
But of course he couldn't do that, and Worth was well aware of that as he sat under those hot lights. He sat under those lights, long body bent forward as if it were trapped under the weight of the world, and rather suddenly he was raising his eyes to meet Lamont's. Because no, Worth couldn't say anything and he knew it. He could not give Hanna up because he promised, he could not give Hanna up because he knew things would be so much worse if he did. He wanted to lie and tell the redhead everything was going to be okay, but of course it wasn't.
His decision had already been made years ago, and he hoped that would be conveyed somehow in his face as he met Lamont's gaze. He looked into the eyes of a dead man and of course he knew he couldn't say anything, because it didn't mean anything, not when he'd left Lamont kneeling on the floor like that.
He had just damned his best friend and they both knew it.
Ellis took this struggling silence as an answer.
"I can't believe you. I mean, I knew you were an asshole but this --" the scientist let out a sickening snort of laughter -- "this is almost too much." He laughed again and then sighed, "Well, all right then, have it your way. You've made your choice then, no backsies." A creak from the chair, Ellis' voice right by Worth's ear, a sniggering command, breath still stinking of coffee: "Mr. Toucey is no longer of any use. Shoot him."
Hanna let out another scream, sparks flying from his bracers, thrashing in his bonds. His words were a jumbled mess, incoherent cries for mercy, to stop, to let them go, to stop the killing. The Ahimsa guard behind him slammed his foot into the redhead's back and pinned Hanna to the floor. Hanna twisted, sniveling, begging crying.
The guard with his gun drawn, lowered it, aiming at Lamont's skull but the dealer jerked away, trying to stay out of reach. The guard grabbed the back of Lamont's shirt, hauling him back, and pressed the gun barrel into Lamont's black hair.
"No! Stop! Please!" Hanna cried, "Worth, make them stop! Don't kill him! Please! Don't kill him!"
"Remember your promise, Worth!" Lamont shouted as the sound of the gun charging got louder, a buzzing hum against Hanna's shrieking. "Remember that!" The dealer's voice dropped suddenly: "And take care of Hanna. Don't let them get him. Don't let them use him like you used us for your fucking games..."
"Enough," Ellis snorted. "Kill him already."
"NO!" A final scream from Hanna, and then the crack of a gunshot.
There was a dull, empty sort of thud as Lamont's body hit the floor, limp, lifeless.
Dead.
Hanna choked, staring with wide, shocked blue eyes that still ran with tears. He didn't make a sound, just stared, first at Lamont's body and then, slowly, he looked to Worth.
And there was blame in those eyes.
Without a word, he was pinning it all on Worth. All the trauma, all the fighting, all the hatred, all the pain, all the death; he was throwing it on Worth's shoulders, blaming him for everything that had happened. Accusing, hurt, angry, and wondering why.
Why, Worth, why? Why did you let this happen? Why did you let them do this to me? Why did you let them hurt me? Why did you let them hurt my friends? Why did you let them all die?
The doctor was completely silent, dark eyes wide, unable to breathe as he gazed down at the blood splatters on the floor. He had not looked away, could not have looked away, because of course he owed it to his best friend to at least fucking watch the execution he'd essentially ordered. He had not looked away and now he couldn't. His entire body was suddenly felt numb, his chest hollow, his mind spinning and damn it all there was still some pathetic word in his mind, something about a drug and how this wasn't real but in the face of Lamont's body it was suddenly nothing. Those words meant nothing and there was his best friend, dead on the floor, dead and damn it all he had promised this wouldn't happen.
Worth shook his head, tried to swallow the burn in his throat, let it settle onto his shoulders like everything else. You made the decision Worth, fucking deal. Men don't cry or react to this bullshit and of course Lamont would not have wanted him to crumble, not really, but it was hard with the sudden stabbing agony in his chest and the burning in his throat. The blond gulped, trying to clear it, and suddenly he felt cripplingly aware of just how long it had been since he'd had a good drink or a cigarette and that was all he wanted. Just drown in alcohol and cigarettes and let it all slide away, latch onto that familiar persona that didn't give a shit and bury it all beneath substance abuse.
But of course there was no numbing this, nothing to be done to put it all away, and the kid was watching him, blaming him, and damn it all.
So he leaned forward, face in shadow as he struggled to get some form of breath in his lungs. When he finally managed it, it was like breathing in fire, that single breath catching everything aflame. Rather suddenly that crushing weight was transferred to something different, something dark and awful that flowed through his veins like liquid steel.
"…You fucking bastard…" The words came out in a whisper, barely audible.
"Ooohh, haven't heard that one before," Ellis said in a sarcastic voice. "Are you ready to talk yet, Worth? Ready to tell us what you did? Your friend died because you wouldn't say anything. Is that really what you want? Just talk. That's all I want."
"You had no right…." Worth shook his head again, barely even noticing the way the room spun. "You Goddamn ass!" With those words, he suddenly exploded in his chair, jerking backwards in a desperate attempt to loosen his restraints. In the past four days he hadn't tried, but this was different, so very different. It didn't matter that he was so beat up he could barely move; it didn't matter that the room was filled with armed guards; it didn't matter that he was well aware that the restraints could hold a vampire at full strength. In that moment, all he wanted was to be loose and tear Ellis limb from limb.
"You had no fucking right!" the blond roared as he thrashed, trying desperately to just move enough to get the bastard in his sights. "Why the fuck did you do that!? He didn't do anything to you! They were worth more alive than dead, you Goddamn moron! This was between you and me, Ellis! You and me!"
"It certainly was," Ellis replied cheekily. "And it still is. You're the one who dragged everyone else into this. You're the one who decided to stay safe in your rundown castle while you sent your pawns out to play. You're the one who got them killed, Worth. You did that! Look at Subject Thirteen! Look at him and tell him it's not your fault! Go on! Do it! I dare you!"
This drew an enraged snarl from Worth, the doctor throwing himself backwards in an attempt to somehow lash out at his rival, even if it just involved bashing both of their heads in. "It's not!" He snapped. "I don't give a shit, it wasn't my fucking responsibility! I tried to fucking stop, it was you who kept going, it was you who wouldn't leave it alone! They fucking made their decisions! Don't you dare pin this on me, you idea-stealing bastard!"
Ellis let out peal of laughter. "Your idea!? Unless I'm very much mistaken, the records state that that idea was mine! And if you don't start talking the results of my idea are going to get hurt!"
As if to demonstrate, the Ahimsa guard pinning Hanna to the floor drove the tip of the electric stick into the back of the redhead's neck. Hanna screamed and bucked as the electricity flowed through him, tears still streaming from his eyes, the tattoos on his body flickering with each wave of pain that lanced through him.
Again the blond thrashed, hands clenching into fists, splinters of agony from his broken fingers only seeming to add fuel to the fire. "Leave him alone! He isn't yours, you asshole, and if you don't fucking stop --"
"You'll what!?" Ellis cut in. "Curse at me? Ha! Look, maybe Subject Thirteen really was yours to begin with, but -- oh wwaaiiiittt...! You know that means this really is your fault, right? Because it belonged to you first? It is your fault."
Somehow, these words proved to be the breaking point. Perhaps it was the acknowledgement that Worth couldn't do anything, the horrible reminder of those clamps on his wrists and ankles that held him back. Perhaps it was those words, echoing Lamont's nearly word for word, joining the man's legacy in his skull and branding themselves there, tugging at memories of deaths he hadn't seen. Whatever it was, the words suddenly had the doctor slumping in his chair, teeth grinding together as he tried so damn hard to fight against something he knew he could never deny, not fully.
"Worth..." Hanna whimpered, still on the floor though he was no longer pinned there by the guard, "Worth... why...? Why did you let this happen...? Why did you let them all die?" Those blue eyes stared up at him, pleading, begging, wondering, lost. "Why did you let this happen to me?"
"Oh, that's easy to answer," the scientist behind Worth said with a smile in his voice. "It's because he doesn't care about you."
Hanna's eyes widened, tears trickling down his cheeks, and he stared at Worth, begging for the doctor to tell him it was a lie, to tell him that what Ellis said was nothing but empty words, that Worth really did care.
Those eyes met Worth's dark gaze and the doctor still didn't know what to say. Because as much as he wanted to deny it, fuck, of course he cared. He'd started caring the moment he saw those Goddamn eyes and he wanted to deny it-- but of course he couldn't, not anymore. Hanna had wormed his way into his life and made himself everything, made himself all that mattered. But of course he couldn't say it because fuck, Hanna, you know I don't do that, and if I say anything you know what fucking happens…
"Hanna…" Again his lips were moving against his will, and the doctor shook his head. Because in that moment all he wanted to do was reach out and reassure the kid, to drop empty promises and somehow push Lamont's body away, find some impossible way to make it all work, but he can't. He can't because he and Ellis both know this damn kid was the one who had started and ended Worth's world, was the reason for everything, and if Worth vocalized that he would ruin it all.
Admit you care for something, and it will be taken away. Welcome to Varuna.
"Worth...?" Small, pleading, so very un-Hanna-like that it was almost painful.
"Look, I'll make a deal with you," Ellis said in a low voice. "You tell me what you did, and I won't have to hurt it anymore. Because you know that every time we hit Subject Thirteen, every strike, it will blame you."
Worth shook his head again, and damn that gesture for being all he had. He wanted to have something else, anything else to make this better. He wanted to be able to reach out and stop this, but he was aware of his only option and it wasn't one he could take. He was stuck with a broken child in a basement and a body, his world in shambles around him and there was nothing left to do.
"No answer?" Ellis asked. "All right, fine. You'll have to talk sooner or later but in the mean time -- " The scientist snapped his fingers right next to Worth's ear. "Do whatever you want to Subject Thirteen. Just make sure it stays alive."
A nod from the Ahimsa guard, and then the man lifted his booted foot and slammed it into Hanna's back again, grinding down on the tattoos between the redhead's shoulder blades. Hanna shouted in pain and wriggled under the man's foot, only to yelp as the guard grabbed a handful of the youth's fiery red hair and yanked him upright only to punch him to the floor again.
Hanna let out a whimper of fear and pain, turning those dull blue eyes on Worth again, "Help me..." He begged in his soft, broken voice, "Please Worth... help me..."
Hanna's words and cries seemed so distant all of a sudden, mixing together with memories that weren't Worth's and words in his mind. The world was spinning and his stomach was churning and that didn't matter. For the moment all he could think of was the idea of Veser laughing and then rather abruptly being shot in the gut, or the way Toni would arc like a dancer even as she fell, or Conrad -- fuck, Conrad -- and, oh, he never should have sent the vampire anywhere and Worth knew that…
He knew that, and still there were Lamont's eyes, gazing up at him and seeming all the more damning in death. Your fault, Worth.
I know.
Why did you break our promise, you idiot? We promised we'd never do this shit and here we are now. This wasn't supposed to happen. You said you had a plan.
I know.
You took everything from me, you asshole. You took everything from him. How can you justify this?
I can't.
Your fault, your fault, your fault --
I know.
He knew it was his fault; could never deny that. Worth knew he was the reason Hanna was here, knew he was the reason Lamont had been so damn terrified of Vitra tower, knew he'd taken the whole damn Worth family legacy down in one fell swoop and even that had been something. He knew he swore to give it all up and he fucking lied because he never let it go, not really. You don't cross Luce Worth, and Ellis should have known that. Worth saw an opportunity to get back at Ellis and he took it, knew he saw Hanna's light for a weapon long before he ever actually saw Hanna as a person.
He knew, and he knew even if he could go back and change it, he probably wouldn't. Because if it hadn't been for Ellis, it would have been Worth in his position with all that fame and fortune and he never would have given a shit about anything. But no, he did, and the thing he'd always cared about first of all had been that damn grudge. There was the guilt, certainly, but Luce Worth did not operate on guilt, so he'd hidden it away under everything else and ignored the way those damned relationships had grown like salt nudging at the edges of a wound.
Your fault.
Lamont's words were in his mind, and oh, it was true, Worth knew it was true. He knew with each dumbass rebel Hanna took on, he just saw another opportunity. He had used them as pawns in his own personal game, because Ellis was gonna be real fuckin' sorry by the end of it all. He could say everyone had made their own choices and he could shove responsibility on them and claim that he was just following Hanna's prerogative, but of course that wasn't going to cover it up. He used them as pawns in his little war game and in the end he couldn't deny that they'd been pawns.
Except they were more than pawns, and that was a problem because now he'd lost them all and it felt like a lot more than losing some gayass chess match.
"Help me, Worth."
I can't, you idiot. I'm not superman like you, I'm just a man.
He was just a man, and suddenly Worth was aware that this was too much. This was too much and there was still the weight of the world on his shoulders, growing with each scream. It was growing heavier, becoming so much he felt he'd snap beneath it all. He wanted to talk, to make Hanna's cries stop, but oh of course he knew it'd be worse if he talked and he didn't know what to do anymore.
So he finally just let it go, because there was nothing else.
He could not save Hanna by caring, had lost the rest because he'd made the mistake of giving a shit. He'd lost it all because they'd mattered and all he had now was that familiar apathy, and if he had to choose between that and Hanna he'd have to take the former, because to save Hanna was to stop caring right now.
So Worth closed his eyes and slumped forward, let the weight of the world crush him to nothing and lock away everything else. Hanna was still crying and Ellis was still laughing and there were those sickening thuds but oh, it didn't matter. He told himself that it didn't matter, that they were nothing, letting that familiar blanket of apathy fall over him and lock it all out.
Hanna was crying and Ellis was laughing and Worth just tried to tell himself it didn't matter.
Your fault.
Oh, he knew.
---
Guarding the delivery entrance to Vitra tower was one of the worst details for any guard. But it was absolutely humiliating for an Ahimsa agent. So of course, the two on duty were a tad grumpy and would rather have been doing something else when the supply truck pulled to a stop in front of them. They shared a glance and then a sigh as they levered themselves off the wall they'd been leaning on and walked over to the truck.
"All right, what's going on?" One of the guards reached up and knocked on the driver's side door. "There were no orders coming in today." Another rap on the door. "Come on out of there and explain this."
The driver's side door opened, and a man in a delivery outfit stepped out, his hat pulled low over his head and a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He slammed the door shut behind him and squared his shoulders against the two guards, "Name's Frank," he said thickly. "What can I do for you?"
"What's with the sunglasses?" the second guard asked. "It's been cloudy all day, no sun at all."
"New fad," the driver answered, tapping the side of the sunglasses, "all over the holoscreens."
"We're not here to learn about fashion," the first guard snapped. "There weren't supposed to be any trucks coming in today. What are you doing here?"
"Mm, news musta not gotten around yet," The driver stuck his thumbs through his belt loops and drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Some doctor ordered a whole ton of stuff. Uh, Doctor Godwin Ellis or something."
"Ellis?" the first guard sounded a little surprised, if not worried, "You're sure? It was Doctor Godwin Ellis?"
"Yeah, pretty sure," the driver responded. "Said he wanted it ASAP."
"Shit," the second guard muttered. "We better get the stuff up there before he comes down here and fires us."
"Go ahead and open her up," the driver said with a grin. "She's all yours..."
The two guards stepped around the side of the truck and headed towards the back. The driver followed after them, humming to himself, and leaned against the side of the truck, watching through his dark glasses as the Ahimsa unlocked the back of the vehicle and pushed the rolling door open.
Chaos erupted out of the back of the truck. There was an explosion that knocked the Ahimsa back and a streak of blue erupted out of the back of the truck, followed by a series of wild shouts.
"Couldn't we have been quieter about this?" the former agent's voice echoed from the back of the truck as there was a final, somewhat worrying thud.
"Not a chance," Veser snorted, spinning his harpoon expertly in his hand. "Ples gets us a truck, we're gonna use it like they do in the movies. Ass-kicking awesome."
"Don't worry about it, Keanu," Hanna said, nudging aside an unconscious guard with his foot. "We'll just bust in, get Worth, and bust right back out again, no problem. And if anyone stands in our way..."
"Enough with the dramatic stuff," Lamont cut in, tossing aside the sunglasses and hat and pulling a gun from the inside of his jacket. "We need to get moving."
"Right." Toni leaped from the back of the truck, landing with ease on blue paws. "Well, let's get this going before someone sounds the alarm. Veser, could you do the honors?"
"With pleasure." The half-Selkie grinned, showing those terrifying teeth of his, and pulled a large, silver and glowing red sphere out of his pocket. He hefted it up, drew back an arm, and hurled it at the closed garage door.
The sphere struck the metal and let out an ear-splitting bang, shaking the ground with a heavy, trembling, thrum. Debris of metal and concrete shards splintered through the air, most of them bouncing harmlessly off the shield Hanna had generated, and thick, dark smoke poured from the broken doorway.
Hanna beamed, dropping his arms to his sides and let the energy vanish. "Knock, knock...anyone home?"
---
Next: Ta-da.
First: Here
Previous: Here
Title: Lightwaves
Authors: Myself and HosekiDragon
Rating: PG-13 at present
Characters: Worth, Lamont, Hanna, un!Zombie, Toni, Conrad, Veser, villain!OC of doom and lameness.
Chapters: 19/26
Description: Sprawling thousands of miles and surrounded by walls, the City of Varuna is a sight to behold. People are under constant watch and surveillance under the name of protection. The only issue now is Undesirables. Paranormal creatures, vampires and werewolves, remnants of an ancient and dying world. These creatures are expected to register with the government and are seen as second class citizens, living in oppression so as to avoid tainting the other citizens and ruining their quality of life.
"Eli" is a member of the Ahimsa, the police agency charged with dealing with Undesirables. He's beginning to feel rather disillusioned with the world he's living in. Fortunately for him, a certain redhead is about to come crashing into his life...
He really didn't want to do this.
It was quite possibly the stupidest move they could ever make -- invading Vitra Tower -- but they were doing it anyway, and Lamont supposed that was why he was so frustrated.
That, and because of the promise.
Lamont remembered it so clearly because it was one of the few times he and Worth hadn't been drunk, one of the few times he had been able to have a decent, serious talk with the doctor without it turning into a fist fight; one of the few nights Hanna had been asleep; one of the few nights they had been wide awake, burdened by shadows of the past.
It had been hard, so hard, to try and pretend everything hadn't happened, and it had been a terror to try and escape it. A terror Lamont had been more than willing to try and let go. And they had talked and it had been a discussion the likes of which they had never had again.
That was the night that they had made a promise.
Both of them had promised each other that they would never get involved with the Council, they would never invade Vitra Tower, and they would never, ever cross a line that would cause them to go back to the inner circle as less than citizens.
Yes, Worth had ruined his life; yes, had broken that promise; yes, Worth had put them all in terrible danger, and Conrad was probably traumatized for life because of what had happened to him. And, damn it all, Lamont knew how stupid this was, how ridiculous and risky this was, and he knew they could all end up dead doing it.
But here he was, going along with it, doing it anyway. He could almost hear Worth laughing and calling him a weak little pussy as he gathered up everything necessary for this ridiculously suicidal mission.
Yet, beyond all the frustration and the worry and the fear, there was one solid reason that he was going along with all this insanity.
Worth was his friend.
Worth was his friend, and he owed the man his life.
In words, it seemed like such a simple reason, but in feeling, it somehow ran much deeper.
That was why he was going along with this silly plan, and Lamont knew it. He didn't have to like what they were doing but he was going along with it because Worth had already done the same for him.
Twice.
"Lamont?" The dealer jumped, nearly dropping a handful of communicators to the floor, and looked around to see Hanna standing in the doorway to the storage room. The redhead's expression was clear but his blue eyes danced with a certain understanding; he knew why Lamont was back here, fiddling needlessly with some technology that was in perfect working order.
"Uh, eheh, yeah Hanna?" Lamont forced a casual smile, setting the communicators aside.
"It's time to go."
The dealer blinked, sighed, and then smiled -- a real smile, "All right then. Heh, guess it's time to get our resident jackass back."
Hanna's face was suddenly brightened by a beaming grin, "Yeah! Let's give those Council guys the ol' one-two in the face!" Hanna swung an arm through the air, imitating a punch, "And we can get our friend back too."
"Yeah," Lamont agreed with knowing smile, "We can get our friend back."
It was a stupid, reckless idea.
But they needed to do it anyway.
---
It had been four days.
Worth was only aware it had been four days because Ellis seemed to have a rather meticulous appreciation for time. Every few hours or so he was warbling in the blond's ear, cheerily reminding Worth just how long he'd been there. This was always accompanied by a cheery remark that there was no way his friends were coming to save him, so he may as well give up.
Except that was just fine with Worth. Let them not come, he'd fucking told them not to.
Aside from the constant annoyance of Ellis -- whom was a constant buzzing in his ear like some sort of lab coat-clad mosquito -- the days had passed by in a sort of agonizing blur. Beating after beating that had left him bruised and bleeding, creative uses of that damn metal rod and other implements leaving him mildly impressed. There'd been the removal of the knife and cuts that traced along inches of already scarred skin, areas where it had been stabbed and twisted inward like some sort of razor corkscrew. There had been injections of things that Worth hadn't even recognized that sent fire through his veins, left him thrashing in his chair and fighting back screams
After roughly a day and a half it had become clear to his captor that he really couldn't do this on his own, and so Ellis had finally gone to the professionals. In a way, Worth saw this as a victory, and it was hard not to when the frustration was so clearly expressed on Ellis' face. Of course, his captor's frustration had quickly turned to glee as the professionals had promptly taken the blond and waterboarded him, left him choking and gasping for air and laughing in a garbled sort of manner, because fuck, did they really think drowning was of any concern to him?
That was the problem, when it came down to it. Ellis and his little hired goons certainly tried to get under his skin. There had been acupuncture needles and screws jammed into his flesh; he'd been burned and choked and jammed into an airtight box that felt more like a coffin. There had been still more fists, and far too much electricity, and hours where he was simply trapped in the dark, feeling nothing and hearing nothing, thanks to combinations of serums that left him a prisoner in his own body. There had been days of abuse and mere hours of sleep between them, doctors occasionally rushing in and working just enough to patch him up or force healing pills down his throat so skin could knit together and blood could replenish. Just so it could all be repeated.
It had been four days of hell and, when it came down to it, the only thing that was really bothered him was that lovely little mess people called nicotine withdrawal. Funny that after everything else, it was the throbbing headache, tingling in his fingers and the ache in his lungs that really bothered him. Sure, breathing through a broken nose was no picnic and, after a certain point for him, pain did in fact stop being fun; however, Worth had always been the sort of person to toe the line between life and death, gladly inviting every chance to feel that crisp bite to his system to remind him that he was alive. There had been a time where each day had been an exercise in seeking these things out, where each slice from a knife or punch to the gut had been what he lived for, and even now he couldn't quite explain where it all had come from. All he can really think of is the time where he and Lamont had fought for the fifth time in a week shortly after fleeing the inner circle and he'd suddenly found his best friend shaking him violently, shouting a question he was never quite sure of the answer to.
"Do you just want to die, Worth? Is that your fucking problem!?"
At the time, Worth had just stared at him, unsure of how to reply. Now seated in the darkness of his cell with nothing but the cold clasps around his wrists and the throb of his wounds for company, it suddenly seemed impossibly funny. The blond let out a soft chuckle at the memory, the sound echoing through the darkness. Maybe that was his problem, or perhaps it was just some sort of challenge to him. How long could he last before he finally got his wish and died young, immortal in his thirties and not giving a damn about any of it?
He supposed that's what he was holding out for. He didn't expect to get out. It wasn't that he wanted to die, but he knew better than to expect otherwise. He'd orchestrated everything from behind the scenes enough, he figured, and now all he could hope was what he'd done would be enough to take that bastard down in the end. He wasn't really expecting to live.
But he'd be damned if he didn't plan to give Ellis hell to his dying breath and possibly after.
"Good morning, Worth~!" The door slid open with its usual light hiss and Ellis strode in, hands stuffed into the pockets of a very familiar coat. "You like it? It's yours." He grinned, a sneering expression that showed his teeth. "I had to wash it a couple of times to get all the stink and grime out, but the fur is a nice addition." His smile grew, mocking. "I think I look dashing in it. So what about you? How are you today? Feel more like talking?"
The blond just sort of stared at him through his one working eye, the other inflamed into an impressive black bruise that was too swollen to be seen through for the moment. Finally, he let out a snort. "Ugh, it looks stupid on you. Seriously, take it off, you're not even tall enough for it," he said as he shook his head. Inside he was fuming, because damnit: no one washed his coat.
What was really sad was that between this and the snapping of his middle finger, a part of Worth honestly wasn't sure which was the more grievous sin against him. If there was anything he regretted about this whole mess, it was this. He fucking loved that coat.
"You're just jealous because it looks better on me." Ellis smiled. "Besides, you shouldn't be so grumpy! I brought a special present for you today!"
Worth's eyebrows rose for a moment before he gave a snort. "Oh gee, you shouldn't have. Is it tha' chance to punch you in the face that I've been wantin' so Goddamn much?" He wanted a more witty reply, he really did, but even the blond's seemingly endless bag of insults was running low after days of little to no sleep and withdrawal.
Ellis' smile dropped a bit. "No, sorry to disappoint you. It's actually better than that." He drew his hands out of the pockets and held up a large syringe filled with a thick red liquid, "I had this idea especially for you. There's a book called Nineteen Eighty-Four and there's this one particular scene in it that --."
"You read?" The doctor cut in, his expression one of exaggerated surprise. "An' for that matter, I thought Nineteen Eighty-Four was banned… damn Ellis, I'm almost impressed."
"Shut up!" Ellis snarled, before composing himself and spinning the syringe in his fingers, "As I was saying, there's this one particular scene I rather liked where the main character was taken hostage and they... hm, word ...what's the word I'm looking for? Oh, reeducate him." Ellis grinned. "And my favorite bit is this thing called Room 101."
The scientist began pacing back and forth, swinging the needle in his hand, occasionally fluffing the furry color of Worth's coat, "Now Room 101 is a really horrible place. They would make you experience your worst fear, whatever it might be, and it doesn't really matter who you were because that would make anyone crack." Ellis clasped his hands behind his back but continued to pace, looking for all the world like a teacher speaking to a class of youngsters. "In the book, the main character's greatest fear was rats. So they threatened to take a cage of rats and attach it to his face so they'd eat out his eyes."
Ellis laughed, finally stopping his pacing in front of Worth with that stupid, wide grin on his face. "But see, you're already pretty rat-like -- stinking rodent that you are -- so it wouldn't work like that for you. Still, the idea is nice." He lifted the syringe up, letting the crimson stuff on the inside catch the light. "This serum has a similar effect. I'm pretty sure you remember it from Subject Thirteen, don't you?" He tested the plunger, sending a fine spray of red into the air. "What's wrong, Worthy? Cat got your tongue? Don't you have something to say? Some witty comeback? Anything?"
The blond considered his captor's words for a moment, grimacing slightly. Not because of the serum, because no, that didn't worry him. Mostly it was the memory of those wide blue eyes, staring sightlessly into nothing as his mouth paid lip service to everything, as that crimson poison tore through his mind and left him crying and pleading for people who no longer existed.
After a moment Worth let out a breath, forcing himself back into the present. There was no sense in worrying about that, the past was past and he had a far more aggravating future staring him in the face. He gave the best shrug he could manage. "Sorry Ellis, if you're looking for a reaction you're not gonna get it. You should know by now, I ain't scared of anything." He cocked his head to the side and grinned, ignoring the splinters of pain from the motion. "Besides, ain't that stuff illegal? Seeing how it has a seventy percent chance of fuckin' destroying my mind, and you aren't getting shit if that happens."
"Oh, please," Ellis scoffed, stepping closer. "If Subject Thirteen could live through it, then you'll be more then fine. I just can't wait to see you reduced to a sniveling pile of hysterics." With that, the scientist leaned down and slid the needle into Worth's arm, pressing down on the plunger and sending the red liquid in to do its dirty work.
His prisoner didn't even react as the needle bit into his skin, save for glaring up at Ellis. As soon as the needle was removed, the doctor let out a sigh as he turned to stare at the wall. "Right, well, this'd better be interestin'. If all I get is a bad trip, 'm gonna be disappointed," he muttered, settling in his chair as if he were preparing to watch an incredibly dull movie.
"With a mind like yours, I expect quite the spectacle." Ellis said cheerfully, dragging a cart across the floor to stand behind Worth's chair, "I haven't had lunch yet...maybe I'll get dinner and a show!" The scientist began humming to himself as he unrolled a line of wires and began sticking pads to Worth's head, securing them to his temples and forehead, "Remember this thing, Worth? I get see exactly what you're seeing! Isn't that exciting?"
"Fantastic," Worth said dryly as he rolled his eyes, jerking his head away on reflex from one of the pads so he could flash disgusting teeth in Ellis' direction. "It's so good t' know Varuna's tax dollars are going to the important shit in life."
The scientist behind him huffed as he booted up the machine and dragged a chair over, "This is important and you know it. Now just sit back and relax, all right? The show's about to start." There was a horrible smile in Ellis' voice when he spoke.
He received a low sigh in response, the doctor wincing as a low throbbing pain returned to his skull. "Ugh. Well, look, aside from my fuckin' head and feelin' a bit dizzy, I'm not getting any visions of spectral horror, so maybe you oughta --"
He was cut off by the door hissing open and a couple of familiar figures were shoved into the room, followed by a couple of the Ahimsa guards. They were beaten and bruised, hands cuffed behind their backs, stumbling as though the floor was tilting beneath them. Hanna and Lamont fell to their knees on the metal floor with heavy thuds and grunts of pain, the guards behind them standing close by, those electrical sticks held in close vicinity to their captives.
The blond's eyes widened as he took in the sight of them, breath catching in his throat. "…What?"
"Oh. Well that's interesting..." The scientist behind him murmured. "Anyway, I brought some friends in to see you, Worth," Ellis said mildly, "I thought maybe they could help to loosen your tongue..."
Hanna was staring up at Worth with those wide, terrified blue eyes, a confusing mixture of betrayal, pain, and fear playing across his face. There were bruises all across his thin frame, he was wearing nothing but a pair of dirty shorts, his scarred chest exposed and covered in swollen needle points and cuts. The edges of that horrid scar were an awful, inflamed, irritated red. He didn't say anything, his face a pale as he gazed at Worth, pleading for help.
Lamont, on the other hand, was not so quiet, "Hey Worth... enjoyin' the view, you stupid fuck? I told you not to come. Now look what happened..." The dealer was definitely the worse for wear, even as he flashed a grim smile. Dried blood was caked across his face, nearly masking the horrible bruises there, deep and barely healed cuts traced his burly arms, his shirt was nearly in shreds, and his breathing was shallow and labored.
The doctor was silent for a moment, yellowed teeth clenched, eyes wide and body completely rigid as he took in the sight of them. There was something so horribly familiar about these images, reminiscent of flashes of Lamont in prison from years earlier and those bright eyes gazing up at him from a work table. After a moment, however, he shook his head violently, grimacing at the agony that laced through his skull from the motion. "No. No, they're not fucking here," he tried to angle himself so he could face Ellis, and was irritated to find he couldn't. In spite of this, he smirked. "Nice try bastard, but I know better. If you really had them, you'd have brought 'em in before now. This is the drug. Don't fuck with me, dumbass, I'm smarter than that."
"Worth..." Hanna's voice was a whimper of fear and desperation, "Worth, I'm sorry...I...we were just trying to save you a-and..."
"We caught them," Ellis giggled childishly, speaking as if both Hanna and Worth hadn't spoken. "Oooh, it was so easy, really. We followed your friend back to your little hidy-hole and raided it. Easy as pie. It was wonderful."
"Worth," Hanna's pleading voice again, "Worth, they killed Rogerio... they shot him...!" A tremor crept into the redhead's voice, "He's dead..."
"Dead as a doornail," Ellis added helpfully and Hanna whimpered pitifully.
"Don't listen to him, Hanna," Lamont grunted. "Heh, we'll pay them back..." That confident edge to his voice dropped a little as he looked up at Worth and added, "Somehow."
The blond felt his stomach give a violent twist at these words, and he wasn't sure if it was the drug or the idea of it all that was causing that reaction. Again, he shook his head and was frustrated to find this only made his growing dizzyness worse. "You're lying," He said again, a tenseness in his hands sending splinters of pain through his broken fingers and the gaping wound in his palm. "This is the drug. Don't fuck with me Ellis, you didn't find them. You couldn't have found them."
"Didn't I?" Ellis snorted. "Look at the faces of your friends and tell me that. Or, better yet, ask them how the rest of your rebel trash died."
"If it's any, aheh, any consolation," Lamont said thickly, "Toni and Veser kept fighting the whole time. Veser was cussing them out like a whirlwind -- you would have been proud." A smirk traced the dealer's bruised face. "Haha, and Toni... she was something else. Right Hanna...?"
"Yeah..." That dejected, hurt, lost tone in Hanna's voice was almost painful to listen to. His eyes were still locked on Worth's, begging for help, alone and wounded, "Yeah, sh-she kept fighting..." He let out another one of those pathetic whimpering noises. "Connie didn't get to fight at all, though..."
"No..." Lamont's voice dropped into a hoarse, dark tone, "No, he didn't." His dark eyes flickered up to meet Worth's gaze, "You sent him out into the field when he wasn't ready and he came back, he came back scared out of his fucking mind. Traumatized." The dealer shook his head, looking genuinely upset. "When the Ahimsa attacked he... he never stood a chance."
"He screamed," Hanna murmured and for an instant, his eyes closed as though he was fighting off tears. Then they were open again, horrified, wide. "K-kept screaming... cursing you... hating you... hating you for what happened to him..."
Worth grit his teeth, tried not to consider the sinking in his chest as if everything was falling out from beneath him. Because no, this could not be true. It was too practiced, too rehearsed, as if Hanna and Lamont were reading a script from his own mind. It had to be the serum coursing through his veins, picking through his brain, but of course that made no sense because he wasn't scared of anything and cared for no one, so this shouldn't have been happening. It should have been rats gnawing at his flesh, should have been bugs swarming his eyes, something ridiculous and stupid and corporeal that he could handle.
What he couldn't take were those eyes, wide and pleading and hurt as if this whole mess were his fault. What he couldn't take were Lamont's words and fuck, of course he knew the dealer is right because Conrad hadn't ready for this. Worth had thought he had been ready but of course the vampire wasn't and Goddamnit no. No, that was not true, because Worth had seen the set of the former graphic designer's shoulders, had seen that determination in his eyes and damnit this was not his fault because if it hadn't been for Hanna, the little spy mission would have been fine…
This was not his fault. This was not true.
But Worth could see it all in his mind's eye as clearly as if he'd been there. He could see Veser going down in a haze of gunfire and cursing, green-eyed and young and too fucking reckless for his own good. He could see Toni leaping through their destroyed factory, could see the silver bullet that finally took her down and sent her tumbling to the floor, beautiful and somehow artistic even in death. He could see Hanna's partner shoving the redhead aside in a desperate attempt to shield him, a show of pointless heroics for a fight he'd never fully understood. He could see Conrad curled in a ball on the floor, screaming and crying like a child, those eyes wide and starved and demanding to know why this was happening.
Why, Worth? Why did you send him out there?
The doctor didn't have an answer, so all he could do was shake his head again. "Liar," he murmured as he squeezed his eyes shut, though his voice was weaker this time, more distant. The images were coming too quickly to fight now and everything was spinning, he was having trouble remembering anything but the scene before him. But still he clung to that word, stubbornly, a lifeline in the abyss.
This could not be true. It could not be. Worth wouldn't let it be true.
"Worth..." Hanna's voice moaned, shaking, begging, pathetically weak. "W-we're not lying...why won't you look at me? Worth…W-Worth…!"
"Easy, Hanna," Lamont muttered.
"Uh-oh," Ellis' tone was mocking, almost laughing. "Look at that, you made Subject Thirteen cry. I didn't realize it had the ability to do that; probably just crocodile tears, hm?"
"You bastard," Lamont's voice grumbled. "You broke our promise." There was a shivering, gulping sob from Hanna. "And you made the kid cry, way to go."
"Now, now, Worth," Ellis was obviously enjoying himself, "don't be so cruel." There was a creak as the scientist shifted in his seat, "All I want is the information. Tell me what you did to Subject Thirteen and nobody else has to get hurt."
Worth shook his head and threw himself back against his seat, kicked those bruises and burns on his sides back to life in an attempt to drive away the splinters of nightmare in his head. Hanna did not cry like this, Lamont didn't say things like this. It didn't fit, it could not be real. Just tune it out, they aren't there, this isn't real and it shouldn't matter because you don't care anyway...
"Worth!" Hanna shouted, "Please!"
"Someone shut it up..." Ellis murmured in a bored sort of voice, "I'm trying to think, here."
There was a shuffle and then a heavy thwack that cracked the air. Hanna let out a cry of pain and there was a thud. Lamont shouted a loud curse and then there was another sound of something heavy hitting flesh.
The blond actually flinched at this. "Leave them alone. They're not real, this is stupid…" He ground out. He knew this was not real, he was trying so desperately to cling to the idea, but the sound of those cries were like weights on his shoulders, dragging him down and grinding into his broken fingers like someone stomping on them, chipping at his grip on reality.
"Worth, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" Lamont was shouting at him. "We're right here! Open your Goddamn eyes! What, you just don't want to admit that it's your fault!?" There was another strike and the dealer grunted in pain. "You stupid shit! Is this so hard to believe!? We're right here! Look at us! Look at Hanna! This is your doing! Your fault!"
The words hit the blond like a sledgehammer, had him physically cringing as he tried to throw them off. He could desperately cling to denial, could try to ignore the way reality seemed to be slipping through his fingers like water. He could remind himself that Hanna and Lamont were so much stronger than this, that they were all so much stronger than this. He had denial after denial for everything else but Worth did not lie to himself and he wasn't sure he could deny those words.
Except this wasn't happening. This wasn't happening, and Worth had to try to remind himself of that. He had to hold on to that because this was not his fault, could not be his fault and damn it, it shouldn't have mattered because for the doctor responsibility was normally something that slid off of him like water.
"I d-don't wanna be here...!" Hanna was crying, his voice sputtering with tears and undiluted terror. "Please, Worth, you know what they'll do to us! Wh-what they'll do to me! Don't leave me here! Worth!" And then he shouted in pain as he was struck again.
This was too familiar. It was a knife in his brain that picked at memories of screams in a too small lab. It was too familiar and Lamont laying there beaten and bruised was too familiar and it was kicking at that voice in his brain, the one that he usually ignored that remembered these things all too clearly and had made that damn promise to Lamont without batting an eye.
We won't go there, 'Mont, promise. We're fuckin' smarter than that. You and Hanna will be safe. This will not happen again. Never again.
"Wow, Worth, I guess I pegged you wrong," Ellis said as the sounds of Hanna and Lamont shouting and being beaten continued. "See, I thought you actually cared about your friends but you're just sitting there, letting them get pummeled. If you keep letting that go on, one of them might... break."
Those words made him want to snap back, made anger twist in his gut like a flame. Because no, that was not true. Hanna and Lamont were stronger than that, they would not break for a bastard like Ellis. They were stronger than that, they had to be stronger than that, he would not have sent Hanna off to do the things he did if the redhead hadn't been able to take care of himself. He would not have stepped back and used them all in his stupid game if he hadn't been sure they couldn't handle it, he wasn't stupid. They were stronger than that and they'd chosen this fight and damnit it was not his fault if they'd all made their own decisions.
"L-look at me, Worth!" Lamont shouted angrily. "You fucking coward! Running away from what you've done! Coward!"
And Hanna was just screaming his name, begging for help as he was struck again and again, pleading to be let go, that he would rather be anywhere but here, that he didn't want to go through everything again, and that they had to get out, and everyone was dead because of them.
Worth was left cringing against it, fighting against the swirls and twinges and the sheer jumbled mess that was becoming his thoughts. He wanted so badly to believe this wasn't happening, but those cries were making it so damn hard. This was the first time the idea of confessing had even crossed his mind. Before it had been all about getting a rise from Ellis, competing in his own personal hell to see just how long this shit would take. Now it was about something else and as much as he wanted to fight against it, the idea of any of them dying for him is almost incomprehensible. It is incomprehensible but here it is and damnit, this isn't real.
Suddenly Worth felt as if he were made from nothing but anger, and he wasn't sure if it was anger directed at Ellis or the two in front of him or the damn drug in his system but fuck, all he wanted to do is punch someone's face in. He was shuddering in his chair as he struggled to rise and somehow move, felt that twinge in his broken fingers and struggled to grasp onto that pain like some sort of life line.
This was not real. This could not be real. He had to focus on that and the rage in his system, had to --
"I forgot how annoying Subject Thirteen could be when it opens its mouth." Ellis scoffed, "But your friend is doing a pretty decent job of pissing me off too. Maybe we should shut him up permanently? What do you think, Worth? Would that be enough to make you talk? Should I do it? I could, you know, all it would take was a single word..."
These words made Worth's eyes shoot open, pupils dark and frantic as they fell upon Lamont and Hanna. He sat there for a moment and tried to force his body to relax, force his chest out of the death grip it had taken on his heart and lungs. Those wide eyes met Lamont's, and Worth was completely frozen, because he had no idea how to even react.
"A bullet to the brain, Worth," Ellis said and there was a smile in his voice. "Click. Bang. And that's the end of it. You want to see if I won't do it?" The guard behind Lamont reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. "Tell me what I want to hear, Worth, and no one has to die today. All you have to do is talk."
He wasn't sure how to respond, words suddenly caught in his throat, jumbled and fighting and leaving an unsure mess as to what to come out. There were curses against Ellis and curses against Lamont and Hanna and the whole fucking world, curses against those damn kids back at a factory that burned, curses and screams that this was not his fault, none of it was his fucking fault and some sort of plea that he hadn't known could even come from him. There's the plea that he hates because damn it all he and 'Mont were not known for sympathy or friendly bullshit but he needs it now and there are those words in this throat, heaviest and worst of all, terms that can save his best friend and damn a kid who means so much to him in an instant.
He was suddenly cripplingly aware that he could not save both and he just didn't know what to do.
"Don't tell them anything!" Lamont shouted, voice rising an octave in something that was almost panic, "Whatever happens, don't tell them anything! At least keep that promise, Worth! At least keep that one!" The dealer's eyes narrowed. "And just remember that I wouldn't be here if you didn't break the first one..."
"Shut up, you fucking moron," Worth wasn't sure where the words were coming from -- as if he were speaking in tongues -- but he knew they were his because his voice was hoarse as fuck. He knew those words were his and, Goddamnit 'Mont, don't give them a reason, this is so fucking stupid. This whole thing was as stupid as the idea that he'd let it all happen in the first place, like the idea that Lamont had even been caught years ago and, yeah, Worth was aware it was him that put the dealer there at all. It was his fault, and that was why they'd made that damn promise and, fuck it 'Mont, you know I don't keep promises, why are you looking at me like that?
But he'd made that damn promise to stop this from happening, and damnit, Worth knew, and he remembered, and they'd both sworn to keep Hanna safe. They had sworn that but it seemed so impossible in this situation. So aall the doctor could do was shake his head and he hates that that's all he has, as if he's stuck on repeat. In spite of this his mouth continues, unbidden, speaking for him, full of rage and disbelief. "Don't… Ellis, don't you fucking dare…"
"What's that?" Ellis asked childishly, "Didn't quite hear you, Worthy? Were you about to tell me what you did to Subject Thirteen? Or do I have to shoot someone?"
At that point, Hanna let out a wordless, pained cry, tears streaming from his eyes. "Don't!" His voice was shaking, cracked, desperate, a broken, lost sound that didn't sound like Hanna at all, "Please... don't kill him! Don't kill anyone! No more killing..." He shook his head, thin, ruined chest heaving with sobs. "No more killing!"
Worth heard those words and he wanted so badly to say something. Normally Hanna's pleading was nothing to him, but this was so different from usual and he wasn't sure what to do. Normally, it was Worth's job to put Hanna back together so, of course, that was all he wanted. He wanted to take Hanna and fix all those stupid wounds and promise that no, no one was going to die and shake the damn kid if he kept crying, wanted to lie and tell him it was fine and everyone was okay and anything, anything if it would make Hanna stop.
But of course he couldn't do that, and Worth was well aware of that as he sat under those hot lights. He sat under those lights, long body bent forward as if it were trapped under the weight of the world, and rather suddenly he was raising his eyes to meet Lamont's. Because no, Worth couldn't say anything and he knew it. He could not give Hanna up because he promised, he could not give Hanna up because he knew things would be so much worse if he did. He wanted to lie and tell the redhead everything was going to be okay, but of course it wasn't.
His decision had already been made years ago, and he hoped that would be conveyed somehow in his face as he met Lamont's gaze. He looked into the eyes of a dead man and of course he knew he couldn't say anything, because it didn't mean anything, not when he'd left Lamont kneeling on the floor like that.
He had just damned his best friend and they both knew it.
Ellis took this struggling silence as an answer.
"I can't believe you. I mean, I knew you were an asshole but this --" the scientist let out a sickening snort of laughter -- "this is almost too much." He laughed again and then sighed, "Well, all right then, have it your way. You've made your choice then, no backsies." A creak from the chair, Ellis' voice right by Worth's ear, a sniggering command, breath still stinking of coffee: "Mr. Toucey is no longer of any use. Shoot him."
Hanna let out another scream, sparks flying from his bracers, thrashing in his bonds. His words were a jumbled mess, incoherent cries for mercy, to stop, to let them go, to stop the killing. The Ahimsa guard behind him slammed his foot into the redhead's back and pinned Hanna to the floor. Hanna twisted, sniveling, begging crying.
The guard with his gun drawn, lowered it, aiming at Lamont's skull but the dealer jerked away, trying to stay out of reach. The guard grabbed the back of Lamont's shirt, hauling him back, and pressed the gun barrel into Lamont's black hair.
"No! Stop! Please!" Hanna cried, "Worth, make them stop! Don't kill him! Please! Don't kill him!"
"Remember your promise, Worth!" Lamont shouted as the sound of the gun charging got louder, a buzzing hum against Hanna's shrieking. "Remember that!" The dealer's voice dropped suddenly: "And take care of Hanna. Don't let them get him. Don't let them use him like you used us for your fucking games..."
"Enough," Ellis snorted. "Kill him already."
"NO!" A final scream from Hanna, and then the crack of a gunshot.
There was a dull, empty sort of thud as Lamont's body hit the floor, limp, lifeless.
Dead.
Hanna choked, staring with wide, shocked blue eyes that still ran with tears. He didn't make a sound, just stared, first at Lamont's body and then, slowly, he looked to Worth.
And there was blame in those eyes.
Without a word, he was pinning it all on Worth. All the trauma, all the fighting, all the hatred, all the pain, all the death; he was throwing it on Worth's shoulders, blaming him for everything that had happened. Accusing, hurt, angry, and wondering why.
Why, Worth, why? Why did you let this happen? Why did you let them do this to me? Why did you let them hurt me? Why did you let them hurt my friends? Why did you let them all die?
The doctor was completely silent, dark eyes wide, unable to breathe as he gazed down at the blood splatters on the floor. He had not looked away, could not have looked away, because of course he owed it to his best friend to at least fucking watch the execution he'd essentially ordered. He had not looked away and now he couldn't. His entire body was suddenly felt numb, his chest hollow, his mind spinning and damn it all there was still some pathetic word in his mind, something about a drug and how this wasn't real but in the face of Lamont's body it was suddenly nothing. Those words meant nothing and there was his best friend, dead on the floor, dead and damn it all he had promised this wouldn't happen.
Worth shook his head, tried to swallow the burn in his throat, let it settle onto his shoulders like everything else. You made the decision Worth, fucking deal. Men don't cry or react to this bullshit and of course Lamont would not have wanted him to crumble, not really, but it was hard with the sudden stabbing agony in his chest and the burning in his throat. The blond gulped, trying to clear it, and suddenly he felt cripplingly aware of just how long it had been since he'd had a good drink or a cigarette and that was all he wanted. Just drown in alcohol and cigarettes and let it all slide away, latch onto that familiar persona that didn't give a shit and bury it all beneath substance abuse.
But of course there was no numbing this, nothing to be done to put it all away, and the kid was watching him, blaming him, and damn it all.
So he leaned forward, face in shadow as he struggled to get some form of breath in his lungs. When he finally managed it, it was like breathing in fire, that single breath catching everything aflame. Rather suddenly that crushing weight was transferred to something different, something dark and awful that flowed through his veins like liquid steel.
"…You fucking bastard…" The words came out in a whisper, barely audible.
"Ooohh, haven't heard that one before," Ellis said in a sarcastic voice. "Are you ready to talk yet, Worth? Ready to tell us what you did? Your friend died because you wouldn't say anything. Is that really what you want? Just talk. That's all I want."
"You had no right…." Worth shook his head again, barely even noticing the way the room spun. "You Goddamn ass!" With those words, he suddenly exploded in his chair, jerking backwards in a desperate attempt to loosen his restraints. In the past four days he hadn't tried, but this was different, so very different. It didn't matter that he was so beat up he could barely move; it didn't matter that the room was filled with armed guards; it didn't matter that he was well aware that the restraints could hold a vampire at full strength. In that moment, all he wanted was to be loose and tear Ellis limb from limb.
"You had no fucking right!" the blond roared as he thrashed, trying desperately to just move enough to get the bastard in his sights. "Why the fuck did you do that!? He didn't do anything to you! They were worth more alive than dead, you Goddamn moron! This was between you and me, Ellis! You and me!"
"It certainly was," Ellis replied cheekily. "And it still is. You're the one who dragged everyone else into this. You're the one who decided to stay safe in your rundown castle while you sent your pawns out to play. You're the one who got them killed, Worth. You did that! Look at Subject Thirteen! Look at him and tell him it's not your fault! Go on! Do it! I dare you!"
This drew an enraged snarl from Worth, the doctor throwing himself backwards in an attempt to somehow lash out at his rival, even if it just involved bashing both of their heads in. "It's not!" He snapped. "I don't give a shit, it wasn't my fucking responsibility! I tried to fucking stop, it was you who kept going, it was you who wouldn't leave it alone! They fucking made their decisions! Don't you dare pin this on me, you idea-stealing bastard!"
Ellis let out peal of laughter. "Your idea!? Unless I'm very much mistaken, the records state that that idea was mine! And if you don't start talking the results of my idea are going to get hurt!"
As if to demonstrate, the Ahimsa guard pinning Hanna to the floor drove the tip of the electric stick into the back of the redhead's neck. Hanna screamed and bucked as the electricity flowed through him, tears still streaming from his eyes, the tattoos on his body flickering with each wave of pain that lanced through him.
Again the blond thrashed, hands clenching into fists, splinters of agony from his broken fingers only seeming to add fuel to the fire. "Leave him alone! He isn't yours, you asshole, and if you don't fucking stop --"
"You'll what!?" Ellis cut in. "Curse at me? Ha! Look, maybe Subject Thirteen really was yours to begin with, but -- oh wwaaiiiittt...! You know that means this really is your fault, right? Because it belonged to you first? It is your fault."
Somehow, these words proved to be the breaking point. Perhaps it was the acknowledgement that Worth couldn't do anything, the horrible reminder of those clamps on his wrists and ankles that held him back. Perhaps it was those words, echoing Lamont's nearly word for word, joining the man's legacy in his skull and branding themselves there, tugging at memories of deaths he hadn't seen. Whatever it was, the words suddenly had the doctor slumping in his chair, teeth grinding together as he tried so damn hard to fight against something he knew he could never deny, not fully.
"Worth..." Hanna whimpered, still on the floor though he was no longer pinned there by the guard, "Worth... why...? Why did you let this happen...? Why did you let them all die?" Those blue eyes stared up at him, pleading, begging, wondering, lost. "Why did you let this happen to me?"
"Oh, that's easy to answer," the scientist behind Worth said with a smile in his voice. "It's because he doesn't care about you."
Hanna's eyes widened, tears trickling down his cheeks, and he stared at Worth, begging for the doctor to tell him it was a lie, to tell him that what Ellis said was nothing but empty words, that Worth really did care.
Those eyes met Worth's dark gaze and the doctor still didn't know what to say. Because as much as he wanted to deny it, fuck, of course he cared. He'd started caring the moment he saw those Goddamn eyes and he wanted to deny it-- but of course he couldn't, not anymore. Hanna had wormed his way into his life and made himself everything, made himself all that mattered. But of course he couldn't say it because fuck, Hanna, you know I don't do that, and if I say anything you know what fucking happens…
"Hanna…" Again his lips were moving against his will, and the doctor shook his head. Because in that moment all he wanted to do was reach out and reassure the kid, to drop empty promises and somehow push Lamont's body away, find some impossible way to make it all work, but he can't. He can't because he and Ellis both know this damn kid was the one who had started and ended Worth's world, was the reason for everything, and if Worth vocalized that he would ruin it all.
Admit you care for something, and it will be taken away. Welcome to Varuna.
"Worth...?" Small, pleading, so very un-Hanna-like that it was almost painful.
"Look, I'll make a deal with you," Ellis said in a low voice. "You tell me what you did, and I won't have to hurt it anymore. Because you know that every time we hit Subject Thirteen, every strike, it will blame you."
Worth shook his head again, and damn that gesture for being all he had. He wanted to have something else, anything else to make this better. He wanted to be able to reach out and stop this, but he was aware of his only option and it wasn't one he could take. He was stuck with a broken child in a basement and a body, his world in shambles around him and there was nothing left to do.
"No answer?" Ellis asked. "All right, fine. You'll have to talk sooner or later but in the mean time -- " The scientist snapped his fingers right next to Worth's ear. "Do whatever you want to Subject Thirteen. Just make sure it stays alive."
A nod from the Ahimsa guard, and then the man lifted his booted foot and slammed it into Hanna's back again, grinding down on the tattoos between the redhead's shoulder blades. Hanna shouted in pain and wriggled under the man's foot, only to yelp as the guard grabbed a handful of the youth's fiery red hair and yanked him upright only to punch him to the floor again.
Hanna let out a whimper of fear and pain, turning those dull blue eyes on Worth again, "Help me..." He begged in his soft, broken voice, "Please Worth... help me..."
Hanna's words and cries seemed so distant all of a sudden, mixing together with memories that weren't Worth's and words in his mind. The world was spinning and his stomach was churning and that didn't matter. For the moment all he could think of was the idea of Veser laughing and then rather abruptly being shot in the gut, or the way Toni would arc like a dancer even as she fell, or Conrad -- fuck, Conrad -- and, oh, he never should have sent the vampire anywhere and Worth knew that…
He knew that, and still there were Lamont's eyes, gazing up at him and seeming all the more damning in death. Your fault, Worth.
I know.
Why did you break our promise, you idiot? We promised we'd never do this shit and here we are now. This wasn't supposed to happen. You said you had a plan.
I know.
You took everything from me, you asshole. You took everything from him. How can you justify this?
I can't.
Your fault, your fault, your fault --
I know.
He knew it was his fault; could never deny that. Worth knew he was the reason Hanna was here, knew he was the reason Lamont had been so damn terrified of Vitra tower, knew he'd taken the whole damn Worth family legacy down in one fell swoop and even that had been something. He knew he swore to give it all up and he fucking lied because he never let it go, not really. You don't cross Luce Worth, and Ellis should have known that. Worth saw an opportunity to get back at Ellis and he took it, knew he saw Hanna's light for a weapon long before he ever actually saw Hanna as a person.
He knew, and he knew even if he could go back and change it, he probably wouldn't. Because if it hadn't been for Ellis, it would have been Worth in his position with all that fame and fortune and he never would have given a shit about anything. But no, he did, and the thing he'd always cared about first of all had been that damn grudge. There was the guilt, certainly, but Luce Worth did not operate on guilt, so he'd hidden it away under everything else and ignored the way those damned relationships had grown like salt nudging at the edges of a wound.
Your fault.
Lamont's words were in his mind, and oh, it was true, Worth knew it was true. He knew with each dumbass rebel Hanna took on, he just saw another opportunity. He had used them as pawns in his own personal game, because Ellis was gonna be real fuckin' sorry by the end of it all. He could say everyone had made their own choices and he could shove responsibility on them and claim that he was just following Hanna's prerogative, but of course that wasn't going to cover it up. He used them as pawns in his little war game and in the end he couldn't deny that they'd been pawns.
Except they were more than pawns, and that was a problem because now he'd lost them all and it felt like a lot more than losing some gayass chess match.
"Help me, Worth."
I can't, you idiot. I'm not superman like you, I'm just a man.
He was just a man, and suddenly Worth was aware that this was too much. This was too much and there was still the weight of the world on his shoulders, growing with each scream. It was growing heavier, becoming so much he felt he'd snap beneath it all. He wanted to talk, to make Hanna's cries stop, but oh of course he knew it'd be worse if he talked and he didn't know what to do anymore.
So he finally just let it go, because there was nothing else.
He could not save Hanna by caring, had lost the rest because he'd made the mistake of giving a shit. He'd lost it all because they'd mattered and all he had now was that familiar apathy, and if he had to choose between that and Hanna he'd have to take the former, because to save Hanna was to stop caring right now.
So Worth closed his eyes and slumped forward, let the weight of the world crush him to nothing and lock away everything else. Hanna was still crying and Ellis was still laughing and there were those sickening thuds but oh, it didn't matter. He told himself that it didn't matter, that they were nothing, letting that familiar blanket of apathy fall over him and lock it all out.
Hanna was crying and Ellis was laughing and Worth just tried to tell himself it didn't matter.
Your fault.
Oh, he knew.
---
Guarding the delivery entrance to Vitra tower was one of the worst details for any guard. But it was absolutely humiliating for an Ahimsa agent. So of course, the two on duty were a tad grumpy and would rather have been doing something else when the supply truck pulled to a stop in front of them. They shared a glance and then a sigh as they levered themselves off the wall they'd been leaning on and walked over to the truck.
"All right, what's going on?" One of the guards reached up and knocked on the driver's side door. "There were no orders coming in today." Another rap on the door. "Come on out of there and explain this."
The driver's side door opened, and a man in a delivery outfit stepped out, his hat pulled low over his head and a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He slammed the door shut behind him and squared his shoulders against the two guards, "Name's Frank," he said thickly. "What can I do for you?"
"What's with the sunglasses?" the second guard asked. "It's been cloudy all day, no sun at all."
"New fad," the driver answered, tapping the side of the sunglasses, "all over the holoscreens."
"We're not here to learn about fashion," the first guard snapped. "There weren't supposed to be any trucks coming in today. What are you doing here?"
"Mm, news musta not gotten around yet," The driver stuck his thumbs through his belt loops and drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Some doctor ordered a whole ton of stuff. Uh, Doctor Godwin Ellis or something."
"Ellis?" the first guard sounded a little surprised, if not worried, "You're sure? It was Doctor Godwin Ellis?"
"Yeah, pretty sure," the driver responded. "Said he wanted it ASAP."
"Shit," the second guard muttered. "We better get the stuff up there before he comes down here and fires us."
"Go ahead and open her up," the driver said with a grin. "She's all yours..."
The two guards stepped around the side of the truck and headed towards the back. The driver followed after them, humming to himself, and leaned against the side of the truck, watching through his dark glasses as the Ahimsa unlocked the back of the vehicle and pushed the rolling door open.
Chaos erupted out of the back of the truck. There was an explosion that knocked the Ahimsa back and a streak of blue erupted out of the back of the truck, followed by a series of wild shouts.
"Couldn't we have been quieter about this?" the former agent's voice echoed from the back of the truck as there was a final, somewhat worrying thud.
"Not a chance," Veser snorted, spinning his harpoon expertly in his hand. "Ples gets us a truck, we're gonna use it like they do in the movies. Ass-kicking awesome."
"Don't worry about it, Keanu," Hanna said, nudging aside an unconscious guard with his foot. "We'll just bust in, get Worth, and bust right back out again, no problem. And if anyone stands in our way..."
"Enough with the dramatic stuff," Lamont cut in, tossing aside the sunglasses and hat and pulling a gun from the inside of his jacket. "We need to get moving."
"Right." Toni leaped from the back of the truck, landing with ease on blue paws. "Well, let's get this going before someone sounds the alarm. Veser, could you do the honors?"
"With pleasure." The half-Selkie grinned, showing those terrifying teeth of his, and pulled a large, silver and glowing red sphere out of his pocket. He hefted it up, drew back an arm, and hurled it at the closed garage door.
The sphere struck the metal and let out an ear-splitting bang, shaking the ground with a heavy, trembling, thrum. Debris of metal and concrete shards splintered through the air, most of them bouncing harmlessly off the shield Hanna had generated, and thick, dark smoke poured from the broken doorway.
Hanna beamed, dropping his arms to his sides and let the energy vanish. "Knock, knock...anyone home?"
---
Next: Ta-da.