Peanut Butter Week (Earth)
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy universe, Post NIEE
Challenges: Peanut Butter 4 (earth), Papaya 24 (what’s the catch?), Pomegranate 12 (nervous breakdown)
Toppings & Extras: Hot Fudge, Caramel
Word Count: 863
Rating: PG
Summary: It won’t be too long now.
Notes: PB Week 4. Relates to the other Victor and Mal pieces but can be read separately.
For some reason the beans weren’t growing. Victor found out through the grapevine early one more, a few weeks after planting. He debated doing nothing but decided he couldn’t resist an opportunity to get under Malcolm Rees’ skin for any reason so he made an unscheduled visit to the outside pen.
He swept through the gate and down the slight hill the field was built into, heading for the beans, Ralphie and Whalen flanking him. What he saw as he approached gave him pause. A group of the prisoners were gathered around a single crouched man, who held his hands cupped out in front of him.
“Break them up,” Victor ordered in an undertone and Ralphie and Whalen sprang forward.
“Get back to work!” Ralphie snapped, hitting one of them across the back with his cudgel. He went to strike again when they were slow to scatter but the crouching man was up and grabbed his arm.
“Don’t hit my men.”
Victor grinned, somehow unsurprised to realize it was Malcolm.
“Fine,” Ralphie said and sucker punched him in the stomach.
It was a testament to both Malcolm’s spirit and all that Victor had put them through when, instead of letting go of the arm, Malcolm twisted it sharply and snatched the cudgel, throwing it to the ground. “Are you too stupid to realize this is important?” he managed between gasps for breath.
“How so?” Victor asked.
No one had noticed his approach. Malcolm now took an involuntary step back while the others, besides Malcolm’s shadow, Riley Marks, finally scattered. The young captain shrugged, not meeting Victor’s eye, focusing on a point somewhere past his left shoulder. “The soil’s got nothing left. All the nutrients are gone. You’ve been farming it too long.”
“Everything else is growing fine.”
“Yeah, maybe for this season, but by next, it’s doubtful anything but the hardiest plants’ll grow.”
Victor studied him for a moment, freshly surprised. “You grew up on a farm?” he asked.
“Until the day I joined the army,” Malcolm said, more than a trace of bitterness coloring his tone.
He glanced down at the plants and then back up at the two prisoners. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing then that you probably won’t make it another year, isn’t it?” he said pleasantly.
Riley hunched his shoulders more as Malcolm looked away, both shuddering almost in concert. “Suppose so,” Malcolm muttered, obviously knowing Victor would want an answer.
Victor smiled. In some ways, he trained Malcolm well in the previous year while in others the young captain resisted with every fiber of his being. “Malcolm, let’s take a walk,” he said, catching Ralphie’s eye and gesturing towards Riley.
The two guards grinned and, as soon as Victor had clamped a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, steering him down along the fence, they went after Riley. With each noise behind them, Malcolm flinched under Victor’s hand. “That wasn’t necessary,” he said quietly.
“Probably not, no, but why deny my men the fun?”
Malcolm stiffened but said nothing, again proving he’d learned something in his tenure at the compound.
“So, only a couple months until my visitors come again. Ted has already written to say that he and Marie can’t attend this year, due to issues at home, so where does that leave you?”
“Wherever you can torture me best.”
Victor laughed. “Yes, but I’m not entirely certain where that would be. I would take great pleasure in giving you to some of my…roughest clients, but I really do still want the pleasure of cracking you myself.” He looked hard at the young man. “What are you afraid of, Captain Malcolm Rees?”
For a long moment, Victor was sure he wouldn’t answer and then, “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Well, I know you’re afraid of me and of being the cause of your fellow prisoners’ deaths, but I’m talking about beyond what I’ve made you afraid of.”
“I’m assuming if I said something like spiders, you’d design a large pit of them to drop me in,” he said, a bit of dry humor sneaking through.
“That’s certainly an idea, but I don’t mean what you have a phobia of but what are you truly scared of? Do you have family, Malcolm? A sweetheart back home, perhaps?”
“Even if I did, your reach isn’t that long,” he shot back.
“Mm, that’s unfortunately true. And by the time it might be, it won’t be an issue because you’ll be dead.”
“Yeah, lucky me. Did you want something or can I get back to work?”
Victor squeezed his shoulder warningly, certain it would leave a bruise. “Watch your tone,” he warned and then let go, thrusting Malcolm from him. He stumbled but kept his feet. “Don’t forget, our weekly meeting is tomorrow.”
The captain shook his head, again not quite meeting Victor’s gaze. “I never forget,” he said softly, absently touching the lingering black eye from the previous week.
“Good, I look forward to it.” Victor watched him go, shoulders hunched, and wondered that his indignation today would translate to an honest struggle the next day. He smiled. By the end of the summer, Malcolm Rees would snap for good.
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy universe, Post NIEE
Challenges: Peanut Butter 4 (earth), Papaya 24 (what’s the catch?), Pomegranate 12 (nervous breakdown)
Toppings & Extras: Hot Fudge, Caramel
Word Count: 863
Rating: PG
Summary: It won’t be too long now.
Notes: PB Week 4. Relates to the other Victor and Mal pieces but can be read separately.
For some reason the beans weren’t growing. Victor found out through the grapevine early one more, a few weeks after planting. He debated doing nothing but decided he couldn’t resist an opportunity to get under Malcolm Rees’ skin for any reason so he made an unscheduled visit to the outside pen.
He swept through the gate and down the slight hill the field was built into, heading for the beans, Ralphie and Whalen flanking him. What he saw as he approached gave him pause. A group of the prisoners were gathered around a single crouched man, who held his hands cupped out in front of him.
“Break them up,” Victor ordered in an undertone and Ralphie and Whalen sprang forward.
“Get back to work!” Ralphie snapped, hitting one of them across the back with his cudgel. He went to strike again when they were slow to scatter but the crouching man was up and grabbed his arm.
“Don’t hit my men.”
Victor grinned, somehow unsurprised to realize it was Malcolm.
“Fine,” Ralphie said and sucker punched him in the stomach.
It was a testament to both Malcolm’s spirit and all that Victor had put them through when, instead of letting go of the arm, Malcolm twisted it sharply and snatched the cudgel, throwing it to the ground. “Are you too stupid to realize this is important?” he managed between gasps for breath.
“How so?” Victor asked.
No one had noticed his approach. Malcolm now took an involuntary step back while the others, besides Malcolm’s shadow, Riley Marks, finally scattered. The young captain shrugged, not meeting Victor’s eye, focusing on a point somewhere past his left shoulder. “The soil’s got nothing left. All the nutrients are gone. You’ve been farming it too long.”
“Everything else is growing fine.”
“Yeah, maybe for this season, but by next, it’s doubtful anything but the hardiest plants’ll grow.”
Victor studied him for a moment, freshly surprised. “You grew up on a farm?” he asked.
“Until the day I joined the army,” Malcolm said, more than a trace of bitterness coloring his tone.
He glanced down at the plants and then back up at the two prisoners. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing then that you probably won’t make it another year, isn’t it?” he said pleasantly.
Riley hunched his shoulders more as Malcolm looked away, both shuddering almost in concert. “Suppose so,” Malcolm muttered, obviously knowing Victor would want an answer.
Victor smiled. In some ways, he trained Malcolm well in the previous year while in others the young captain resisted with every fiber of his being. “Malcolm, let’s take a walk,” he said, catching Ralphie’s eye and gesturing towards Riley.
The two guards grinned and, as soon as Victor had clamped a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, steering him down along the fence, they went after Riley. With each noise behind them, Malcolm flinched under Victor’s hand. “That wasn’t necessary,” he said quietly.
“Probably not, no, but why deny my men the fun?”
Malcolm stiffened but said nothing, again proving he’d learned something in his tenure at the compound.
“So, only a couple months until my visitors come again. Ted has already written to say that he and Marie can’t attend this year, due to issues at home, so where does that leave you?”
“Wherever you can torture me best.”
Victor laughed. “Yes, but I’m not entirely certain where that would be. I would take great pleasure in giving you to some of my…roughest clients, but I really do still want the pleasure of cracking you myself.” He looked hard at the young man. “What are you afraid of, Captain Malcolm Rees?”
For a long moment, Victor was sure he wouldn’t answer and then, “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Well, I know you’re afraid of me and of being the cause of your fellow prisoners’ deaths, but I’m talking about beyond what I’ve made you afraid of.”
“I’m assuming if I said something like spiders, you’d design a large pit of them to drop me in,” he said, a bit of dry humor sneaking through.
“That’s certainly an idea, but I don’t mean what you have a phobia of but what are you truly scared of? Do you have family, Malcolm? A sweetheart back home, perhaps?”
“Even if I did, your reach isn’t that long,” he shot back.
“Mm, that’s unfortunately true. And by the time it might be, it won’t be an issue because you’ll be dead.”
“Yeah, lucky me. Did you want something or can I get back to work?”
Victor squeezed his shoulder warningly, certain it would leave a bruise. “Watch your tone,” he warned and then let go, thrusting Malcolm from him. He stumbled but kept his feet. “Don’t forget, our weekly meeting is tomorrow.”
The captain shook his head, again not quite meeting Victor’s gaze. “I never forget,” he said softly, absently touching the lingering black eye from the previous week.
“Good, I look forward to it.” Victor watched him go, shoulders hunched, and wondered that his indignation today would translate to an honest struggle the next day. He smiled. By the end of the summer, Malcolm Rees would snap for good.