A/N: This fic's a bit different from the others that I've written (and never finished- sorry for those who enjoyed those ones!) and I'm quite enjoying it so far.
Warnings for this chapter: a bit of violence, kind of gore? mostly violence.
Enjoy!
"Blaine?" called the small brunette girl, tucking her neatly braided hair into the tartan cap on top of her head. She smoothed out her knee-length coat, looking up as her younger brother quickly ran out into the kitchen where his sister was standing. He was clad simply in tan slacks and a faded white button down shirt rolled up to his elbows. Rachel sighed. "Where's your coat? Your shoes? Your cap? Your sash?" She hissed, gesturing to the dark blue band wrapped around her arm. Blaine sighed. "I don't want to wear it." He said, looking down at his dirtied and bare feet. Rachel groaned heavily and took hold of Blaine's wrist, dragging him off to the small room that they had called a bedroom. "You know you can't go out to town looking like this, especially without your sash." She muttered, seating him in the small stool in front of the broken mirror on the wall. She picked up a comb from the end table and began to yank it through his unruly curls. Blaine winced, but said nothing as his sister attempted to tame his hair. "Why are we going out anyway?" He said after Rachel set down the comb and smoothed his somewhat manageable hair. "Are we out of bread already?"
"No. Not yet anyway," She said softly, picking up a black cap with a long brim from the table. "I need to go see Finn down at the butcher shop. He says he found work for us." She set the cap on Blaine's curls, slipping most of them beneath it. "And you need more gel. You look sloppy without it."
"Does it matter?" Blaine said coldly, tipping the brim of the hat upward somewhat. "It's not as if people will treat me different if my hair is slicked down. They look at me like I'm some zoo exhibit no matter what." Rachel looked down for a moment before walking over to the tiny wardrobe in the corner of the room, grabbing her brother's dark trench coat and the green sash from the shelf. "It doesn't matter. When you look… sophisticated, there's less of a chance of an officer throwing you down on the ground and beating you to death." Blaine swallowed, looking down before standing up, taking the coat from his sister and pulling it on. "I heard that they're starting to take the clean ones and put them on stage," Blaine said quietly as Rachel buttoned up the coat to his neck and brought the rim of his hat down again. "Show them off. Let people bid on them, the highest bidder gets to throw a noose around their neck. They step out of line-"
"That's enough." Rachel interrupted quickly, walking back to the wardrobe to pick up Blaine's shoes, a pair of clean white socks folded and stuffed into one of them. "Finn… is friends with the chief of police, and Finn is going to marry me; you know that will never happen to you."
"It happened to Sebastian." Blaine said, sitting down on the stool again to pull on the socks and shoes. "He was my friend and you said that Noah would get him out but he didn't-"
"Sebastian was a crook. You're lucky you weren't up on that podium with him for being associated with him." Blaine fell silent, giving his sister a hard glare, then took the green band from her hands, wrapping it tightly around his right upper arm.
"What do you mean the position was filled?" Rachel pleaded, chasing Finn around the service counter. Blaine kept his eyes down and his hands folded in front of him. It was law that "Mos"- like himself- when permitted in buildings, keep their mouths shut unless spoken to. His eyes wandered over to the window by the door, watching a crude wooden stage be pushed out into the square by a few tall men. Blue sashes. Blaine thought as he dropped his gaze again.
"Rachel, it isn't my fault that someone got to it before I could call you again-"
"Finn, you don't understand, without that job, how am I supposed to feed Blaine and myself? I'll have to find work in… in…" Finn sighed heavily, pulling the small girl into his arms. "I won't let that happen- I promise. Our wedding is in a month and they'll give us requisites." Rachel buried her face in her fiancé's chest, sighing shakily before looking up at him. "What about Blaine? They won't let him live in our house- we're lucky he can stay with me now, but you know how strict the laws are-"
"We'll find a way around it. Somehow. I promise." Finn looked over at Blaine, who was watching the hardly clothed men and women get shoved up onto the stage, green bands around their malnourished arms. A tall, dark-skinned girl held her face up to the harsh sunlight, as if she were proud, her black hair cascading over her bony shoulders like water was dragged up by an auctioneer- Blaine could hear the man shouting faintly through the glass- talking about her weight and history, probably. Suddenly, another girl attempted to jump onto the stage, a girl with dirty blonde hair that fell to the middle of her back. Blaine sensed something odd about her- it may have been the fact she wasn't wearing what a young woman was to wear on the streets- a long skirt that brushed against the ground as she walked, a button down blouse that fit snugly around the frame, a pair of boots with pointed toes that clicked on the stone of the streets, a cap that concealed her hair, and a long coat covering it all- but a tattered shirt that left her stomach and lower back bare, a pair of what looked like boys' slacks, gloves with the fingers sloppily cut off, and no shoes. But what Blaine decided made this strange girl stand out was that she didn't have a band on. Not a green band signaling she was a Mo, or a blue one saying she was a Ro. Her right arm was completely bare, aside from a few bandages. She screamed and shouted, and from what Blaine could see, it looked like there were tear tracks cutting through the thick layer of dirt covering her thin face. The auctioneer rolled his eyes as the girl grabbed onto the green-banded girl's hands and tossed his head towards her. Blaine arched an eyebrow, his eyes widening when he saw an officer with the brim of his hat covering his eyes walking over. He pulled his gun from its holster. Blaine averted his eyes as he heard the gunshot through the glass. Both the blonde girl and the Mo collapsed off the stage in a bloodied heap. The auction went on as if nothing had happened.
"Blaine." Finn said, considering reaching out to touch his arm but pulling back at the last second. Blaine looked up slowly, folding his hands behind his back politely. "Yes, sir?" He muttered, something angry blinking in his eyes. Finn sighed, sliding his hands into the pocket of his apron. "There's a small apartment complex near the outskirts of town. Lots of Mos live there, so there shouldn't be a problem. I'll talk to the building manager- he's a Ro, but he's a really nice guy, doesn't have any problem with people like you-"
"People like me?" Blaine said, a hint of irritation to his tone. "Disgusting Mos who… who don't know how to take care of themselves? People who deserve to be publicly humiliated and executed?"
"Blaine, you know that's not what he meant," Rachel spoke up, walking up to stand beside Finn, taking his hand tightly in her own. Finn sighed sadly, looking down for a moment. "I'm going to talk to him. You should be living there by the end of the week." Blaine huffed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Fine. Thanks."
"Blaine, be polite." Rachel hissed, knowing fully well that Finn didn't give a damn about his fiancée's Mo brother's attitude toward them. Blaine rolled his eyes and forced a sickening smile. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for being ever so gracious to someone of my kind." He said sarcastically before throwing his smile away and looking back down. Finn and Rachel exchanged sad looks before walking back over to the counter and speaking softly about Rachel's career situation again. Blaine's eyes returned to the window. Someone had carted off the Mo-girl's and the Blank girl's bodies, and the auctioneer had moved on to a new Mo, a burly man with dark stubble across his chin and hair cut close to his head. Blaine sighed; Finn gave Rachel a sack of freshly cut meats and she walked back over to Blaine. "Come on," She said quietly, taking Blaine's hand. She waved goodbye to Finn and headed out of the shop, toting Blaine alongside her.
As they made their way past the auction stage, Blaine's eyes met with a tall, pale Mo, with chestnut hair that fell limp in his sad green eyes. There was practically nothing to him- he was all skin and bone with a thin shirt that could've been made from a bed sheet hanging off of his frame and a pair of torn slacks with no shoes. His green band, despite being tied so tightly, looked loose around his forearm. He wore no expression as Blaine looked up at him, but his eyes widened as they caught onto the band of his arm. Rachel tugged on Blaine's hand, causing him to look down immediately as they walked past. "You know you aren't supposed to let the Mos they're auctioning off make eye contact with you," she muttered as they got passed the stage. Blaine threw a glance over his shoulder- the green-eyed Mo was still watching him. Blaine looked back down, watching his feet. "That one back there… he was so young- I thought they didn't auction them off until they turn eighteen?"
"He must've done something really bad- murder, maybe."
"That boy can't have been a murderer. He… he didn't…"
"That's enough, Blaine." Rachel said sternly, gripping his wrist tightly. Blaine looked over his shoulder one last time at the green-eyed boy; he'd turned his gaze away, staring blankly into the crowd as he scratched the skin beneath his band. Blaine bit his lip and looked back down, practically shrinking into his sister's side.