A Night With A Madman, a psychonauts fanfic

Author's Note: Ah, here I am, putting off my work on Love Works in Weird Ways just so I can write a couple I don't even like. While I'm sick, nonetheless! (How low I have sunk…)

This is my proof LabotoSasha can be a very dark, evil pairing devoid of love on either end. This is also my declaration to the world that I am capable of writing something serious every now and again. This is pure torture, with as much horror as I could write without actually writing what happened.

THIS IS SLASH. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SLASH, DO NOT FLAME. THE SAME GOES FOR THE PAIRING. THIS MEANS YOU, KARANIYUKI, AND I DON'T WANT ANY FLAMES FROM YOUR 'LAZY CHEEZ' PERSONA, EITHER.

That said, I own nothing, and enjoy.

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Sasha would never again take his psychic powers for granted.

He couldn't light a cigarette right now, couldn't even reach it, and he needed one. He wished desperately to be able to get his sunglasses back on, but there was no telekinesis powerful enough to break through the helmet. Thanks to this ugly little piece of metal, he could not even use clairvoyance to tell where Laboto was. All he could do was pray that the madman either stayed away or removed the stupid helmet, even for a second.

Come to think of it, if he'd had his powers, Laboto would have been a pile of smoldering ashes by now.

Alas, he had nothing. Nothing to do but panic, that is. What was worse, after a few attempts to move, the mad dentist had decided to be 'extra careful'. This meant strapping Sasha down at the elbows, knees, and waist instead of letting the metal bands on the Psychonauts ankles and wrists do the job. Sasha regretted trying to move now. Everything was sore and all he could do was lay there, helpless and aching while a madman literally pranced around him. Silently he prayed that Milla would be treated better. And, thus far, she had. Laboto had yet to do anything sinister regarding the female Psychonaut, and mentally Sasha was rejoicing.

Of all the madmen Agent Nein had met, Laboto was the worst. That was saying something for a Psychonaut. But who else but Laboto would run around at ten at night, tear half the lab apart looking for a granola bar, then rush over and hug an unconscious Agent Vodello in celebration? Sasha would have been amused (in a black humor sort of way) if it hadn't been for the fact that as the hours went by, Laboto put all the brains away and got quieter and quieter. In Sasha's experience, any time a madman got quiet was the time to be worried. And when that madman had infinite torture devices and time at his disposal, that was a time for panic and screaming.

His eyes darted to Agent Vodello's body, which, though it still held her brain, was limp and helpless due to the wonder of modern drugs. If Laboto even looked at Milla the wrong way, Sasha would find a way to kill him. He would break through the restraints and defy every law of science to kill this man in a horrible, painful way. He tensed and thought up a hundred ways to do so before he realized that the doctor's squeaky assistant was preparing to move Milla's body, and the doctor himself was engrossed in a new experiment. The doctor muttered something to his assistant about keeping Milla in a psychic-proof cell until the new brain jars were ready. Sasha sighed, relieved. So the madman wasn't planning to harm his best friend/partner. At least one thing was going right:

Milla was safe.

But was he?

Sasha didn't know if mere minutes passed or if hours went by. Yet time seemed to stop as Dr. Laboto put away the chemicals he'd been messing with and walked over to where his prisoner sat. The German Psychonaut tried to set him on fire. In this weakened state, only faint traces of smoke appeared. Sasha heard the footsteps draw closer and turned his head slowly to look into what he considered to be the stupidest looking face of evil ever. Mismatched eyes and a shower cap were hardly menacing, even in this state.

Laboto paused. "You know, your eyes are in terrible shape, Agent Nein." He moved closer; too close. Sasha could feel the doctor's breath on his cheek. "You need more than sunglasses." He reached out and touched Sasha's cheek. "Perhaps I could take your eyes out with your brain…"

Sasha flinched back from the touch, as if it threatened to burn him. Glaring up at his captor, he returned, "At least my eyes match."

This had a very unwanted reaction from Laboto, who moved even closer, then zeroed in on Sasha's face. He was close enough for their noses to brush. Sasha fought down a panic as he stared into Laboto's mismatched eyes. The air felt hot all of a sudden. He tried not to look directly at those lit up eyes, but they were hypnotic. Perhaps they were that way for a reason, Sasha mused. Perhaps Laboto had those colors for some sinister subconscious manipulation. The thought was terrifying.

"I disagree, Nein," Laboto moved to whisper seductively into Sasha's small ears, "I think your left eye has a few more flecks of gold in it than the right does. Such a rare color. It'd be a shame to let it go. I think I'll keep you here a little longer."

Sasha neither knew nor cared what Laboto meant by that. All he knew was that he was now officially terrified. He was alone, trapped in an abandoned insane asylum miles away from any help. If help did arrive, it would take hours. Suddenly the world seemed very scary. He gulped, noting how dry his throat was. With some luck, maybe he'd die of dehydration before the madman went any further. He prayed this was the case.

Luck was not on his side.

The dentist tried to hold Sasha's face in his hands, but in a panic, his prisoner bit him. It was a calculated move, just enough to break the skin. Instead of reeling back like he'd hoped, though, Laboto grinned slightly at this and shoved his hand into Sasha's mouth. The germophobic Psychonaut let out a short screech. Everything he knew about blood ran through his mind; all the diseases that it could carry and pass if ingested. He managed to twist his head, and most of it was smeared across his cheeks. He began twisting and turning almost involuntarily, a frantic fear of disease screaming through his mind. Even though Laboto had stopped trying to push the horrid, bleeding hand in his mouth, at this point Agent Nein was barely aware of the other man's existence.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Laboto snapped, slapping him across the face. Amazingly, this cliché trick worked and Sasha stopped short, breathing hard. "Aw, my poor little experiment is all scared. And of blood?" He kissed his captive on the cheek. "Tell me all about it."

Shakily, Sasha replied, "I hardly think it proper to discuss my phobias with a madman."

Laboto sighed and played with Sasha's hair absently. "You are so blind. You know, you wouldn't think me mad if you only listened. You have such a nice brain. It's a shame to let it go to waste like this." Then, suddenly, his face split into a mad grin. "And the rest of you is nice, too." He moved forward and asked in a soft, calculating tone, "But we won't go there if you just tell me all about Lili Zanotto, will we?"

Sasha stared at his captor in newfound horror, but the other man got up and appeared to leave when it became clear Sasha wasn't answering. What this man wanted with a ten year old girl, he neither knew nor cared, but not a word was coming out on the subject. Laboto would have to kill him before that happened. Relieved that the madman had left, Agent Nein concentrated on spitting the blood out of his mouth.

The relief vanished when a soft handkerchief wiped the blood off his chin. Sasha's eyes looked up, wide as a frightened animal. The next thing he knew, a very bloody hand was shoved into his mouth and this time there was no escape. Laboto had a hold on Sasha's neck with his claw, and any movement resulted in a sharp pinch that made it hard to breathe. In spite of this, Sasha fought until he lost enough air to be dizzy and was choking, trying not to swallow any blood. Terrified, he realized that Laboto had cut his own hand further, just for the sheer pain he could bring his captive. Sasha redoubled his escape attempts.

Finally, he went limp and closed his eyes, tears flowing down his cheeks. His fists clenched and shook, unable to accept what was happening. He felt so… violated.

The horror ended after what seemed like an eternity to Sasha. All he could think of was the bacteria, germs, and cells he'd just swallowed, and he felt like he was going to throw up. Everything smelled like blood now, and the scent burned itself up into his brain. He shook as tears leaked out of his eyes against his wishes.

"Now, what do you have to say? Anything useful, Agent Nein?" the madman asked.

"Yes." Sasha glared. "I want you to know I will now be adding assault to my list of charges under which I'll arrest you."

Laboto's laughter rang out. "Oh, my dear boy, that was not assault!" He sat on the edge of the metal slab he'd laid Sasha out upon. "That was a warm up!"

With this statement, he planted a very rough kiss on the Agent's lips. Sasha closed his eyes and tried his hardest not to scream. More tears leaked out of his eyes. He tried to turn away, but Laboto was there in an instant. He felt his heart speed up. If only someone, anyone would come and stop this horror from happening… Sasha prayed quietly for a miracle, but none came, just more relentless kisses trailing down to his neck…. And lower…. And lower…

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(2 hours later)

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Laboto could do nothing worse to him, so he backed off, silently fuming that he hadn't been able to get any information out of his prisoner. After a moment, the lab's lights clicked, then dimmed. Silence. Sasha prayed no one else would come as he lay there on the lab floor, feeling nauseous. Bruises spotted his arms, and his legs were scratched to the point of being pale pink. His breathing was hard and came in gasps. He prayed the pain would end, but it was everywhere.

A new set of footsteps reached Sasha's ears. Not heavy and quick like Laboto's. These were light, slow steps. Still, Sasha tensed. A squeaky voice called for him not to be afraid. If he did what was asked of him, Laboto wouldn't have to be called. He realized later he could have fought and escaped. He could have run away. But his mind was no longer working. He just wanted to be alone. The threat of Laboto coming anywhere near him ever again was worse than death itself. Shakily he pulled his clothes on and allowed himself to be led like a zombie, deeper into the asylum, where he was shoved quickly into a little cell that was locked tight. How he even walked when his whole body ached so horribly, he didn't know. All he knew was he was actually glad to have a solid steel door in between him and Laboto.

Then it all sank in.

Milla screamed, "Sasha!" and managed to catch him before he hit the floor. Sobbing, the once proud Psychonaut curled into a ball and prayed that his brain would be removed soon. His clothes were messy, crinkled where they hadn't been before. Agent Vodello was shaking him, trying to talk to him, but was shoved away as he scrambled over to the toilet in the room and threw up. At the sight of the blood, he felt further sickened and spent the next ten minutes vomiting. The night's events flashed through his mind and he couldn't stop. Tears were threatening to fall, but he held them back.

Finally, it subsided. He had nothing else in his stomach to dispose of. Milla stood next to him, fear written on her face. Sasha couldn't look at her. Her dress was pink. Pink was a close cousin to red, and red was like blood. The thought was gruesome. Tears fell down his cheeks, and he tried failingly to wipe them away before his partner saw. He couldn't let Milla see him like this. He was a Psychonaut; he should be strong. This wasn't the worst thing that could happen, he told himself. But the words were pointless even in his own head.

"Darling," Milla whispered gently, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. He jumped back from her, not wanting to ever be touched by anyone ever again, in any way. Startled, she held out her hand to him. "Darling, calm down."

For a moment he debated the logic of killing himself and asking Agent Vodello to blame it on Laboto. But that would never work. The very idea was rejected before it fully formed. Instead, he wiped his mouth and stood, trying to keep his face devoid of any emotion, because once he started to show any, he'd break into a hundred pieces and no one would ever be able to put him back together.

He looked at her and whispered, "A-Agent Vodello, I, I want you to know that I'm going to- to be filing sexual assault charges against La- against him if- when we get out of this." He paused, then cleared his throat as his voice shook. "Please have the paperwork ready."