Alrighty, on with this little two shot.
Same warnings as the previous chapter – and Brunski is seriously gonna let off some steam in this one, so please proceed with caution if that might trigger you (and yea, that means corporal punishment in this chapter).
Have fun reading :)
"Stay alert, okay," Stiles says as they make it through the corridors to Brunski's office.
Lydia nods her head and swallows. This is turning out to be a bit more eerie than she had thought.
"I think I understand why you didn't want me to come here alone," she says quietly and Stiles sends her a small crooked smile that doesn't reach the eyes.
When they finally reach the door Stiles takes a deep breath before knocking. A gruff voice tells them to enter and Lydia pushes the door open.
They're greeted by soft 70's rock, something that throws Stiles off for some reason, maybe because it seems so awfully normal and human, and Brunski is sitting right there in front of them, comfortably resting in his chair and eyeing the two teens up and down.
When he sees just who it is he straightens up a bit and crinkles his forehead.
"Well, well, Stilinski. Didn't think I'd ever see you here again of your own free will! Pleasure."
"Njaergh," Stiles croaks and sends the man a disgusted look, "pleasure's all yours!"
The head orderly leans back in his chair again and snickers slightly.
"What can I do for you and your pretty friend here?"
Stiles subconsciously steps a bit in front of Lydia as if to shield her from any potential harm.
"We need to get into the file room," Lydia says and looks straight at Brunski.
The big man doesn't say anything for a while. Then he raises his gaze.
"A thousand."
Stiles' brows shoot up.
"Thousand dollars?" Stiles asks incredulously, "to use one little key to open up one little file room! Are you out of your mind?"
Brunski smiles his grim smile.
"When you get the keys you make the price."
"Right," Stiles sighs, "you actually think we have that kind of money?"
"I know you don't," Brunski says, "If you did, daddy sheriff would have payed the bill by now. That's why I'm talking to her."
Stiles squints, obviously annoyed, while Lydia rolls her eyes. She hesitates for a second, then digs into her purse to find her wallet.
"I have 500."
Brunski smiles deviously as Stiles raises his brows.
The room has grown silent and Brunski turns the mix tape in the cassette player, once again making rather pleasant music fill the small office. Then he grabs the bills, rubbing them together.
"Mmm," he smiles tauntingly and sniffs the money, "follow me."
Stiles and Lydia look at each other, both of them thinking about Stiles' words of staying cautious.
xxx
Brunski leads them down the hallways, whistling absentmindedly, and Stiles can feel the discomfort creep up on him. The memories are haunting him and he swallows hard, trying to push them away.
And then they're there. The file room is dusty and cramped and Stiles and Lydia step inside.
"Good?" Brunski asks and crosses his arms.
Stiles nods at him.
"Yeah, we can help ourselves."
He turns his back to the head orderly and looks over Lydia's shoulder.
"Uh, Lydia, you got the list?"
While Lydia hands the sheet of paper to Stiles Brunski steps into the room, locking the door behind him.
"Wait, why'd you write another name on here?" Stiles asks in a worried tone and Lydia looks up.
"I didn't write anything."
"This is your handwriting," Stiles continues.
"Why would I write another name?" Lydia says.
"Why would you write mine?!"
Stiles hands the paper back to Lydia and sucks in a breath. He can feel his heart thumping in his chest as he looks at the redhead. She grabs the paper and eyes it with worry.
Then all of a sudden Brunski is breathing down their necks.
"It was the tapes, wasn't it?" he asks in a hoarse voice, making both teens flinch, "I'll admit, Stiles, I don't have any unusual talents like Lydia, but somehow I just knew we were gonna get a chance to do this again!"
He pulls out a stun gun and quickly jams it against Stiles' shoulder so the boy falls to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Lydia squeaks and backs up a few steps, her hands clasping the piece of paper.
"Your turn, sweetheart!"
Brunski extends the taser and Lydia can't even move, wild fear freezing her to the spot. She wants to scream but then the electricity travels through her and knocks her out. And everything is silent.
xxx
Lydia's pleas for help is what finally pulls Stiles out of the silent pit of blackness.
"HEEELP! HELP US! Someone."
"Lydia," Stiles tries, but she keeps yelling, "Lydia!" he tries again, this time louder, "No one's gonna come. Just stop, okay."
The girl lets out something suspiciously like a sob and Stiles tries to move to get to her. That's when he realizes that they're tethered. His arms are locked in a chain above his head, the heavy metal moving over some pipes and then down, locking Lydia in the same uncomfortable position as him about six feet in front of him.
"Stiles," Lydia says in a tiny voice, "what did Brunski mean?"
"Huh, what?"
Stiles is still a bit woozy and can't fully focus.
"What did he mean when he said that he knew you two were gonna get a chance to do this again?"
This time her words stick, and Stiles blinks a couple of times. Given their current position he knows exactly what Brunski had been referring to and he swallows.
"He's gonna whip me," he mumbles.
"What?" Lydia shrieks and automatically pulls her arms, her downward movement forcing Stiles up on his toes with a wince.
"Sorry," she says when she realizes that she caused Stiles pain.
"He whipped you when you were here?!"
"I-... well, call it whatever you want. It wasn't with, like, a whip... But yeah..." Stiles stops talking and draws a long breath.
"Stiles, what did he do to you?"
The teen lets out a small huff, not really wanting to share the story, but then Lydia's eyes catches his.
"Please Stiles, tell me what he did..."
xxx
… Malia narrowed her eyes when Brunski led Stiles to the living room. As soon as the head orderly left, she went to where Stiles sat and plopped down on the chair next to his.
"You smell stressed," she stated and eyed Stiles' red ear with curiosity, "what happened to your ear?"
"Brunski happened," Stiles grumbled, one of his hands shooting up to rub the still sore ear, "he got to me before I could get into the basement. And besides, he doesn't even have the damned key."
Malia looked at him and tilted her head.
"If you really need to get there I know another way. But then we need to get into the closed unit."
"I'd really prefer not stealing any more keys," Stiles said with a sigh.
He pressed his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
"You won't have to, but you probably won't like the plan anyway."
Stiles chewed on his tongue and processed Malia's words.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Well, regular keys won't get us into the closed unit, so you need to create a distraction, attract enough attention to get either Brunski or one of the doctors close to you. I'll swipe a key card and then we'll be able to get in."
Malia eyed Stiles while rubbing her forearms.
"You still cold?"
"Yeah, as I said, I'm never warm."
"Okay, well then let's get to it, maybe an adrenaline rush can boost your warmth."
Malia sent Stiles a little smile and got up.
"Let's wait for dinner. Maybe an opportunity will show."
xxx
Stiles pulled a face when he chewed on his mouthful of foul-tasting chili con carne. It had to be some of the most disgusting food ha had ever had. Malia was sitting opposite Stiles and he watched her devour her plate of food within a few minutes.
Stiles couldn't help but smile a little. That girl was definitely something else. He was just about to grab his glass of water when Brunski entered the room. His smug face made anger boil inside of Stiles and he gritted his teeth.
Malia sensed the sudden anger and turned in her chair.
"Stiles," she said through her teeth, "don't do anything stupid."
"Be ready to get that card," Stiles rasped and got up from his seat.
He quickly stalked towards the other end of the room and already felt sorry for the unsuspecting kid he had his sights on. He was a pretty big guy and Stiles felt adrenaline course through him as he got closer.
"Hey," he yelled, "what the hell are you looking at!"
The guy sent Stiles a confused look and raised his hand just in time to catch Stiles' fist before it collided with his chin.
"What the fuck!" he rumbled and got up from his seat, making Stiles gulp when he realized just how big the other kid was.
Just as Stiles grabbed the brown, wooden tray from the table Brunski turned around to see where the disturbance was coming from.
Stiles swung the tray full force, smacking the kid right on the nose and the big guy fell to his knees.
"STILINSKI!" Brunski roared and strode towards the fighting boys, "what the HELL are you doing?!"
The adrenaline was still rushing through him and without thinking Stiles turned around and used his momentum to get extra force behind his movement. His balled up fist caught Brunski's cheekbone with a thump and for a second the big orderly froze in disbelief.
A doctor, who had reached them, wrestled the big kid to the floor before he managed to get a hold of Stiles, and just as he was cursing from the pain in his hand Stiles found himself being grabbed harshly by the scruff of his neck.
"Ow!" he exclaimed and narrowed his eyes when he felt Brunski pull him backwards.
"The closed unit is waiting for you, Stiles! Let's go!"
The head orderly started pulling Stiles with him, and along with the doctor holding the other kid they made it out of the dining room. When the doctor pushed past Malia the girl extended a hand and swiftly pulled the key card loose and pocketed it.
Stiles winced from the hard grip around the back of his neck, but when Brunski was steering him out the door he turned his head and saw Malia nod discretely, making him relax slightly.
xxx
Brunski pushed Stiles in the back, making the teen stumble over the threshold and into the small room. When Stiles regained his balance and turned around a stinging slap immediately caught him across the cheek.
"Argh," he groaned and placed a hand over the mark.
"You punched me!" Brunski hissed, his nostrils flaring from fury.
For once, Stiles didn't say anything. He had a feeling pushing Brunski any further would be damn near suicidal.
"You can be sure that I'll introduce you to the five point restraint system tonight, boy, but I think you need to learn a lesson first!"
Stiles slowly closed his mouth and blinked a couple times. Well that sounded ominous! Without saying anything else Brunski left the room and closed the heavy metal door with a clang. Then he opened the small hatch and looked at the teen.
"Don't get too comfortable. I'll be back in a minute."
Stiles slid down the wall and hugged his knees. What the hell had he gotten himself into!
xxx
Stiles flinched as the door opened again and he felt his stomach drop when he saw an almost content look on the head orderly's face.
Brunski pulled something from behind his back and Stiles gulped.
"Know what this is, Stiles?" Brunski asked and twirled the object in his hand.
Stiles scratched his nose and felt the panic grow deep within.
"It's a rubber hose," he croaked and cleared his throat, annoyed that he sounded scared.
"Correct," Brunski nodded, "and from the tone of your voice I guess you know what these are used for..."
Stiles swallowed hard and then sucked in a breath. Back in the day rubber hoses were often used in facilities much like Eichen, he knew, and supposedly they packed quite a sting but left little or no marks. Well wasn't that just fucking great!
"Please," Stiles said, getting to his feet and extending his hands defensively, "you don't have to do this!"
Brunski tilted his head slightly, an evil smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, I know. But I'm going to."
The big man quickly advanced on the teen and grabbed him by the shirt. Stiles dug his heels in an tried pulling free. Not that he had anywhere to run, but he couldn't just not do anything.
Brunski tightened his grip and managed to wrestle Stiles down on the bed, stomach down. He kept a hand around the back of Stiles' neck and used the other to secure the boy with the straps.
"No!" Stiles cried, thrashing against the belt that was now fixating him across the lower back, "please, I'm sorry, okay, I'm really sorry!"
Brunski didn't answer but secured first one and then the other of Stiles' hands. Lastly he tied down his feet and suddenly Stiles was practically immobilized, just like Oliver had been last night. He felt his stomach clench and he gritted his teeth as Brunski whipped the hose through the air with a sickening whistle.
"No one attacks me unpunished, Stilinski!" Brunski growled.
Then he cracked the piece of rubber downwards and it caught Stiles across the back. He winced and closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but this.
Brunski raised his arm again, making the hose fly, this time catching Stiles on his butt.
"Ngh," Stiles gasped and gulped in a breath.
That had hurt a lot more than it seemed like it should. Apparently Brunski didn't agree. He ripped the shirttail out from under the heavy, restraining belt and pushed it far up, leaving Stiles' back exposed.
The teen felt goosebumps rise on his skin from the chill of the air, but then another stripe struck his back and a line of fire erupted.
"Ow, fuck," Stiles yelped and instinctively tried to pull free from the restraints, "stop!"
Obviously Brunski didn't and Stiles writhed when yet another lick kissed his shoulder blade.
"Aarh, I'm sorry, sorr-OW, sorry!"
Brunski stopped for a moment and twirled the hose.
"Oh, I'm not sure you are. At least not yet!"
Stiles swallowed and eyed the big man angrily.
"You fucking asshole," he spat through gritted teeth.
One of Brunski's eyebrows shot up and he looked at Stiles through slightly narrowed eyes.
"You really don't know when to shut up, do you, Stilinski?"
He followed up with a series of hard blows all over Stiles' back and the teen whimpered and closed his eyes. The next few licks struck him low across the widest part of his ass and Stiles let out a string of curses.
"Fucking hell, ow, ARHOW, stop!" he cried and felt tears gather in his eyes.
Stiles couldn't stop the tears from falling, but he closed his eyes hard and tried being as quiet as possible. He didn't know how long the beating continued, but finally Brunski stopped and Stiles felt his entire body shiver, his back and rear warm and hurting.
The head orderly loosened the restraints and forced Stiles over, pushing his back and ass harshly against the bed, before strapping him down again.
"Ungh," Stiles hissed when his abused flesh was pushed mercilessly down the mattress.
Brunski patted Stiles on the cheek a few times and looked down at the teen.
"Now, I believe you're sorry, Stiles. Sleep tight!"
With those words he turned and left Stiles alone...
xxx
...Lydia looks at Stiles, tears once again glistening in her eyes.
"Stiles," she says softly, "why the hell didn't you tell anyone about this?"
"What good would that do?" he ponders and tries to scratch his nose, "it's not like I could prove anything. When I finally got out of here the Nogitsune had taken over and when that thing was killed the few marks Brunski actually left were already gone..."
"But," Lydia continues, "you could have-"
"What?" Stiles asks, "corporal punishment in places like this is a pretty gray area. I'm not even sure it's actually illegal."
"Well, that doesn't make it right!" Lydia sighs.
The teens freeze up when Brunski suddenly enters the room. Then Lydia starts screaming for help again.
"HEEELP! HEELP UUUS, PLEASE!"
"Lots of people screaming in a place like this, Lydia," Stiles says and eyes Brunski warily.
"Well in case you didn't notice, all those suicides were murders!" Lydia shoots at Stiles, panic lacing her words, and she turns her head to look angrily at the big man.
Brunski snickers quietly and walks to Lydia.
"But they weren't murders," he says, "I'm not some serial killer like Ted Bundy, going around cutting op college girls."
"Nah, you're just an angel of death!" Stiles growls and sends Brunski a dark glare.
The head orderly stops and turns to Stiles. He grabs his chin and eyes the teen.
"I don't think you understand my level of commitment to my work here, Stiles! There are people here who don't simply need treatment. They need release. I helped them... I helped Lorraine."
Lydia rustles the chain, catching Brunski's attention.
"You killed her," the girl says, almost apathetically.
"I helped her," Brunski counters, "and now you can help me. Because there's something of it that's always bothered me."
Brunski grabs a portable cassette player from a bag and pops in a tape. It takes a few seconds but then Lorraine's desperate voice reaches their ears.
Stiles tenses on his spot and catches Lydia's eyes.
"Lydia, look at me," he says seriously, "don't listen to it, okay, don't listen. Just focus on my voice, okay."
Lydia balls up her hands and Stiles can see the tendons on her neck tightening. He growls in his throat, almost a feral sound, and throws Brunski a livid look.
"HEY," he roars, "turn it off!"
Brunski just snarls and turns to the boy. Then his fist connects roughly with Stiles' cheekbone, sending the teen to his knees, that way forcing Lydia up on her tiptoes uncomfortably.
"STILES!" she screams and looks on with tears in her eyes.
Brunski grabs Stiles by the hair, pulling him back to his feet. Then he points a finger at Lydia.
"Then listen," he hisses, "or you'll get hurt!"
"Please don't," Lorraine's voice begs on the tape, and Lydia feels the first tears slip over the edge.
"Here it is," Brunski says, "this is the part I never understood. Listen."
"Please don't hurt her."
"Don't hurt who?"
"Ariel...".
Stiles and Lydia eye each other silently, Brunski's gaze flying from one to the other.
"What?" he asks gruffly, clearly sensing that the teens know what Lorraine had been talking about.
Lydia sends Stiles a look that tells him she's seriously considering telling.
"No," he croaks, "don't tell him anything, Lydia."
Brunski squints and nods once.
"Fine," he rumbles in a low voice and bends down to grab something from the bag on the floor.
Brunski withdraws a large, heavy belt, clearly one from a five point restraint system, and grabs it by the buckle. He folds it in half and cracks the two sides together, producing a massive smack that makes both Stiles and Lydia flinch.
Brunski gets in front of Lydia and grabs her around her throat.
"One last chance," he growls menacingly, "or this comes into play!"
A tiny peep escapes Lydia and she shrinks back.
The anger is raging through Stiles and he feels panic course through him at the mere thought of Brunski laying his disgusting hands on Lydia. He moves slightly forward and raises one of his legs. Then he takes aim and kicks Brunski hard right in the rear.
"Don't hurt her you sick fuck!"
The head orderly whips around, a furious snarl on his face.
"Remember what I told you last time you attacked me?" he spits and Stiles draws in a breath.
"Vaguely!"
Brunski snickers evilly and moves behind Stiles.
The teen closes his eyes, the muscles in his arms and back tensing. Lydia breathes heavily and takes a step forward.
"No, please!" she begs, "please don't!"
But Brunski just hauls Stiles' shirts up, securing the shirttails through the neck hole of his tee.
"Don't tell him anything, Lydia!" Stiles says through his teeth and balls up his fists nervously.
The first smack lands heavily across the width of Stiles' back, the end of the huge belt wrapping slightly around his waist, and Stiles grunts from pain. This is not even comparable to the rubber hose, he thinks to himself, and that had hurt plenty!
Lydia lets her head fall forward, her long hair covering most of her face. She flinches visibly when Brunski swings the belt again but refuses to look at the painful scene in front of her.
"Ungh!" Stiles gasps when the thick leather whips across his skin.
He can feel his back tingling and burning and he hears the loud thwap of the next blow a second before the pain registers.
When it does he can't help but pull the chain as a feeble attempt to get away from the onslaught, and Lydia is pulled upwards as a result. She whimpers and Stiles curses at this damn contraption.
The movement causes his shirts to loosen and fall down and Brunski pauses the punishment for a moment to pull them up again.
"Stand still," he orders as he grabs Stiles by the back of his hair, making the boy squint "or I'll switch to her!"
Lydia squeaks involuntarily and Stiles grits his teeth.
"No," he grunts, "I'll stay still."
The shirts only stay up for a few blows and Brunski growls in obvious annoyance. Instead of tugging them up once more he shifts his focus to Stiles' ass, and the teen can't hold in the pain when the belt hits its mark.
"Aargh," he groans and closes his eyes.
"No!" Lydia yelps, feeling completely helpless.
Brunski raises his arm again and slaps the thick piece of leather down so hard that Lydia is certain the sound can be heard all over Eichen.
"Aarh-haow!" Stiles moans when the blow catches him right on the under curve.
Brunski is working himself into a frenzy, the smacks falling fast and furious and Stiles can't stand being in his own body right now.
"AARHAHAOW!" he wails, his ass feeling like the skin is being whipped clean off, "STO-AARH-STOP!"
Lydia is crying openly, tears streaming down her cheeks and she winces with each blow Stiles takes. When another lash kisses his upper thighs Stiles' knees buckle and he fights to stay upright.
"You want me to-OW-beg, you twisted son of a-ungh-bitch?" he whimpers in a hoarse voice.
"STOP!" Lydia sobs, "STOP IT!"
And suddenly Brunski does. He's been at it for so long that his arm has tired out. Stiles is heaving for air, his entire body shaking and burning with pain.
The head orderly curses to himself, clearly frustrated that the teens refuse to tell him anything. He grabs the almost empty bag and pulls out a medical case.
"We get a lot of teenagers trying to break into our drug cabinets. Most of the time they don't succeed. But you two... look pretty clever to me."
Brunski pulls out a syringe and both Lydia and Stiles struggle against their restraints. The big man takes a hold of one of Stiles' ears and pulls him close.
"Ahng," Stiles hisses and tries to pull free.
"I should have done this the first time you were here, you insolent brat!"
"No, no, nonono!" Lydia begs when she realizes that Brunski has given up and is ready to continue "providing release".
Brunski lets go of Stiles and quickly moves to Lydia. The orderly grabs the girl around her chin and pushes the needle against the soft skin on her neck. Right when he is about to plunge it in the door is practically blown of its hinges and Parrish enters the room, gun drawn and a wild expression on his face.
"Drop it," Jordan yells,"take your thumb off that needle and slowly withdraw from her neck."
"Young deputy," Brunski growls, "you're just a kid. A bet you never even fired a-"
A gunshot rips through the room and Brunski collapses to the floor, a surprised look on his face.
Parrish quickly moves to unlock the restraints, and after checking Lydia for injuries extends a supporting hand to Stiles.
Standing hurts, walking hurts, breathing hurts and Stiles looks at the heavy belt on the floor, a disgusted look on his flushed face.
Brunski is shaking where he is lying, blood running from his mouth, but an ambulance is on the way and the orderly will most likely survive.
xxx
Red and blue are lighting up the dark night outside, and Stiles sucks in a deep breath of fresh, cool air. He squeezes Lydia's hand and they carefully make it down the front stairs.
Natalie rushes towards Lydia when she sees her, clearly relieved, but when she reaches the teens anger is evident in her eyes. She raises her hand and smacks Stiles across the cheek.
"Arh, what the hell!" he exclaims and Lydia covers her mouth in shock.
"Mom!" she cries, "it wasn't his fault."
Natalie points a finger at Stiles who eyes her hand warily.
"You always seem to be around when trouble erupts!"
Stiles doesn't know what to say to that, but Lydia manages to pull her mom away, and she sends Stiles one last look before continuing with her mother. John sends Natalie a confused glance and quickly pushes past her and Lydia to get to his son.
He pulls him in for a hug and Stiles jumps and hisses, making his dad let go.
"What did that son of a bitch do to you?" the sheriff asks, an angry edge to his voice.
"I'll be fine dad," Stiles answers shakily and takes a light step towards the car.
"Stiles," John says firmly and grabs his son gently by the arm, "what did he do?"
"Just-can we please just drop it?"
"No!"
Stiles rolls his eyes and takes a few more steps towards the car.
"Let's just say I'll wanna sleep on my stomach for a few days..."
"What?" John shoots, his eyes widening, "Stiles did he-"
"Oh god, no, dad, no. But the man can wield a freakin' belt!"
John grabs Stiles gently around the neck, placing a kiss on the top of his head.
"As I said, I'll be fine, but damn, this hurts like a motherfucker!"
John lets the cuss word slide and opens the car door so Stiles can get into the back. The teen carefully places himself on his belly, his back and rear throbbing, and John starts the car.
They're finally going home. Finally going away from Eichen. Stiles sighs and hopes he never has to go back...
The ending somewhat sucks, I know, but I just couldn't seem to find something that worked better than this.
Reviews are always more than welcome :)
-RecliningHorizontally