So this got a bit longer than expected but I hope you like it.
WARNING: VERY GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF RAPE INVOLVED. IT WILL BE IN ITALICS.
Thanks for reading. I know it's harder for darker fics to get support but I'm feeling the love! Thank you.
Nux rushed the boy over to the hightower medical center, a small previously-storage room that hosted the only people with any medical knowledge at all: Remedy and her small team of reformed Wrecthed. Nux offered the boy linen pants, ones that most of the officials in the tower and beyond wore to bed. The boy wore them now, walking slowly with Nux, meeting the gazes of his fellow War Boys on his way out. Nux left Bones in charge.
Remedy saw him right away, shaking, too hot. First she noticed the painful stitching over his mouth, then the scars on his body. She'd been shocked, and it took a lot to shock Remedy, who dealt with the illnesses of the Wretched.
Upon making eye contact with her, though, the boy stopped shuffling into the curtained room. Nux tried to guide him in so Remedy could inspect him, but he planted himself in the opening of the curtains. His eyes wide, his breathing heavy, he tried to lurch backward, only to be blocked by Nux.
"She's the one who's gonna help you," Nux said, trying to ignore the bustling around them.
I thought you were going to help me.
Remedy maintained her steady gaze with the boy who was being pushed gently into the room. She made no attempt to comfort him, not sure how to really go about it considering she was just standing there in the first place. She struggled with being warm, the opposite of a true maternal figure, making a better doctor than midwife.
"Sit," Nux patted gently on the linen sheets that lined a small bed there, his words barely audible.
The boy did, shifting his weight from his aching legs. He appreciated it, though still bug-eyed at Remedy. She moved to touch his face, his mouth, when he snapped his head back, almost hitting the wall behind him.
"What are you doing?" Nux grabbed the back of the boy's head. At this, he began to breathe heavily again. Nux released him, Remedy backed away, and he was calm again.
Nux looked at Remedy, incredulous. What was the matter with him? He didn't seem to mind Nux touching him before.
"My name is Remedy," she said diplomatically, but not frigidly. "I'm here to help you, I can take some of your pain away."
The boy stared.
"I need you to let me help you, though," she reached up again, slowly, her movements obvious. The boy trembled, his throat bobbing as he swallowed saliva he didn't have, but let her touch him with Nux's amiable encouragement. She was gentle, skimming only the black rubber that laced his mouth. Someone had laced them through the skin of his lips, melting the ends together again to keep the boy from opening his mouth.
"I can remove these for you."
The boy seemed unfazed. Nux was confused. This boy, downtrodden as he was, seemed like he would have appreciated all the help he could get.
Remedy nodded to him, he remaining unblinking. She turned to retrieve her tools from a drawer, a soft thud following now as the drawer closed. She held a pair of scissors, making very slow movements that the boy followed carefully, and snipped one thick stitch between his lips. Another, another, another. The last one.
His lips parted now, he reached up to touch the space created from his open mouth, tongue to his finger now, seemingly amazed that he could do such a thing. The rubber still hung loosely in his skin.
Remedy began to remove the rubber with salvaged medical pliers, the skin having begun to attach itself to them. But it wasn't too far gone, only snagging as the thick rubber was extracted and set on a metal table beside them.
Nux turned to leave, not seeing a real reason to be there. He'd done his job, he was compassionate; Capable would be proud of him, he thought. But the boy lifted his hand weakly, plopping it against the bed below him. He tapped three times on it, catching Nux's attention. Tapping meant help would come.
So Nux stayed.
Remedy inspected the scar on his throat, then on his chest. It was a branding, similar to the Citadel crest that marked the back of her neck, but larger as it crossed the breadth of his chest.
"Rutboy," she said aloud.
The boy's eyes widened. His breathing hitched. He obviously didn't like the sound of it. Remedy apologized, choosing only to run her finger along the scars, then the "X"s on his side. He was visibly uncomfortable, as if she was touching his privates, but kept still. The boy tasted his lips again and again, his jaw opening and closing, something he seemed to not have done in a while. His teeth were in bad shape.
"I can't do anything more for him," Remedy confessed. "Get him some water and rest, a shower, and see how he does. He doesn't have any visible deformations, I don't deal with mental ones."
At the word "water", the boy's head jerked in the same way it had for "Citadel". There was no drinkable water in the makeshift doctor's office, after some distasteful members of the Wretched had stolen it one too many times.
Feeling the holes in his lips, disinfected and cleaned, the boy was led up a tall staircase to the residencies of the Dignitaries as well as the Sisters. Halfway through the climb the boy's legs gave out after a wiggle and followed by a thud, forcing Nux to carry him. The boy was younger than him, not by much, though he was much smaller. He must have been malnourished as a child. In his small stature he was easy to carry, his legs dangling, eyes scanning Nux's chest scars.
Reaching the main foyer of the bedrooms on the top floor of the hightower, he saw the soft silhouette of the Dag, unmistakable in her lean elegance. He pushed aside the curtain with his shoulder, her eyes meeting his, then the boy draped over Nux's arms. The boy shifted, seeing the Dag, his eyes wide. His breathing hitched once more, nervous.
"Get him some water," Nux asked. The Dag nodded, wispy in nature, and glided to the small reservoir they shared. As she gathered a cup for him, Nux moved the boy to his and Capable's bedroom, not sure where else to keep him. He lay him on his bed, making sure his head was propped up on a pillow. Capable had done the same with him when he first received treatment from Remedy, for his own illness.
The Dag followed shortly after, distressing the boy once more. Though she held a glass of obviously much needed clean water, he struggled away from her, pushing blankets out of the way. Nux grabbed his shoulders to steady him, though he never stopped staring, wide-eyed at the very unassuming Dag.
"What a strange, beautiful creature..." she murmured. "What happened to you?"
With her voice, his breathing began to settle slightly. Nux noticed, though, grabbing the water from Dag's slender hand. She moved down then, on her knees, to meet his gaze closely.
"A precious child," she continued. The boy, still visibly stressed, his fists clenching the blankets and his brow furrowed, stopped moving from her. "What cruelty you must know.
Nux offered the glass to him, obviously a powerful motivation, for he broke his gaze with the Dag to grab the glass and close his eyes, letting the water flow down this dry, unused throat.
"Slowly, now, or it'll come back up," Nux had known this feeling all too well after finally receiving his water ration after a week of running on empty. He was addicted to water, so terribly addicted.
The boy looked up to Nux and did slow down. He understood what those around him said, he just never responded in words. Nux didn't know if he couldn't, or didn't.
The Dag reached out to rest her hand on the pillow his head delved into. The boy choked on his water now, surprised and scared.
Blood, filling my throat. I'm going to die, I should die. How can I live like this?
Nux took the glass from him, concerned, as the boy flinched. He coughed, the noise extremely unpleasant, not like a normal cough. It gurgled, it was pained. Nux's gut hurt hearing such a tortuous noise, and placed his hand on his back. He hadn't heard a cough like that, even from the boys of the engine room where fumes had embedded deep in their lungs and came back up as black sludge.
"It's okay," the Dag droned, her voice as soft as silk from days passed, "I won't hurt you."
For anyone to assume that the Dag would hurt them was ridiculous to Nux. Her ethereal, maternal presence did nothing but confuse people as she would often singsong unrelated input or observations. But the boy was fearful, very, though he grabbed the glass again and drank, his eyes glued to the Dag's slim hand.
Her voice did seem to have a very calming effect on him, seeming to negate the fear he felt around her presence.
"Did you do anything to him? In the Before times?" Nux looked up to the Dag now, astonished by his accusation.
"I've never seen this boy in my life."
Nux turned away from the boy again to try and find more clothes for him, to cover the branding on his chest, Dag's answer making sense. He didn't see the boy finish his water, some escaping from the holes that dotted his lips, looking towards Nux for more. The Dag did, though, but was interested to see that the boy had reached from the bed, gripping Nux's pants. Nux stopped, feeling three soft tugs on his pants.
Tapping brings him to me.
Nux noticed how far the boy had suspended his body to grab him, and grabbed the boy's hand to keep him from falling in his weakened state. Nux felt a strange rush course his way through his gut, warm and tense. In guiding the boy back to his bed, holding his neck so his head didn't wilt, Nux feels the wave center, pull, tug three times.
"Can you get him more water?" Nux held the cup up to the Dag. His brown eyes seemed to regain life with the water. Nux wondered if all he needed was to be watered. He had seemed fine aside from the scars and his behavior, and as Remedy said, he had no growths or tumors like the other boys that inhabited the Citadel.
The Dag returned with the water, and also a small plate of strawberries. Nux learned he really enjoyed "strawberries" after the Dag had insisted he try one from the garden she fostered. This time, the boy was calm, leaning back down into Nux's bed. He laid on Nux's side.
"These are called strawberries," Nux held one of the berries up to the boy's face. "They taste real good. Do you wanna try one?"
The boy's eyes remained glued on the water.
Nux smiled. "Moved too quickly, I guess. Leave 'em on the table."
After another glass of water, Nux sitting on the edge of the bed, the boy had allowed Dag to touch his hand, his face, but not his chest. He seemed comfortable with her now as she mumbled sweetness into his skin. His eyes were as soft as her voice.
Nux was happy to see him relax around the Dag. It meant he felt safe there, under Nux's blankets.
The rush returned.
Three tugs.
He breathed out, holding in a breath he didn't know he had held in.
Dag stood now, the boy's eyes following her. He made no attempt to touch her, but did blink slowly after she announced she had to tend to the garden, and left. Nux and the boy shared silence.
"Do you have a name?" Nux offered, moving to sit closer to him so he could speak softly. The boy seemed to like it.
Nothing. Just a soft stare.
"Did you like the water?" Nux grinned slightly, barely noticeable.
The boy nodded three times.
He definitely understood Nux. He just didn't know how to respond.
"You can talk to me," Nux urged. "I wanna know your name."
The boy raised his hand, shaky still, resting it against Nux's knee. After stopping there, he moved it again, raising his head now, and traced the red, angry scar that embedded deep into the skin of his throat.
Nux's mouth lay agape. "You... you can't?"
The boy nodded.
The rush returned to Nux, starting in his chest, angry now. "Who did that to you?"
No response.
He couldn't respond.
Of course not.
Nux breathed deeply, raising a careful hand to run his fingers along the scar. Whoever had done this to him must have also mutilated the rest of him. He was furious, his rage kept inside so as to not scare the boy, but frightened Nux instead. He'd seen his own boys mutilate themselves, their brothers- hell, he'd scarred himself. Why was he so angry at the scars that littered the boy's skin?
A knock came to the door, startling the both of them. They had taken advantage of the mutual silence.
Nux got up from the bed, announced his inevitable return, and left the room, talking to whoever had knocked. The door closed with a soft click.
The boy tapped the mattress below three times before his eyes closed, peaceful for the first time that he could remember.
The metal columns dug into his arms, stretched out from his sides, his wrists chained to beams in the ceiling. A crucifixion.
His legs were spread as he stood on the cold floor, so cold, unfeeling, yet so hot with the blood of others. It burned his soles. The bracer between his legs, affixed to his ankles, was a tad too wide, making him almost dangle from the metal columns and forcing him to stand on his toes to avoid the pain in his underarms. His mouth was muzzled, a cage surrounding his already sewn mouth; it smelled like rust and spit. Rabid.
He breathed heavily, the large man towering over him, his chest wider than his whole being. The man reached down to disengage the metal chastity that bound him, a rush of relief following for a brief moment before the man grabbed it in his rough hand. He wanted to cry out, but no sound came out. It never did. Doomed to silence. Think twice.
Crying now, from a woman in the distance. The boy knew what was to come, what he was going to do. He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to close off his ears from the dreadful pleas and screams of the woman who was coming closer to him now.
"What a degenerate," the man boomed from above him, "getting hard from the hand of a man."
He felt the man's spit splatter against his roasting forehead. It dripped, mingling with the strands of hair that stung his eyes, his eyebrows. He wanted to cry, but he had learned his lesson the first time he did so.
The woman was there now, seeing him, crying harder. She was a virgin, she cried. There were others, she pleaded. Spare me, please. Anyone else.
She was bent over by rippling arms and strung up in restraints, forcing her legs to be spread, her back bent, her head hanging. She cried. She cried so loudly.
He'd never forget the sound.
She was gored, his cleaver so hot and full despite his greatest desire for it not to be. She cried again, then again as he was pulled back at the hips by large hands, then again as he was thrust forward. She was quiet now, broken, silenced. The boy still cried though, inside, damned to eternal silence even in Valhalla.
"Hurry up, boy," the man thundered. "I'm getting tired."
He was nervous though, his skewer feeling hot from the woman bleeding fire around it. Her head hung weakly, bobbing with each thrust. He needed to badly to apologize. He needed so badly to escape.
Soon, though, he couldn't take it any more, his primal desires overcoming his morality. He knew this feeling well, one he hated, feeling his humanity slip from him as he expelled. The man had dragged his hips out from the woman as he disgorged.
"Stupid fuck!" he called, rushing to the front of the boy. He scooped up the boy's inkling, breathing heavily, and stuffed it into her, rough, quickly. She cried again, her head picking up. He did it again, the scrape of fingernails against concrete, keeping his fingers inside until he was satisfied they would implant.
"You better hope that works, boy," the man growled. The boy's eyes looked only towards the woman, his cock going soft. He was thankful. He'd be put back into chastity, guaranteeing a quick release for next time, but at least he wasn't expected to do this any longer.
The woman was released from her bondage, falling to the ground before she was roughly dragged up by stone arms, dragging her along the concrete as they took her away from him. He never knew where they went. They always looked the same, though, like rag dolls from times passed with red wounds on their knees, legs.
Soon he, too, was released, the man grabbing his upper arm and pulling him towards his bunk. He yearned for it, to curl up and forget. Forget what he never could.
"Try pulling that shit again and I'll cut it clean off," the man scolded before he slammed the metal door behind him.
The boy knew he wouldn't.
They needed it. It was all they needed from him, all he was good for.
The boy woke with a start. He breathed heavy, his chest heaving, the woman's cries pushing him down into the bed below him as he crashed down into it. He felt himself heave forward, fighting off the pressure, the memories. It wasn't his bunk, he remembered then. He remembered what he couldn't forget.
A strong pair of arms pinned him down, shocking him and scaring him. Though... a soft shushing began to drown out the cries, the pleasing cushion of the noise buffing him from the harshness of his mind like white noise.
He opened his eyes to find Nux hovering over him, concerned, shushing, his thumbs rubbing his shoulders. Capable had done the same for him many nights as he woke with the fevers. The boy settled, his breathing slowing, his pupils growing. Comfort. Back to the comfortable place. With Nux.
"It's okay," Nux comforted, his voice soothing like the cool blankets around his arms, "I get nightmares too."
The boy leaned back down into the bed. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw her.
Her hair red as fire, her eyes green as the places he'd dream of.
The prominent features of her face twisted in concern.
He stared only a moment before the panic set in.
"He gets like this around women," Nux explained, sitting next to the boy and forcing his shaking head into his shoulder.
Capable nodded. "I can leave."
"No. He got used to Dag, you just need to talk to him and touch him."
"Touch him? Look at him, he can barely look at me."
"Just try it."
Capable moved closer to the boy, his body tensing more and more. He felt restricted by Nux's arms, his head squeezed.
A metal cage around his face.
He panicked heavily now, releasing painful sounds from his severed throat. Nux released him after his struggle became too much, his noises disturbing.
Bondage released.
He flung himself out of bed, almost kicking Nux in the process. Realizing he was only getting closer to Capable, he scrambled back, the back of his knees buckling into the mattress and forcing him to fall back. He scrambled into the blankets, quick, get away, get away, quick.
He curled into a fetal position similar to the one Nux had found him in.
"I'm sorry," Nux said. Capable was shocked at him calmness, the compassion in his voice. "I shouldn't have held you like that." She'd said this to him before as he got too hot, the fevers too much, to bear someone holding him even in comfort.
No movement.
"What happened to him?" Capable stayed firmly planted in her position, not wanting to aggravate the problem. She was astonished by the boy in front of her; he was so... damaged, it seemed. The poor thing, so small and fragile.
"We don't know. He's got all these scars on him, big branded one on his chest, but he doesn't like when we bring it up," Nux explained. Capable looked at the boy who scattered the blankets in all which way around the bed. The pillow had ended up by her feet.
She bent to pick it up. "Capable, just talk to him. He totally once-over'd with Dag."
She sighed. She wasn't like the Dag, though. She was tender, but she wasn't wistful, she wasn't ultra-feminine. In her time with the Pups, she had thickened; her muscles adapted to the rough games they played, carrying them, throwing them and catching them. Her thighs touched, her arms toned. Dag was thin, ethereal, like she could blow away in the desert wind with her outlandish words.
"Trust me."
Her gaze shot to him, his arm cradled over the fleshy mass on the bed. The words squeezed her chest. She did trust him. She trusted him so heavily, it wasn't safe. She'd trusted before, and it was betrayed. She risked her life for Nux every day, trusting him.
She nodded.
"Hello," she put on her best breathy, lovely voice, sweet. "My name is Capable. I'm um, I'm with Nux, and you seem to like him..."
Nux nodded, encouraging.
"I work with the war Pups down in the bunks. They're like, young boys that we used to raise to be War Boys, but now that there's little need for battle fodder..." Capable smiled, moving closer to the boy. "Well, they just like to play now. I think you'd like to watch them, Nux does."
Capable wasn't blind to the way Nux stroked the boy's head like she had stroked his lips, or the way his arm lay lightly over the emaciated curves of the boy, his thumb moving in little circles through the boy's trembling muscles. It captivated her. It had taken so long for her to receive an affection even similar to this; Furiosa had been in power for two years now, and only one of those she and Nux had been intimate. Now, this boy was the product of all he'd picked up from her, little circles.
The boy simmered, the heat of his body cooling, little circles.
"You met Dag, um, she's really great. She takes care of plants. She grows most of our food, growing our inventory there. There's the other Sisters... have you met them?"
Nux nodded no, answering for the boy whose hands now reached up to Nux's.
"Ah, well um, there's Toast. And Cheedo. There's Furiosa, she's like our sister... well, none of us are actually sisters and it's more of a..."
The young boy's head reared, allowing him to look up to her with parted lips. She was still uncomfortable seeing the holes in his face, despite studying his face as he slept. He was so pure beside them, his skin unmarked by the sun, pale.
"Hi," she peeped. She wasn't sure how to handle the boy's brown eyes on hers, unmoving, unblinking. She smiled a sheepish smile, Nux following her, and the boy looked away. He was breathing normally now. His dirty hair fell in front of his face.
"You should bathe him," she suggested. He was sandblasted, his young skin dirty but plump.
"Do you want to clean up?" Nux offered to the boy. No response. "Take a shower? A bath?"
At "bath" he perked. His throat bobbed again. He knew what it was. Then, a slow nod to Nux.
"You should take a shower instead. Have you ever seen one? A shower?" Capable asked.
The boy looked to her now. She was pained by the force in his stare. He shook his head. She knew he couldn't speak, courtesy of Nux's careful, doting reporting of the boy. She noticed the attention he paid, so close. Unlike him, but pleasing.
"They're so shiny," Nux said with excitement. The boy didn't react, probably unsure what Nux's slang meant. "They're warm, but not like the wasteland. They clean you better than a bath, it's real nice. I promise. I'll show you, come on."
The boy understood Nux, following him as he shuffled off the bed. Nux stood next to Capable, watching the boy steady on his feet. He held onto the edge of the bed, getting a feel for walking, only to realize Nux was so close to Capable and stopped. He was nervous again.
"It's alright," Nux encouraged. He wrapped his hand around Capable's waist. The boy's eyes followed his hand, then stepped towards the pair. He was close to Capable now, his breathing steady with great effort. But he could do it.
She stared at his chest now, the branding visible when it wasn't before.
"RUTBOY"
What did that mean? She knew what rutting was, but did it...? It couldn't mean that. It must be some slang for something else where he's from. It didn't make sense.
The boy followed Nux out of the bedroom and into their bathroom. Capable was moved by the boy's progress, just her voice calming him. She changed the sheets, hearing commotion in the foyer behind her. Doors opening, almost slamming.
"Where is he?" a familiar voice called from the hall.
"Nux and Capable's room," the soft voice of the Dag responded.
Capable opened the door, knowing Furiosa would be entering anyway. The two looked at her, Furiosa diplomatic and the Dag curious.
"Can I see him?" Furiosa approached her, her complete garb on. She had come for business.
"He's in the shower," she responded. Why was she so worried?
"Nux?"
"He's with him."
Furiosa shot her a confused look.
"The kid can barely hold himself up on two feet, he needed help."
Furiosa nodded.
"It was very commendable of Nux to rescue him," Furiosa's commanding voice now soft, friendly. "From what I hear from Remedy and Dag... he's in rough shape."
"He's... traumatized. From what, I have no idea."
"That's what I'm here for."
Capable tilted her head. Furiosa started to head into the room, Capable moving to the side.
"I've got word from Marcus of the Bullet Factory," she began to explain, "that there was missing 'cargo' from his last 'bullet shipment'." She spat, obviously stressed.
Cargo?
"The boy..." Capable breathed,
"He seemed very... passionate, about the 'cargo' in the wreck that Nux and his boys scrapped. He made it sound like the steel that Nux brought back, but they didn't take all of it, not even close. Not enough to request diplomatic discourse."
"What's that?"
"Big 'Immortan Joe' words for 'you took something that wasn't yours, give it back'. You can start it over anything, including scrap, but it's just improbable. I wanted to see him, to see what this 'cargo' might look like, after Dag heard me talking to my advisers about it," Furiosa looked visibly agitated. She'd been upset by the idea of human cargo.
"He doesn't like women," Capable said, the sound of the shower water plopping against the tub floor still prominent in the bedroom.
"The Dag went on and on about how sweet he was to her."
"He doesn't like to be around women. He's fine with Nux, and when the Dag and I spoke to him, calmed him down, he seemed better. But he panics, he gets so scared."
Furiosa looked down. She knew those symptoms, she'd experienced and seen them herself.
"Remedy told me about his scars," Furiosa confirmed. "I think you and I both know what a 'rutboy' is by now."
Capable hadn't wanted to believe it, considering it was so improbable, but she had to consider the thought.
"Why would the Bullet Farm need men to... rut?" the word tasted ill in her mouth. "There's plenty of men, just not enough women."
"That's what I'd like to investigate," Furiosa looked out the window of the bedroom, small but with a clear view west.
"We can all help," Capable offered.
"I need to prove it. I need him to confirm our suspicions. Without confirmation, Marcus will just take him and claim property advantage, we'll never see him again. If he tells us what happened to him, we can look into whatever is going on over there, and we can stop it."
"He can't talk. His throat's been cut. He screams and nothing comes out," she said, remembering the way he had "screamed" as he thrashed his way out of the nightmare.
Furiosa turned, incredulous at Capable's words.
"Great," her jaw clenched.
"He can nod, though. But I think he's just afraid right now."
Furiosa and Capable both heard the shower's water stop, the pattering coming to a halt. Nux chuckled something, his words muffled, but Furiosa knew it was time to leave.
"Then make him not afraid. See how he communicates. I'm keeping him a secret, do not let anyone other than Remedy or the sisters know about him," Furiosa stepped close to Capable, her gaze strong, letting Capable know that she meant nothing but ultimate seriousness.
Capable nodded, understanding.
"I know you can do it."
Furiosa left, the door closing behind her. Capable considered following her, but decided against it.
"See how he communicates"? How was she supposed to do that? The kid could barely stand the sight of her, how was she supposed to handle getting some sort of explanation out of him?
The duo emerged from the bathroom, both in bath towels hanging low on their hips. The boy gazed at Capable, unafraid, his skin dewy. She was comforted by that, maybe it would be easier than she thought to get some answers out of him.
When she looked down at his chest, he noticed, and plucked the towel from his waist to cover the branded scar.
Maybe not.
