He woke to pain and stiffness. His skin was flushed pink with fever, another sign of weakness. He was restrained, but could still look down to see bandaged crisscrossing his thin chest. Most of what he could see-though dirty- was white. Most of the damage had been on his back after all. There was another bandage on his thigh, hiding the brand while it healed. He growled, knowing he would have to hurt himself worse to remove the mark from his body.
"I am glad you are awake Brother," he flinched at the sound of his captor's voice. He no longer corrected the man, too tired to argue. Tired of fighting. It was only fear that kept him going now. Fear of losing what little he had left of himself. The man had no idea what his prisoner had given up to keep them both alive. He had no clue of what would happen if his prisoner gave in and joined him. He repeated his demand, "Join me brother."
"I can't." A brow was raised at the change in his mantra, but he didn't elaborate. A cool metal ring pressed against the fleshy underside of his jaw, forcing him to look up and strain his neck in an attempt to avoid the barrel pressing uncomfortably against it. He stayed silent as he heard a soft click, knowing it may very well be one of the last two sounds he would hear in his life. He barely noticed the metal withdraw from his skin before there was a sharp report and the acrid smell of discharged gunpowder filled the room. He screamed when his shoulder sent alarms up to his brain, his shoulder blade and clavicle ruptured by the metal slug's passage. He writhed helplessly against his bonds, seeking relief from the agony and unable to bring his undamaged arm to press against it like instincts screamed.
"You can end this brother," the man begged quietly, hoping his agonised prisoner would accept his proposal. He was met with soft sobs, his prisoner unable to hold back tears. It broke his heart to see his big brother like this, but it was for the best. He just wanted the best for his big brother, "Just agree to join me and the pain will stop."
"No..." he sobbed, shaking his head. The barrel was pressed to his wounded shoulder. The roar of thunder was drowned out by the agonised wail of the prisoner. His already broken shoulder, further damaged by the second bullet, shrieked in protest. But, despite the pain, he still shook his head. His voice shrill with histeria and agony, he begged for it to end.
"You just have to say one little word brother," the Captor's voice was soothing; hypnotic in its wanted to agree. He wanted the pain to end. But as tears fell and his chest heaved with sobs, he shook his head and looked away. The Captor sighed apologetically, "Then I'm sorry brother."
Fours shots rang out in quick succession; each accompanied by cried of pain that grew ever more shrill. The prisoner sobbed quietly, still conscious, but in so much pain. The Captor finally removed the restraints, but he was too hurt to curl up like he wanted to. He whimpered as he was moved to sit and his captor slowly began to reset the shattered bones; picking out the shards with clumsy hands better suited to carpentry than medicine. He looked at the man, dull eyes shattered by the betrayal of blood, and closed them, letting himself fall into peaceful oblivion.
"I hope you give in before I have to do worse brother," the man whispered softly, sadly, as he got up to retrieve a fresh roll of bandaged. His big brother needed a bath and a haircut soon. His saggy hair was getting long and he was starting to smell like bad blood. He sighed, wondering how long it would be until he would stop fighting the inevitable, "I'm doing this for your own good."
