No, no, no. Party knew exactly how bad it could go, disobeying Korse or even trying to fight back. Kobra cried out as Korse's fist connected with his ribs. The scream tore through Party's ears to his brain. Automatically, his brain interpreted it as a 'painful expression from Mikey Way, his dearest brother'.

Korse's blade once again cut opened Kobra's old arm wound and proceeded to cut open his jacket. He tore it apart with exaggerated movement and faked a considering look as he mercifully, carefully, avoided touching Kobra's cracked ribs.
Kobra was now naked from his waist upwards. His eyes cast aside to the white floor in pure shame. His pride had been ripped off along with his precious, red jacket.

Party could clearly see Kobra's chest rise and fall unsteadily in unease. He felt tears forming in his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall though, it was still early, far too early.

The cold blade slid through Kobra's torso, leaving only pink scratches on the sensitive, white skin, but enough to make Kobra twitch in discomfort, enough to make Korse smile.
Korse did it at an incredibly slow pace and enjoyed every second of the process.

Party turned his head away from the scene in shame, only to be rewarded with a cut-off cry when Korse pressed down the blade harder on Kobra's stomach and sent the other hand to grip on Kobra's throat.
'Come on, let your brother see how pathetic you are.' Korse smirked.
'You don't want to die, do you? Hurry up, and convince your brother to save you from dying.'

Kobra shook his head firmly in protest, his face turning unusually red, limbs struggling hard, only getting weaker and weaker beneath Korse as the air slowly forced its way out of Kobra's lungs.

'Stop it, you sick bastard! You're gonna kill him!'
Party shouted at the wall and banged it loudly.
Korse answered the red-haired man with a big smile and tightened his grip as Kobra closed his eyes and choked one last time before all his movement died down into a horrifying, complete, silence.

'I'll talk, I'll talk, Korse, just, stop...'
Party's voice trailed off with a sob as he realised that Korse couldn't really hear him at all.
Korse released Kobra's throat, standing up wiping his palm on his white trousers as if he had just finally gotten rid off a dirty, dead Killjoy, 'I think I took my wrestling sessions alright.' He murmured, and yelled,
'He ain't dead yet, just warning, Party.'

'Sorry, Kobra. I'm terribly sorry. I, I just can't give him what he want. Will you ever forgive me? No, no, don't, just, blame me. Open up your fucking eyes and blame me for everything that Korse did to you. Blame me, please.'
Party dropped his head between his knees as he sat against the wall.
He's not going to kill him. If he did then he would lose his bet. My little brother would not be killed. At least he would be kept alive. Was this making things any better? So far it was, or it wasn't?

Kobra woke up in the cool evening with a shiver. Korse must had taken away his jacket when he left. He lay on his side, knees pulled up to his chin because of the coldness around his bare upper torso. In the BL/ind prison at the edge of the city and the desert, everything was hot during the day and in contrast, extremely cold during the night.

Kobra brought a hand to his throat, which was probably going to be dark purple tomorrow, and took in a large amount of air. He'd missed his lunch, and he wondered if Party got no lunch, either, because of him-if the BL/ind prison provided any lunch at all. The two little pieces of toast had gone long before noon when Korse came and checked on him.

He was starving.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and looked across to find Party staring at his direction. Party raised a brow when Kobra noticed him and moved to the wall that separated them.
'You're okay?' Party mouthed.
Kobra hesitated before nodding softly and crawled to the wall, keeping his palm on his ribs for support. The coldness intensified. He stopped in front of the wall, not willing to touch the icy-cold glass wall. His shiver had now become uncontrollable and clearly visible to Party no matter how hard he tried to hide it away. He looked up with some effort, and saw Party shaking his head softly and there were tears shining in Party's eyes.
'Don't be, Party.' He whispered to himself, 'It's not your fault, Party.'

'Second meal!' A Drac yelled and almost threw down the two plates into the cells with impatience. Great, so two meals a day was confirmed. With shaky hands, Kobra reached for the food which he had desperately needed the energy from. The Drac smirked under his mask. Instead of turning away, it stayed, and waited.

Party looked at the Drac suspiciously, didn't move to get his tray of food.
What? Was Korse playing some mind game with them? Was there poison in the food? No, that was not possible, Korse wouldn't want us to die. Even if he would, still, not like this, not that easy. Out of his own thoughts, Party noticed that Kobra was chewing and swallowing quickly.
He knocked the wall, 'Kobra, slow the fuck down. You're gonna choke if you don't.'
Kobra turned to look at Party and swallowed down his last bite of the toast. The Drac made sure that Kobra finished his meal and left.

Party started to eat only then, slowly and carefully taking the bites. The toast was dry and over-toasted. He unintentionally grabbed for his new can of water, then it hit home.
Kobra hadn't got any water yet.

As soon as he realised this, he again saw the hunger look at his water can from his brother.
Kobra didn't try to turn away this time, instead, his eyes were fixed on the can in Party's hands, almost pleading.
Party's hands froze in the air, feeling the unease to bring the can to his lips under Kobra's watch.

Kobra got the hint and immediately turned to his back, not wanting to disturb his big brother. He lay down on the floor and tried to block out the thirst. He was not cold anymore, but thirsty. There was a burning sensation in his throat. He swallowed a few times, but his mouth was just as dry as the desert outside.

'Kobra's finished his meal, sir.' The Drac reported.
'Good, and how is he feeling, anything?' Korse demanded.
'He was cold and trembling, but not anymore, sir.' The Drac replied instantly.
'Good, very good.' Korse nodded thoughtfully as he watched the monitor. 'Prepare the tools for the midnight.' Korse ordered.
The Drac with an immediate 'Yes, sir!' hurried off. Korse watched the Drac go then announced, 'Game on, Kid. Show me your venom if you still have any left.'