Brock was scrolling through channels, searching for the very specific one. When he found it, he smirked, clicking on the channel and turning up the TV in the living room to full volume. Everyone was spaced out around the house doing something or the other, only Evan was constantly in one spot: his room. Evan was fine, and had been awake and moaning by the time they all got back to Lui's place after the big heist in El Capitan. Moving him from the car to the house had been a very funny swearing match between Evan, David, and Tyler, who were carrying him.
Now it was a week later. They had made some serious bank, there had not been an attack in a whole week, they had lived through their first year of Renegades, and it was almost Christmas.
Speaking of Christmas…
"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" the song began, and Brock heard a collective groan from the kitchen.
"Brock! I'll be singing this crap all night!" David scowled, leaning out of the door, oven mitts on his hands and an apron tied around his waist. He was helping Alexa cook, why she trusted him though Brock couldn't get his head around.
"It's festive, David!" Brock retorted, frowning as he swooped up his glass of champagne and headed back towards the kitchen. "No need to get so salty about a little music."
Jack Frost nipping at your nose…
"I'm with David here," Alexa cut in. Her back was turned to Brock, but she was wearing the same thing as he: apron but no oven mitt. She turned around, wiping her hands on her apron front and raising an eyebrow. "I love Christmas as much as the sap, but this song…"
"I'm not changing it," Brock pointed his little finger at her warningly, but it was all in good humor. They didn't mind the song, Brock knew it the moment they started humming along.
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir…
"Who is the motherfucker who turned on Christmas music?" Tyler shouted, stomping into the kitchen with tinsel wrapped around his neck like a scarf and antlers on his head. Jonathan followed him, grinning from ear to ear, antlers on his head, waving more.
"Brock," Alexa and David in unison, casually nodding their heads at him as the continued cooking. Brock held up his hands in self defense.
"I can explain…?" Brock giggled. Tyler advanced on him, but instead took his glass of champagne, winked, and backed up as Jonathan jumped in an attached antlers to Brock's head.
And folks dressed up like Eskimos…
"That's your punishment," Jonathan and Tyler laughed as Brock scowled at the two before turning back to the open bottle of champagne on the table. He poured himself and Jonathan a glass each, handing Jonathan's to him and clinking his glass against the other two's. Jonathan went over to Alexa next, slipping antlers onto her head and dodging the wooden spoon she swung at him in the process.
"You seen Brian?" Brock asked, taking a sip.
"Busy with my boyfriend, probably," Tyler rolled his eyes, drinking. Both of them spluttered a laugh into their drink as they imagined that.
"Where is Lui, David?" Tyler asked, turning to David with a mischievous grin. He was half expecting David to say he was busy with Brian and Craig.
"Still in the closet," David chuckled. That made the entire kitchen erupt in laughter.
Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe…
Lui appeared in the door, squeaking "you guys talking shit about me, huh?" before heading to the table and pouring himself a glass of champagne.
"Minors can't drink!" Jonathan shouted, swooping in and taking Lui's glass. Lui punched him, making Jonathan laugh his signature laugh and hand the glass back.
"Like you can talk," Lui mumbled into his glass as he drank.
Help to make the season bright…
"I'm twenty-nine, excuse you," Jonathan snickered, drinking his own glass.
"As far as Brock and I are concerned," Lui grinned, elbowing Brock in the side. "You guys are all babies."
Brock and Lui laughed, clinking glasses together. Lui raised a hand to his head as he felt Jonathan slip antlers onto his head, but didn't protest. Everyone now had antlers.
"Jonathan were did you find these stupid antlers?" David asked, touching his own pair.
Jonathan laughed. "When we went out Christmas decoration shopping the other day," he replied, taking another sip and pulling something else from the box of Christmas "horrors".
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow…
Brock followed Jonathan with his eyes as he sneaked over to the kitchen doorframe and—using duck tape— attached a green thread with some white flowers to the end of it in the door frame. When Brock understood what it was, he groaned.
"Jonathan, you little shit," Brock laughed, taking in the fake mistletoe Jonathan had just tapped to the doorframe. Everyone in the kitchen turned, and groaned as well, calling Jonathan every name under the sun.
"You guys will thank me later," Jonathan winked, tugging on Tyler's arm and exiting with Tyler in tow to wreak havoc on the rest of the house.
Will find it hard to sleep tonight…
The coffee machine binged then, and Alexa broke away from hovering over the oven to pouring herself a cup of coffee, dumping two shots of whiskey in it, and then four spoons of freshly whipped cream into it. Brock caught her eye, and she winked.
"Irish coffee?" She offered. Brock nodded enthusiastically, and Alexa poured him one.
From the stairs, Brock heard the sounds of running feat and shouting. Alexa rolled her eyes, walking to the doorframe and leaning out.
"Did I forget to mention coffee is ready?" She called
They know that Santa's on his way…
Brian and Craig came bolting through the doorway, both coming to a screeching halt and smiled eagerly at Alexa. She burst out laughing.
"Could you guys look anymore desperate right now?"
"We fucking paused the live stream so we could get this Irish Coffee shit you mentioned earlier, you are not turning us down now," Brian glared. Alexa sneered at him, but smiled, pouring him and Craig one each.
Brock smiled as he caught Brian's eye, and held out an arm for Brian to fall into while he waited. Brian took it, and wrapped his own arms around Brock's neck in a long hug.
He'd loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh…
"Did you not see the thing in the doorway?" Brock asked innocently, pulling back from Brian a small bit and smirking at him. Brian blinked, confused. Brock pointed at the mistletoe behind them, and Brian's eyes widened as he laughed.
"Does that mean I have to kiss Craig?" Brian asked, glancing back and winking at Craig who also just now noticing the mistletoe.
Brock laughed, "that wasn't the guy I had in mind…"
Before Brock could say anything, Alexa handed both coffees to Craig, who started to back out the door.
"Come on Brian! I'm gonna drink your coffee if you don't—" Craig was cut short by someone wrapping their arms around Craig's waist and spinning him. Tyler.
And every mother's child is gonna spy…
Tyler kissed Craig gently, Craig closing his eyes as he realized what was going on and Jonathan taking the coffee out of Craig's hands before he could drop them. In the kitchen, Alexa and David hooted while Brock and Brian clapped, Brian shouting "finally!"
When Tyler let him go, he wrapped an arm around Craig's shoulders, whispering to him "you're not going back up there," and silencing Craig's protests with another kiss.
Brian smirked, turning to Brock and kissing him quickly on the lips. "I'm going to go shut down the live stream. I better catch you under that mistletoe next," Brian winked before darting out the quickly crowding kitchen, taking his coffee with him.
To see if reindeer really know how to fly…
"I checked on Evan, he's still asleep, and still alive," Jonathan told David, as he grabbed an Irish coffee and drank from it too. Alexa had made some for everyone know, and Brock grabbed his own.
"He won't still be asleep if you keep pestering him all the time," David retorted. "And you know he needs to sleep."
Lui appeared beside David, leaning his back against the countertop and holding out his Irish coffee for David to drink. David smiled at him, taking it and taking a long drink from the mug before handing it back. Lui snickered, and mumbled to David he had a cream mustache.
And so I'm offering this simple phrase…
Brian came bouncing back into the kitchen now, but stayed framed in the doorway, under the mistletoe. Brock rolled his eyes, placing his drink down on the table and sauntering over to Brian. Brian smirked back, wrapping his arms around Brock's neck again and pressing his nose against Brock's.
"I like you…a lot," Brian whispered, smiling. Brock smiled, starring at his partner's eyes and how large they were. His smile turned to a smirk as he got an idea.
Brock swung Brian around, tipping him down and holding him tightly with one hand on his back and the other caressing his cheek. Brian's leg flailed helplessly in the air and his eyes were wide as Brock pressed his lips down on Brian for a dip kiss.
To kids from one to ninety-two…
Hoots and cheers from the kitchen echoed throughout the house as Brock pulled Brian back up. Brian gasped, starring at Brock.
"You still just 'like me'?" Brock smirked. "'Cuz I'm fucking crazy about you."
Brian grinned, and threw himself against Brock, kissing him hard.
"Can we move the gay INTO the kitchen and not in the hallway?" a familiar voice groaned, and Brock broke away to see Evan—bags under his eyes, scruffy hair, and arm in a sling—standing a few feet away, smiling amused at the festivities.
"EVAN!" Everyone shouted, piling out of the kitchen and into the connecting hallway, wrapping the injured man into a tight hug that no plaintiff protest could break up.
Although it's been said…
"How are you feeling?" "Does you arm hurt?" "Sorry for crushing it!" everyone was speaking at once, but Brock could see that Evan's eyes never left Jonathan's, both smiling. Evan made his way to Jonathan, growing redder with each step.
"So…what did I miss?"
Jonathan rolled his eyes, and took his hand, leading him towards the kitchen doorway. "Not much. A little festivities, a little drinking, Brock's birthday cake…"
Many times, many ways…
Jonathan stopped in the doorway, still holding Evan's hand, and pointed up at the mistletoe hanging from the doorframe. Evan looked up, following his hand, and blushed impossibly harder when he saw it.
"Um…" he mumbled, looking back at Jonathan.
Brock felt Brian squeeze his hand. Everyone was watching, waiting. This dance had gone on too long, and those two motherfuckers were going to kiss, either on their own free will, or by force from the rest of them.
Jonathan placed his hands on Evan's hips. "Your call, boss," Jonathan grinned, blushing a little himself.
And slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Evan leaned in till he and Jonathan were only centimeters apart. Everything was silent, except for the song as it drew to a close the same time as Evan and Jonathan drew closer until their lips touched and their first real kiss happened.
Merry Christmas…
Everyone cheered as Evan and Jonathan kissed, grinning at one another and shouting mock abuse at the couple. But they seemed totally unaware that anyone except each other existed. It was just Evan and Jonathan, wrapped up in their own world, where no one could trouble them, no one could see them. And it wasn't for several more long seconds did they break apart, blushing as they made shy eye contact with each other, and grinned.
To you.
"ABOUT TIME," Brock shouted, and the laughter and shouting resumed as everyone pilled into the kitchen, pouring out champagne for everyone. Their glasses raised in a call of "Merry Christmas," the tinkling of laugh and glass against glass as everyone shouted cheers before drinking, it was a beautiful Christmas. Brian had his arm wrapped around Brock the entire time, and across from him, Brock caught Evan's eye and he could see Evan's hand wrapped tightly around Jonathan's. Brock winked, and Evan rolled his eyes at him over the top of his glass.
Maybe Alexa was right. The bad times were bad, but it was these moments, these moments of total and utter bliss when everything went right, that Brock knew were the best moments of his life.
Alexa was awake. Everyone in the house was long asleep after a night of drinking, kissing, and finally crashing. It was only Alexa who was alone, only Alexa who was awake.
She didn't pity herself, though. In fact, she pitted the other guys. Because if they knew what she knew right now, starring at the bright screen of her computer with tears running down her cheeks as she sobbed and screamed silently into her pillow unable to tear her eyes away from the images on it, they wouldn't be asleep right now.
They wouldn't be OKAY right now.
The email had arrived at about one in the morning. Alexa had originally opened it on her phone, but the files were too large, so she opened her computer. The email was from a protected address, so no tracing—not that she didn't try—but she knew who it was right away when she opened the email and saw the files attached.
The files were videos, raw, uncut videos, each about six minutes in length. Alexa frowned as she clicked the download button, waiting until every video was downloaded before opening the first one. But when she saw who was center screen in the video, her heart stopped and her stomach dropped.
Tom. It was Syndicate. He was sitting in a chair, tied in place with zip ties around his ankles and presumably zip ties around his wrists behind the chair. The room looked like a basement, grimy and dark except for the bare lightbulb hanging out of shot above. Tom was crying, eyes bloodshot and nose running, pleading with someone behind the camera to let him go between painful sobs. After several seconds of empty pleading, three figures in ski masks and dark suits moved past camera positioned themselves around Tom so that the camera could still see him.
Alexa got it as soon as she saw what the men were carrying: one had a butterfly knife, one had a pair of pliers, and the other had a hammer.
This was a torture video.
Tom's screams were loud, so loud Alexa turned off the volume with a jolt. But even without volume, she felt her own stomach twist and contort as the gruesome video of Tom's torture played out. Alexa felt herself suffocating as the video played, her nails dug into the pillow she had grabbed and now was hugging. It felt like the video wouldn't end, there would just be more and more blood, more and more silent screams, and more and more pain. Yet just before the six minutes were up, one of the men pulled out a gun and shot Tom in the side of the head.
She jumped, her entire body convulsing in sympathy as the bullet ripped through the man's head. He slumped sideways, and was still, blood pooling under his feet and the men walked out of frame.
The video ended just like that, a still frame of Tom's dead body lifeless tied to a chair. Alexa swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling her stomach flip as she closed the video and moved her mouse shakily to the next one, to number two.
The next video was Cartoonz, Luke, the same man who had helped get weapon supplies to them several times. Same style, same weapons, same screams of agony, same death. It ended the same way, with a still frame of Cartoonz's lifeless figure still tied to the chair, it was the same chair they had used for Tom too.
The next video had two people: Droidd and Ohmwrecker. When she saw them, Alexa gasped. They weren't targeting people who were helping them, they were killing everyone they cared about, everyone they were friends with. Same length, six men this time, same weapons, same deaths, same endings. Alexa didn't know what she was expecting, but she still cried with every silent scream, still twitched with every impact of the hammer or knife, still flinched with every gunshot.
They went after veryone. Seananners was next, then ZeRoyalViking, then ChilledChaos, BasicallyIDoWork, FourZer0Seven, Pewdiepie, the list went on. Most of the videos had two people in them, but in grand total, there were twelve videos. And every time, Alexa flinched, cried, twitched and felt her heart stop with every torture victim.
The very last video Alexa could barely open. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out who would be in the last video. Who else could they kill?
But the people in the video made Alexa scream, out loud.
Sydney, Nikki, and Mari. Tied to chairs, wide eyed and already screaming before the three men advanced on them with their bloodied tools. This time, Alexa looked away, and six minutes later when she looked back, the three girls were limp in their restraints.
Alexa starred, her eyes red, her cheeks burning, her fingers in pain, and her stomach convulsing. She was going to be sick. Alexa jumped off her bed and ran into the bathroom across the hall, burying her face in the toilet as she vomited.
Behind her, the bathroom door creaked and she felt several hands on her back. It wasn't until she sat up and the anonymous friends were wiping the vomit from her lips with tissue paper and stroking her back did she recognize them. Lui and David.
"Alexa…" Lui breathed, his eyebrows knit with concern as he waded up the tissue paper and threw it into the toilet, flushing it. "Are you okay?"
"You screamed…" David probed, still stroking her back and she fell back against him, breathing hard. Alexa couldn't speak; even though she had muted the videos, she could still hear the screams of the people killed. She felt guilty; she watched those videos, every single one, and she couldn't raise a finger to help them, no a single one. How could she tell David and Lui what she had just seen? Alexa hated Renegades for taking her childhood away from her, but now, they took her friend's lives away from them. She had just witnessed the massacre of their co-workers, their friends, and their loved ones. Alexa knew she didn't have a life for herself outside of Renegades, but now, none of them did.
"Bad dream," Alexa replied, forcing a smile onto her lips and chuckling. "I think I might of drank a little too much. Maybe I should not drink half a bottle of champagne and three Irish coffees next time?"
Lui and David chuckled at her joke. Lui clutched her hand, getting her to look at him one last time. "Are you sure everything is okay?"
He knew. He knew something was wrong. She couldn't tell him. Not like this.
"Bad. Dream."
Lui backed off, helping her to her feet and he and David led Alexa back to her room, where she closed the door, slid her laptop under her bed, and slipped into bed herself, pulling a pillow over her head to block out the screams of the twenty-seven people she had just seen tortured and murder in front of her very eyes.