A/N: Ok, I know I was all, like, VERGURA for a minute there, and then I was offline for a while. Internet's been down, family stuff, blah blah blah. And then THIS insisted I post it. I hadn't really gotten into what Spinner and Tezz were up to, and I felt that I needed to resolve that, so here's a chapter of Spinner, Sherman, and Tezz! And a small cameo of the Metal Maniacs from AcceleRacers.
Spinner ground his teeth and sipped at his Dr. Pepper, trying not to outwardly show how nervous he was. This was just like going to Zeke's, he told himself. This was a safe, public place, and all his friends were here. 'And I'm only drinking soda, and caffeinated soda at that, so it's not like anyone can catch me unawares.' Alcohol at home with people he was finally beginning to trust again was one thing, but boozing it up around strangers was out of the question. Getting drunk and being talked into something stupid was at the top of the list of dangerous things that could get Spinner kidnapped or worse, and the gamer was determined not to do any of those things. But also was he determined not to be afraid anymore. He refused to let what had happened to him control his life, but he needed to take baby-steps to get to where he had been before that day.
"Are you okay, Spin? You look really tense."
Spinner grimaced. 'Then again, maybe a drink or two might help me forget.' And really, forgetting was all he needed to do to move on. Forgetting was all he wanted, everything he craved. But Spinner was too wary of straying from the obsessive compulsive set of rules that he believed would keep him from getting attacked again to even consider drinking.
"Spinner…?"
"I'm fine, Sherman," he said tersely. Seeing his brother sink in his seat, Spinner suddenly felt guilty. Who wouldn't, seeing Sherman's big puppy-dog eyes? "I'm fine. Really."
The younger Cortez smiled weakly. "We could go home, if you like."
Spinner took in a shuddering breath. "I'm staying. I'm going to have fun." 'If it kills me.'
It was…difficult for Spinner to trust people, since what had happened. Getting used to humans in general was hard, but males in particular were too horrible for him to contemplate. Being around his friends helped somewhat; with Spinner constantly reminding himself they were indeed his friends and would never ever hurt him, he had slowly relaxed to their presence. He was getting better, and that was the one thing that gave him hope. If he could just calm down enough to put that week behind him, he would be okay. The most important thing now was that he readjust to being around people. He had to move on or he was going to do something the others would regret.
Yes, it was true that he had contemplated killing himself. It was not as if it was the first time. Everyone had their low points. But… "Sherman," he said softly.
"Yeah, bro?" he said, perking up.
There was no way he could hurt his baby brother like that. Sherman was so sensitive and sweet, and he worried about his brother. They were fraternal twins; they had been together their entire lives. If anything were to happen to Spinner, poor Sherman would be devastated.
"Actually, this band kinda sucks," Spinner said offhandedly. "There's a Chinese place down the street. You wanna go for some chow, just you and me?"
Sherman smiled. "Yeah, okay," he said brightly, getting up from the booth. "Let me just tell Agura where we're going so she can come get us when she needs a ride home."
Spinner smiled wryly. A bar was a place people went to get drunk and wallow in their misery. He needed to move on with his life; getting out of this place and repairing his relationships were the first step. Hopefully the second step would involve crab rangoons.
Tezz Volitov was usually a very reserved and private sort of person. It was not that he lacked feelings, but rather that he preferred not to show them. If people know how you feel, they begin to understand you, and when they understand you, it makes it easier for them to hurt you. The Russian trusted the Battle Force 5; he knew he could count on them. But at the same time, he guarded his heart and kept them at arm's length. The risk of growing closer to them was too great to take all at once. It was any wonder he had somehow managed to cultivate a somewhat stable familiarity with any of them, let alone such a deep romantic relationship with AJ, and even this romance had its usual ups and downs.
The simple truth was that the Russian's social skills were lacking. He knew it, the rest of the team knew it, and even various townsfolk knew it. Tezz was blunt and to the point, always distracted by his quest knowledge, and so confident in his own intellect that he rarely if ever considered the possibility that he was wrong. Unfortunately, one of the most recent times he had been wrong, one of his friends had been hurt because of it.
He should have believed Spinner, he thought bitterly. The young gamer was annoying at times, it was true, but he was still Tezz's friend. Knowing now the truth of what had been going on, the way that Deputy Cash had terrorized the young man, Tezz was completely distraught. Poor Spinner must have been so scared and alone, and Tezz had laughed at him. The Russian accused him of lying and being crazy. Spinner had asked him for help, and Tezz had turned his back on him. Thusly the way Spinner was constantly snapping at him made perfect sense.
Tezz pounded back another shot, but it did nothing to help. No amount of dancing or alcohol could make him forget what he had done.
It killed him to see the older Cortez so irritable and jumpy, as if every ounce of his fun-loving attitude had been drained away. He was a shadow of his former self. Tezz looked at Spinner, sitting there as his brother walked away, nervously tapping his fingers on the booth table; every ten seconds or so, the gamer's eyes would do a quick sweep of the room, assessing threats. Tezz recognized the strained neutral expression of cool indifference as once he himself often wore, trying to keep others from knowing his feelings.
His smile was gone.
His laughter was gone.
The light in his eyes had died.
And deep down, Tezz knew that it was all his fault.
Maybe it was not entirely his fault, but as arrogant as Tezz was, and in this case as irrational as he was being, no one could convince him otherwise. The massive and potentially very dangerous amount of liquor he had imbibed had made him even more stubborn, and he believed every thought he had was the absolute truth: there had been a metaphorical wolf at the door, and he had condemned his friend to be taken by that wolf.
"I'm a monster," he whispered as he stumbled towards the booth. He continued to repeat the phrase even as he moved back to where the Cortez bros were seated. "I'm a monster," he said more clearly, feeling a pang of guilt at the way Spinner cringed away from him. "I'm a monster, and I should have helped you when you asked, but I did nothing, and I'm Satan, and I'm sorry, so sorry. I'm a horrible person. I don't deserve to be your friend."
Spinner yelped and backed towards the wall as Tezz crowded into his side of the booth and threw his arms around the gamer. The Russian held the frightened and panicked gamer tightly against him, ignoring or not noticing that Spinner was on the verge of hyperventilation. "I hate myself and I want to die and I'm sorry."
"Let me go, you skinny bastard!" Spinner screamed over the band's funktastic rendition of "Kill The DJ" by Green Day.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he continued to chant, as if it were some magic spell that would make everything okay.
The elder Cortez had been waiting for an apology, but now that he heard it, it only served to fill him with rage. Spinner had tried his best to be cheerful and welcoming when Tezz had joined the team. He tried so hard to get the Russian to crack a smile when he was working too hard. He had tried to be a good friend, even if his own sense of mischief had gotten between them from time to time. This… This scrawny Russian ASSHOLE had snubbed him at every turn, antagonizing him during the worst week of his life, and now Spinner was just supposed to forgive him like it was all water under the bridge? Oh, screw that! This bitch was going down!
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Spinner snapped, shoving Tezz violently away. "You say some meaningless words and everything's just supposed to be fine again?! You're so fucking trashed you won't even remember this tomorrow. Your apology means nothing to me, Tezz, NOTHING. Not after learning how little I meant to you as a friend."
Tezz stumbled out of the booth and stared at him, wincing at the harsh statement. "I—"
"Just fuck off and leave me alone!" Spinner demanded. With a deep scowl he leapt out of the booth and made for the door.
Tezz blocked his path. "No, you fuck off!" he retorted dumbly. "God dammit, I'm trying to pour my heart out here! The least you could do is sit still long enough to listen! Or is your attention span too short for even that?!"
"The least I could—! After all the shit you put me through?!"
"I'm under a lot of pressure here and you're not making this easy!" Tezz roared back.
Spinner rolled his eyes. "Of fucking course you found a way to make this about you," he growled, glaring up at Volitov. "You're being such a drunk asshole!"
"You are being a sober asshole!" Tezz snapped back.
"Good," a gravelly, southern voice said amicably. "Then we're all in agreement here. You're both assholes."
"Who asked you?!" Tezz demanded, turning on the interloper—
THUD
—And smacking face first into a wall of muscle. The inebriated Russian heard Spinner whimper in dismay and hesitated to look up, but curiosity eventually got the better him. Slowly he allowed his gaze to travel upward.
The mountain of a man who towered over him would later be described by witnesses as "Yosemite Sam's scary biker nephew." He stood head and shoulders above the master of electromagnetics, with thick, rocky muscles packed onto every inch of him. A sleeveless t-shirt advertising a band called Cannibal Corpse was stretched tight over his massive chest, and tufts of coarse red hair were sticking out from the ripped collar and arm holes. And there was plenty more hair where that came from; the fellow also had an overgrown moustache the same fiery red as his shoulder length mane, along with a thick pair of eyebrows overlooking his ice blue eyes. His deeply tanned skin, sunburned shoulders, and dirty fingernails, along with the impatient look on his rough-hewn face and undoubtedly steroid-using physique, marked him as a man not to be trifled with.
"Oh my," Tezz said quietly.
"Now I don' know what y'all are arguin' about, and I don' rightly care," he said gruffly. "But my friends an' I came here special tonight to see this band. You see that sweet little girl up there? That's my friend's cousin, an' we're here to show her some support on her first gig. And we can't hear too good with y'all fussin' like this."
Tezz and Spinner backed up slowly as the fiery redheaded giant advanced on them with a glower and lowered his face to their level.
"Now what are you fellas gonna do about our little problem?" he asked, glaring down at them.
Tezz was a man of intellect under normal circumstances, but not tonight. He gave the massive stranger a lopsided smile and looked him up and down. "I could probably think of something to make it up to you," he slurred. "I always did like big guys…"
Alarm bells went off in Spinner's head and he grabbed the Russian by the arm, dragging him towards the door. "We're really sorry, we were just leaving, please don't kill us, kay thanx bai!"
The biker watched them go, one massive eyebrow raised, and shook his head. With a small laugh he returned to his table, he and his friends greeting each other with knowing chuckles. Nobody messed with the Metal Maniacs, and that was the way they liked it.
Spinner hauled Tezz out of the bar and into the parking lot, so desperate to escape that he hardly took the time to breathe. By the time they got to the Challenger he was ready to faint, but his adrenaline was so high he failed to notice. He had to get away. He had to get to safety. He had to run from the larger, stronger male who could pick him up like a ragdoll and do whatever he wanted, the giant of a man who Tezz foolishly tried to entice into doing God only knew what.
"—said you are hurting me, Spinner!" Tezz said frantically.
The gamer snapped out of it, realizing his fingernails were indeed digging into Tezz's bare wrist, his tight grip leaving marks that would later form a bruise. With some effort he opened his hand again, carefully letting the Russian go. Slowly he took in a shuddering breath, running his hands through his hair.
"Spinner…?"
In all actuality the biker had essentially asked them to quiet down as politely as he could, but in Spinner's mind they had barely made it out alive. He was thin and short. He was weak and there would always be someone stronger than him, ready and able to…to…
"Spinner… Why are you crying?"
Spinner stifled a sob, furiously wiping at his eyes. "I'm not crying!" he insisted. "You don't know what you're talking about! You're drunk."
"Can still tell when someone's crying," Tezz mumbled back.
The elder Cortez shot back with "What were you thinking flirting with that guy? He could have been a serial killer!"
The master of electromagnetics harrumphed, crossing his arms. "What do you care who I flirt with?"
"Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean I want you to get yourself killed." Spinner drew closer to the Russian and grabbed him as gently by the shoulders as he could, no mean feat considering how wired and jittery the gamer was feeling. "Tezz," he said in a frightened half whisper, "you don't know that guy. What if he turned out to be some redneck psycho who killed you just for being gay? Or worse, what if he took you up on your offer and—"
Tezz stared in shock as Spinner's voice broke, the elder Cortez barely stifling a sob.
"He could've hurt you really badly, Tezz! You can't just run off with strange men! Here you are, ready to pass out— Didn't you even think about that?!What could he do to you if you were unconscious?! What would you do if you woke up in the hospital and all you could remember was some guy holding you down and-and-and fucking you like a cheap whore while you screamed and begged him to stop?!"
The ebony-haired young man had been completely stock-still for this outburst save for the times Spinner had shook him to get his point across. Finally had he hit what the layman referred to as 'the moment of clarity,' that one magical instance when someone knows the absolute truth of how badly they have just fucked up. Tezz had been so busy wallowing in shame and self-recrimination that he failed to consider he was making the situation worse. He had loomed over Spinner, constantly reminding him of everything he was trying to escape. Looking down into the hacker's tearstained eyes, he realized to his horror that such overbearing behavior must have been quite unnerving to someone who had survived a sexual assault. That Spinner still cared enough to try to prevent Tezz from suffering the same fate was a testament to the gamer's compassion. It took hearing everything Spinner feared in exact terms for him to comprehend this. He had needed Spinner to articulate it precisely.
"I'm sorry," Tezz heard himself say in a shaky voice. "I wasn't thinking at all. You're absolutely right, Spinner. Please don't cry."
"I'm not crying!" Spinner sobbed. "You're the one who's crying!"
Tezz whimpered. "So are you!" he whined, unable to stop his tears.
Neither of them was able to cease weeping, and so their argument stopped. In their blind sorrow, the pair of them latched onto the nearest thing they could hold for support, which in this case was each other. There the pair stood in the parking lot, engaged in a bro-hug and crying manly tears.
The moment Sherman walked out of the Tipsy Roadrunner he heard his brother's desperate, mournful cries and fell into a panic. A worst case scenario running through his mind, he rushed into the parking lot.
But there had been no need.
The younger Cortez brother's panic turned to heartache when he saw Spinner's face. The hacker was falling apart in Tezz's arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and the electromagnetics genius was crying right along with him. Carefully, Sherman approached the emotional pair and enquired as to their health, but they insisted they were fine. After a few minutes of wiping their eyes and sharing awkward glances, Spinner and Tezz piled into the back seat of the Challenger and buckled in while Sherman took the wheel. When he heard the Cortez brothers were planning to go for Chinese, Tezz told them he did not wish to ruin their plans, but Sherman maintained they were going straight home. And so, the trio got on the road. With this reassurance, Tezz fell into a deep slumber. Both Sherman and Spinner sighed in relief.
Sherman glanced in the rearview mirror, watching his brother wipe at his eyes. "He passed out, huh?"
Spinner nodded, remaining silent.
Sherman tried to smile back, but he was too worried to really make it convincing.
"I heard you were complaining about Tezz the other day," Sherman said, his voice measured and careful. "Is everything alright with you guys?"
Spinner smiled weakly. "I think they will be."
This time, Sherman's smile was genuine. He watched the road intently as he drove slowly through their sleepy little town, occasionally scanning the mirror to check on his passengers. Spinner was sitting quietly with his hands folded in his lap, looking out the window at the passing scenery. It had been some time since Sherman had seen him so calm, even before the attack. But in his eyes was a careful, watchful look, constantly vigilant in the search for danger.
Tezz, by contrast, was showing only the look of exhaustion. The Russian's head was lolled back against the window at an angle that Sherman knew would give him a painful crick in his neck if they left him for too long. Such a thing seemed so out of character for Tezz, who was usually so measured and dignified. His behavior had been so off lately, his drinking out of control. It was troubling, but Sherman shrugged it off with a thought of 'boys will be boys.'
"Man," he intoned, shaking his head. "He's seriously conked out back there, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he's wasted," Spinner agreed. The hacker let out a low chuckle. "He's out like a light! If I shaved his head, do you think I could convince him he did it himself?"
Sherman laughed but still said the responsible thing. "That wouldn't be very nice," he said, stifling a giggle.
Spinner laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, you're right," he said playfully. "Still tough to pass up an easy target, am I right?"
Sherman grinned and turned his attention back to the road as they came to a red light. It was nice to see his brother smile again. Spinner was laughing and joking just like his old self, and that gave Sherman hope. Maybe all he had needed was a good cry; maybe he really was going to be okay. It was a longshot, but if Sherman could get him through the rest of his attacker's trial without a breakdown, maybe everything would be back to normal.
"Um, Sherman?"
The worried tone of Spinner's voice immediately snapped Sherman from his reverie. "Yeah, bro?"
"I think Tezz stopped breathing."
