Oh God. This fucker is finally done! For a chapter where I didn't think much would happen, it sure took a bloody long time... sorry to have kept you guys waiting on it!
The parks in Steelport were strangely peaceful places. The wind through the trees, the birds, the peace occasionally punctuated by children's laughter. At night they used to be hangouts for Luchadors or Morningstar but we'd long since cleared them out and you could see a few of the Steelport residents tentatively appearing in the playgrounds again with their kids.
Till I show up with my baby boy, that is.
Trouble rolled merrily over the grass, stretching his long frame out and was happy enough to ignore me now, glad to be out of the high rise. The few people who had chosen to stay were still watching him curiously, though most of the mothers (after spying me) moved their children away protectively. Only one kid, a young boy stayed close enough to watch him, sitting up on a boulder and absently breaking sticks apart.
"I'll never know why people would want to raise families in this city," I said with a light shake of my head. Viola leaned back next to me, her usual turtleneck replaced by a high neckline tank top and her purple trimmed sunglasses for once over her eyes rather than perched on her head. The park had been her idea, as it usually was. I think she was a closeted out-doors person.
"Most people don't, if they have the choice," she said, matter-of-factly. I stayed leant forward with my elbows on my knees, keeping an eye on Trouble to be sure he wasn't living up to his name sake. He was just sunning himself now, tail occasionally flicking.
"How close are we to getting Killbane?" Viola asked then, her tone deceptively cool. I glanced sidewards at her.
"Stalled. He's skipped the country," I said and I could see a twitch in the corner of her mouth, "The up side is we got a fix on someone who might know his location or at least a way to contact him."
I leant back to look at her and she raised her eyebrows at me.
"Was wondering if you were up for an excursion to the docks with me and Angel?" I offered. Viola tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Been a while since I got some decent action," she said lightly. I didn't respond right away, only nodded.
The truth was I didn't trust Viola, not really. I could have confidence in her motivations, sure - you could always trust revenge. What concerned me was what was going to happen after. I doubted she had any true loyalty to the Saints; not that I thought her a deceptive person, she was just a survivalist and we had been a means to an end for her. I could almost imagine her childhood, just her and her twin Kiki, best friends, relying on each other and no one else, clawing their way to the top. I got why she turned on Killbane or I could at least guess. Killbane takes over, Kiki goes missing, Viola joins the Saints… it doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened. What concerned me is how quickly she turned on her own gang; she if she wanted to rip the Luchadors a new one that was fine but she was just… so okay she was with killing Morning Star. The gang she fucking ran.
I try to imagine roles being reverse, but I don't think I could ever kill my people like she did. I'm sure without her sister now Viola was alone in the world. The best I could do now was to make her feel like a part of the family, and watch out for those pesky knives that tended to find their way into my back.
Trouble was up on his feet soon, slowly and lithely padding his way to me like a model down a cat walk. Once he reached me he rested his head on my nee expectantly and I tickled his nose lightly, causing him to scrunch and rub his cheeks against my shin.
I felt Viola nudge me then and looked up to where she was indicating – that kid was slowly approaching, twisting his fingers. He stopped when I looked at him.
He wasn't particularly scruffy, not like the Shivington children. But the clothes were obviously cheap or hand-me-downs. He also had that gangly, wiry look that told me he spent more time outside mucking around than inside like the richer kids usually did. His hair was dusty brown and could use a cut, his features that kind of odd, half rounded half sharp look that made it next to impossible to tell his ethnicity, like some kind of complex racial recipe.
He took another tiny step forward and looked to Trouble, then me.
"Can I pat him?" he asked, his voice small.
"Sure honey," Viola said easily and I shot her a cold look. He gave a smile, now boldly approaching trouble who watched him warily. The kid put his hand to Trouble's back, running his palm down his spine repetitively.
"What's his name?" the kid asked, now totally trusting and unafraid. I could have laughed.
"Trouble," I replied, and the kid nodded approvingly.
"That's a cool name," the boy informed me, "My mom got me a hamster and made me call him Huggles. Huggles is a stupid name."
I heard Viola's quiet, lyrical chuckle at that.
"That is true," she said. The boy kept still watching Trouble, still patting his back happily.
"I like Tigers. What do you feed him?" he asked. For a kid who had all of his opinions tolerable fixed, he was an inquisitive one. I decided I didn't hate him.
"Cat food," I said blandly, then felt a dark smirk. I looked at him over the tops of my aviators, fixing him with a venomous gaze, "Sometimes people."
The kid blinked, his eyes wide, "Whoah, like, bad people?" he breathed. Kids could be amusing; maybe it was just how gullible they were, or how accepting of strange ideas. The world hadn't gotten to them yet.
"In my opinion, yes," I said cryptically and he frowned, continuing to steadily pat Trouble's coat, the same spot repetitively.
"Would he… would he eat kids?" he asked, "Cos there's this boy at my school and he's a bad kid-"
It took me a moment to realise this boy was asking me to feed his classmate to a tiger. I should put this kid on lay-by. Canonise him in eight to ten years.
I drew a smoke out of my pack and lit up, taking a deep drag, "I dunno. Maybe," I teased, then added thoughtfully, "He'd probably like it actually, children would be very tender. Like veal."
"…Mom says veal is just a special word for beef," the boy informed me.
"Veal is a baby cow," I corrected, "They take the baby away from its mom soon after it's born and they kill it, right there," I said. The boy's eyes went wide in wonderment and I considered how far I could push it, "Sometimes in front of her, just so she can watch."
He couldn't suspend his disbelief at that point, "Nuh-uh."
"It's true. In the olden days they used to just cut the baby right out of the mom's belly, cook it on the spot."
"Justinian!"
We all glanced up at the panicked, angry voice. A soccer mom was striding over quickly, indicating hurriedly to the boy to come to her, watching Viola and me with frightened, furious eyes.
'Justinian' barely spared us another glance before running obediently to his mother, who instantly put and arm around his thin shoulders and hurried him away. It was then I felt Viola's eyes on me.
"The hell is wrong with you?" she asked dryly and I raised me eyebrow at her.
"What?"
"Saying shit like that to kids," she said, nodding after he boy who I saw was now being scolded by his mother, "He's gonna have nightmares."
"Please, at worst he'll become a vegetarian," I said with a snort, taking a drag of my smoke and blowing with away nonchalantly, "And considering the shit that can go down in a meat packing plant, I can't say it's a bad thing."
Viola was shaking her head, but she was smirking, amused.
"C'mon, I wasn't gonna lie to the kid," I amended and even behind her sunglasses, I could see the utterly flat look she rolled my way.
"They kill the babies in front of their moms?" She parroted dryly. I smirked, shrugged, and took another drag of my smoke.
"…They might in Europe?"
"Any clue what they might be lugging?" I asked lowly as I glared from the car window. The signal that was coming from the docks turned out to be stationed on a large tug boat the Luchadors had commandeered; the deck swarmed with the green clad people moving crates in the dim light of dusk.
"I'd go with drugs; that boat looks like it can cross a distance," Angel replied from the back seat but Viola shook her head, glaring through the binoculars.
"Looks like straight up supplies at the moment," she corrected, "I think a few of the crew as staying on that thing. Angel, you see Espinosa?" she asked as she handed the binoculars to the back seat. Angel glared through them, silent for a moment.
"…He just went in the cabin," he growled darkly. I didn't wait for anything else.
"Let's go."
With that I pushed the door open, slinging my SMG from my shoulder. Angel and Viola were quick to follow as we marched down the dock after me.
"And it's a ship," I heard Viola correct him.
"No it's not. It's too small," Angel corrected in turn and I had to roll my eyes.
"It's got two decks and a life boat."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Shut up, both of you!" I snapped over my shoulder. Christ. If I was in a car I would have pulled it over and smacked them both. I started in a low dash and as soon as got near the ship, started firing, the first two guards on the dock dropping like flies. Gunfire behind me told me Angel and Viola were at work, and we charged the vessel, the surprised and unprepared Luchadors scrambling for cover as we tore into them. We fought our way up the gangway, Viola reloading as I covered her and Angel charging ahead as if he were Oleg, smashing into his former gang and pummelling them. Once we were on the deck I ducked behind a crate as the crew that were inside the vessel came flooding out, guns drawn. I jutted out from my cover once I reloaded and let fly with a few careful shots, picking them off.
Angel wasn't one for guns; he was breaking apart the unarmed bangers one by one and using their bodies as shields, firing the pistols that were still in the corpses hands.
"Viola, you think you can get inside and secure Juan?" I called out over the rattling of my SMG.
"I'm on it," she said deftly, quickly turning and spiriting herself along the boat (ship, whatever). I rolled out from my cover and gained more ground on them, slaughtering any masked thug that was in my way. The gang was clearly down to its dregs, the thin stock of new recruits barely making us pause. Not even a Brute, I could almost be disappointed.
But of course, just when you think it's too easy…
Then there was a sound I hadn't heard in some time – an electronic swoosh, like a lightsaber or a cable snapping. There was a crackling wave of static and a rush through the air, a lyric giggle by my ear.
I spun and saw her pause just in time to wink at me and swing her stupidly oversized war hammer.
"Mother fu-"
The moment I tried to leap out of the way she cracked it on the ground, the weapon clanging and sparking loudly as it set an electronic shockwave through the air and over the steel grated deck, racing up my legs like fire, the shock of it throwing my body back and causing my muscles to suddenly convulse. The yelp broke out of my chest as my body hit the ground and I groaned, hearing the giggle and the swish as she teleported off again, a blue blur on roller blades.
I pushed myself up and was quickly on my feet again, catlike and growling, trying to keep my eyes on her. I fucking hate these roller-bitches. She swept up close by again, halting for a moment, her blue pig-tails bouncing about her shoulders and skimpy rah-rah skirt swishing over her hips.
"Long time no see pumpkin," she said and blew a kiss. I swung my gun at her but she was already gone, a blue blaze in her wake. I fired after the bluish trail, trying to predict where she'd go but the moment I thought I had her she'd instantly change directions, zipping off somewhere else; the longest she would ever pause would be to swing that damn hammer-
I frowned, instead keeping my eyes on other targets and my ears out for her. As I plucked off another two green-clad thugs, I heard that familiar swoosh and the clang as she stopped behind me. Then the giggle.
She lifted the hammer above her head and I crouched, twisted and readied to spring away – instead, I turned my gun on her and fired.
I only just heard her shriek before the hammer impacted my shoulder; my breath hitched in my throat and I felt something crack as the electricity ripped through my muscles. My body spasmed uselessly on the ground, the shockwaves tearing up my bones till the eventually subsided and I groaned as the feeling rushed back to my limbs.
"On your feet, Xena!" I heard Angel yell at me from across the deck; I blinked up at him, my vision still a little blurred. He had a Luchador in a headlock and with a grunt, snapped his neck, instantly moving to his next target. My legs trembled slightly, overcoming the shock as I stood. My left shoulder wasn't so lucky I realised, a sharp pain was radiating from where the hammer hit.
There was a cry and a wet, spluttering cough behind me. The roller-girl was on the ground, bug eyed and gasping with a hand over her throat, blood rapidly spilling from between her fingers. Her face was soon white and in a moment, she dropped to the ground, the last of her blood pooling around her. I only snarled at her, readying my SMG with my good arm and turning on the last of the Luchadors that Angel hadn't dispatched. The last shots echoed around the hull, and soon the space was cleared. The only noise left were the muted sounds of the city carried over the wind. I looked towards the cabin and could hear two raised voices, one female, one male. Viola was already interrogating Espinosa.
"Shoulder?" came a gruff voice from beside me. Angel was shrugging off his hoodie, twisting the sleeves.
"Yeah. Nothin' too bad, the bitch just got me with a taser hammer," I said dryly. Angel nodded sagely and for a sore moment I remembered that Johnny would've chuckled…
"Here," Angel said, twisting the hoodie into a makeshift sling and gingerly touching my shoulder, "Collarbone looks fine," he decided, and I let him wrap the sling under my arm and around my neck.
"It'll be fine, just needs to rest for a day," I said, going to shrug but wincing. At that, Angel raised his eyebrows at me.
"I know you're a fast healer, but if anything's fractured it's going to take a little more than twenty for hours."
I smirked. Not in my case, I thought, but stayed silent. Thanks to the strange condition Carlos had left me with, I trusted by now my body would be able to revert back in no time. I looked back then to the roller-girl's corpse, frowning.
"Did you run into any other Deckers out here?" I asked darkly. I thought we'd as good as wiped them out, or at least everything street side. Most of the Deckers that were left had become free-range hackers, staying out of gang business and living off what they could skim off their skills. 'Doing it for the lolz', was one little clan's slogans.
"I did. No real competition, but it does beg the question," Angel said, not bothering to finish his statement. I nodded at that, glancing to the small office just inside the cabin.
"Well if there's anyone who knows it'll be him," I said with a nod. As if to punctuate my statement, I heard a meaty, metallic thud as Viola pistol-whipped our prisoner. Angel followed me silently as I clattered up the short stairs, shooting a quick text through to Kinzie as I did: Dkrs at the Luch op – ne ideas?
Squeezing my phone back into my pocket I pushed the door open to the cabin. Juan was already duct-taped down to a chair, a red, swollen blotch over his skin where Viola had hit him.
"See? You could've just talked to me," she said darkly to him. Juan's glare turned to wide-eyed fear when he saw me. I guess I was getting a rep as far as my interrogation skills went. Still, with my arm in a sling it probably made me look a little less intimidating.
"… Juan Espinosa, isn't it?"
He glared up at me sardonically, his breathing staggered, crackling a little. I continued.
"Now you clearly understand what's going on; we have questions and you should have some answers. You cooperate, and we won't have to do anything too fucked up with you," I said and he narrowed his eyes at me. Angel was the first one on him though, impatiently grabbing the man by the back of the neck, squeezing sharply till out prisoner gave a small wail.
"Where's Eddie Pryor?" Angel growled impatiently. Juan glared up at him with disgust, snarling and about to spit at Angel, but he was beaten to the punch. Angel rammed his fist into Juan's gut and the man's resulting cry was combined with a dry retch. I felt my shoulders sag and put a hand on Angel's arm, nodding for him to stand back. Angel was still glaring at Juan but nodded, dutifully stepping out of the way. I leaned forward to fix a cold glare on Juan.
"We now you're in contact with Killbane. And we want to know how to find him," I said lowly, and I could tell he strained to hear me. He jutted his chin forward before answering.
"Killbane? That guy's a has-been," Juan spat, "He was unmasked, and then he ran from his final fight. This is my gang now."
I crossed my arms over my chest.
"That so huh? Cos one of your boys told us you were still getting your orders directly from him."
Juan lifted his chin haughtily again, "There were a few still loyal to him. They didn't understand it, the shame," he said, his final word pointed directly at Angel, who I heard crack his knuckles.
"So that's what you told them, to keep them working with you…" I said lightly, thoughtfully. He was telling me this all too easily; Espinosa's only response was a chuckle.
"But that doesn't mean you don't know how to find him," I offered, and he became quite still, "You were one of his closest lieutenants."
"Not since he left. Like I said, it's my show now."
I frowned, glanced to Angel, then Viola. With a grunt I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, tugging him forward and snarling into his face.
"I'm not buying it."
"Who cares? You're going to kill me anyway," he said darkly and I narrowed me eyes.
"It's up to you how long that takes." With that, I let him go, swung my SMG back into my hand and peppered one shot into his ankle, the impact blowing part of the bone away. He screamed, dry, agonised huffs following.
"You're honestly telling me he's never tried to contact you?" I asked darkly. Juan grunted and huffed, too shocked from the pain at that moment to respond. Angel marched over to him then, gripping him by the hair and pulling his face back.
"She asked you a question," he growled lowly, "Tell us how to find Killbane."
Juan's teeth were gritted and he glared up at Angel.
"Fuck you cabrón," he snarled, and Angel swiftly cracked his fist into the other's face. I frowned a little but said nothing; Luchadors were used to mindless beatings, they were canonised just like Saints were. Needed something a little more persuasive. I tapped my trigger finger against my gun thoughtfully then approached him.
"…Better that than a puta," I said smilingly, sticking the still-hot muzzle of the gun against his crotch and he suddenly yelped. I smirked.
"Three, two-"
"He calls me," he blurted suddenly, "Different phone each time, okay? Even if I wanted to call him I can't and he's never on for more than a minute!"
I pulled the gun away from his crotch, narrowing my eyes at him as he allowed the tiniest sigh of relief. Made sense – it's what I would've done in the situation especially since Killbane understood Kinzie's prowess with technology.
"How often?" I asked darkly and he hung his head.
"…A few times, only once in the past two weeks though."
Viola was already on him, rifling through his pockets for his cell phone. I observed him for a while before continuing my interrogation once Viola's hands were off him, gripping his cell.
"What were the Deckers doing here?" I pressed then and he blinked up at me worriedly.
"Th-The Deckers…?" he stammered, "Just some kids that needed some work-"
"C'mon Juan," I sighed, drumming my fingers over my gun again, "If you're looking for muscle you don't turn to the Deckers."
He clamped down again. I sighed and shot a quick look to Viola who shrugged, then to Angel, who cracked his knuckles.
"Juan, you're making this hard on yourself," I said, reaching down to my boot and drawing out my knife.
I hissed as I tried taping up my shoulder – the skin was red and singed, threads of black like tree roots crawling over my skin from where the hammer had impacted. I didn't doubt something was fractured; a few blue steaks and maybe some calcium tablets should be right as rain in a day or two.
I could guess as to why eating raw meat when I had a bit of zombie blood in me helped my body 'revert' faster. But I never much liked to speculate on that. Neither did anyone else who was clued in to my strange condition, except-
Johnny.
I let myself give another grunt, gingerly leaning my arm on the counter and trying not to think about him. How he should be here, fixing my arm up, saying something dry and teasing and making me laugh. He wasn't weirded out by me at all, or if he was, he had the nuts not to show it.
I sniffed, feeling heat prickling behind my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat, thinking instead about my shoulder. I tugged the tape out and gingerly wound it around the joint, awkwardly trying to tear the strip off with my teeth.
"You're making a damn mess of that."
I glanced over my shoulder and glared. Angel was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. I was suddenly hoping my eyes weren't red and I frowned at him.
"How long have you been standing there?" I glowered. I probably wouldn't care so much if I was wearing more than a bra and torn jeans. Angel's face was impassive when he responded.
"…Long enough to see you butchering your arm. Here," he said, taking a step forward, but I could feel his eyes on me. Dammit. Injured, lonely and half-naked. He sure knew when to pick his moments.
He was carefully peeling the tape off my shoulder again, and I watched his progress in the mirror, glaring a little at my own reflection.
"So. Matt Miller," Angel ventured casually as he worked and I closed my eyes and nodded.
"Kinzie's on this like white on rice. I only had to say the name… and no I'm not relying on her too much," I quickly added, snapping my eyes open to gauge his expression in the mirror. I leant against the sink a little tiredly; the shock from the hammer had by now given me a blinding headache and the bright light of the bathroom wasn't helping. I'd gone straight to the Three Count penthouse along with Angel after burning the tug boat and all it's occupants to the bottom of the docks. Viola (looking a little green herself after seeing what we'd done to Juan) had opted to go back to Safeword.
It had taken Angel and me a while to twist it out of Juan before he finally admitted that apparently, Miller was trying to get back in the game. He'd been orchestrating a few small ops street side, which just sounded weird to me. It wasn't usual Decker activity…
"You really think she'll dig up anything useful? It seems like small time stuff," he growled back. I closed my eyes as I felt him carefully examining my shoulder, not that he needed to.
"Leaving Matt alive was just one of my mistakes," I admitted darkly, "Killbane hasn't killed him for his betrayal because he knows he's too valuable. They're still working together, I can feel it."
He was quiet while he roughly rubbed a numbing gel over the joint, and I automatically fell into silence too, closing my eyes and willing my headache away.
His hands felt warm. They had that same, slightly calloused touch I was so familiar with. For a while, I let my mind wander, let it trick me… I was only a little aware he was standing closer than he needed to. Johnny would've stood that close to me though…
"You're a true leader. I don't think I've ever met a woman as strong as you," he said and I scowled. Shut up, you're spoiling it.
"I have to be," I replied shortly. There was a snapping rip as Angel pulled out a fresh length of tape and got to work on my arm, expertly binding the joint like he must have done with so many other injuries.
"Do you get tired of it?" he asked. I felt a slight scowl flicker over my brow.
"Of what?"
"Fighting."
I fought the urge to open my eyes and look at him. "…This from you?"
He was quiet for a moment, "I live for it," he said lowly, close enough I could feel his voice on me. He slowly smoothed the last piece of tape down, but he hand didn't stop – it ran gradually over my shoulders, to the back of my neck, pushing my hair out of the way to expose my skin, moving it to rest over my shoulder. I kept my eyes closed, using the pain in my head to block him out, only thinking about the warmth of the body behind me. When I didn't move, he became bolder.
"To the point I forget there's more to life than that," he said lowly. I kept still; there's a tiny part of me remembering where I am, who this is… but it's losing out at the moment as my memory and imagination take over. I kept my eyes closed, focusing on the feel of his hands. Hot, lightly calloused fingertips, just like Johnny's…
He stepped up closer still to my back and I could just feel his breath on my neck, the thin fabric of his singlet the only barrier between his skin and mine. The same height and build, so familiar…
"You don't miss it?"
The hand that had been resting on my shoulder slowly slid down my back, lightly stopping at my waist and another hand mimicking it on the other side. The fingers crept around to my front and a tingling flush ran over my skin as he tugged me a little closer, till I felt his hips pressed up against me. The breath on my neck grew hot and I felt lips brush gently over my skin behind my ear – my insides twisted warmly, surprising me and I let go of a small breath, leaning back onto his chest. Johnny…
He gently nipped at my neck and I tilted my head a little more, a shiver racing up my spine as he pushed the fabric of my shirt up, those warm hands over my stomach, one inching higher, another daring to inch lower.
Johnny's warm lips pressed onto my jaw, then at the corner of my mouth and I instinctively turned, parting my lips to the kiss-
But the moment his tongue slipped against mine I frowned then sharply pulled away, my eyes snapping open. The taste and feel was wrong. I couldn't pretend my way through that.
Angel was looking back at me, his lips flushed and eyes dark.
"What's wrong?"
I swallowed carefully and quickly looked away, resisting the urge to wipe my mouth.
"Just… get out," I said swiftly, cringing. Angel looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it. He gave me one last hungry look, before turning and striding across the bathroom, out into the hallway.
I turned, leaning forward against the sink and my breaths were suddenly heavy. The woman in the mirror looked guiltily back at me, her lips flushed and parted, her icy eyes still dilated. I rubbed at my mouth with the back of my hand then, hard, furious at myself, till a small choked sob rattled out of me.
Yes. I was getting tired of it.
What is it with me and torture scenes lately?
