How to Pay for Stuff

Tunnels and passages. That was the way they travelled now. The train was no longer available and Spencer was almost glad about that. He was not glad about what Floyd had said to him, but Sam was fussing and saying that he hurt and needed to rest. Levin had sunk into a strange sullen silence, and again had put on his expressionless face. Floyd was grasping Spencer's hand so tight and digging his nails in hard... Spencer thought he'd have crescent shaped indentations there for a week... if not small scabs. He'd tried a couple of times to pull away... twisting his hand as a child would do when trying to get out of the grasp of a parent. And that thought oddly, made Spencer grin. Not just a little smile, not a smirk, but a big grin. And though Floyd was walking next to him and looking at the gradually widening tunnel ahead of them, he still saw... Oh yes Floyd saw that smile and Floyd didn't much like it.

What with Sam's constant whining, Levin's clanking and inability to walk properly in his irons and now... and now this? It was too much. Floyd released Spencer's hand and dropped Sam's chain and he turned slowly and faced them all. The tunnel was about five foot wide and seemed to have no ceiling; the black stone walls just carried on up until they disappeared into the shadows. Lanterns hung along the walls, dripping what looked to be oil from the bottom of them. Floyd looked to each of this boys and then back to Spencer who had stopped grinning.

'I died a perfectly good death. I never asked for this shit. You decided to mess with things. This is the result of it. Sam... I lay all of this on your puny shoulders. This is your doing. If you'd let things be then I'd not have felt the undying need to send Levin a few memories... Yes, Levin, they were memories rather then nightmares and it's past time you opened you eyes and had a good look around you. These people will have your skin sooner than look at you. You're here under my protection... kindly remember that, because your fucking shitty attitude is beginning to make me want to hand you over for skinning... Spencer... I warned you once before about showing your teeth. It's a sign of aggression and I take it as one. He followed this up with a back hand across the side of Spencer's face. Spencer took a few steps to the side but the wall stopped him from falling. 'It's not acceptable. I won't be threatened by you or anyone. Wipe that blood off your mouth, you look like you've just had dinner. Sam go ahead and find us somewhere to sleep the night. The inns and winesinks are up there.' Floyd pointed in the direction they had been walking.

'I don't have any money.' Sam whined.

'Then pay with your mouth... go... get and do something of use. You owe me.'

'I owe you?' Sam spat back. 'I went through fucking hell getting you back again! How do I owe you?'

'Maybe because we're still in hell? Maybe because you're a stupid wank and did it wrong... I don't know! You will have to work that out for yourself. Levin, take the collar and put it on. I'll never keep you alive if you don't look like you belong to me. I wanted Spencer to wear it, but... well, I should have brought more collars with me, I guess. Sam... get moving! Run! Find somewhere for the next few hours.'

Sam shook his head, but was walking slowly in the direction Floyd had pointed. 'They will probably kill me.' Whining again. 'No one wants to put their cock in the mouth of someone with razor sharp shards in their mouth instead of teeth.'

'You'll figure something out. Get out of my sight before you become a splatter on the wall. I don't want to see you again until we have beds to sleep in. We'll wait here.' Floyd moved back now to lean against the wall. 'Levin, get your arse out of the middle of the road. Come and wrap those pretty lips around my aching penis.'

Levin was good at following orders. Spencer stood, trying not to look at the pretty blond man on his knees in front of Floyd. He didn't want to look at Floyd's hands on the top of Levin's head. He certainly didn't want to see that look on Floyd's face... that look which told Spencer that Levin was doing a pretty good job. Spencer wanted to watch where Sam had gone... half running and half skipping with the gradually fading sound of the chain between his legs... but his attention kept being drawn back to Floyd's hands, Levin's head... those twisting fingers, pulling at the hair so pale that in this strange light it looked almost white. Spencer's eyes drifted up to Floyd's face again and flinched as though he'd been hit again when he saw that Floyd was smirking and looking right back at him. Spencer wanted to feel disgusted. He wanted to pull Levin away and tell him that this display of loyalty – if that's what this was – was un-necessary, but no... Spencer didn't do that... and really he wasn't disgusted. It wasn't as though it was the first time Floyd had done this sort of thing... oh and more, much more, in front of him. It didn't disgust Spencer, but it hurt. It hurt like a clawed hand was holding his heart. He felt his face flush, his skin prickle... his breathing change to fast shallow intakes... and he felt his toes curl in his canvas boots.

Then it was over... almost too soon maybe? Floyd pushed Levin back onto his backside and stood there buttoning up his breeches again... still watching Spencer... still smirking. At last Spencer pulled his eyes away from Floyd, glanced at Levin and then stared off into the darkness.

'This is unlike... it's not... I've not been here before.' Spencer muttered. 'I thought hell was a black nothingness... a rubbery floor and...'

'Well just shows you that you don't know everything.' Floyd said as Levin scrambled to his feet and was instantly kicked back down by Floyd. Levin yelped and stayed there laying on the slightly lumpy dark floor. 'You can get up when I tell you to get up.' Floyd snapped at him. 'Why do you think you have any right to make a decision...?' Now Floyd looked in the direction Sam had gone. 'Everyone's hell is different, Spencer. The lower I fall... the lower I drag you with me... but I think Lev has been here before. Haven't you Lev?'

Levin looked up at Floyd with eyes which seemed to be silver in this light... silver eyes... silver hair... and that face which looked just a bit too perfect... 'Yes. I feel I have.' A quick pink tongue licked his lips... those lips which had been places they had no right being.

'So you see.' Floyd carried on. 'Levin is back here because this is his own personal hell.' He grabbed Spencer's hand. 'And you'll likely find that there's not one fucking book here... A truly hellish situation, no? You can get up now...' He gestured at Levin but was looking at Spencer as he spoke. 'My life started out really quite sparkly and nice. It got bad pretty quickly, but everything sparkly loses its glamour after a while. I had set out that day with the full intention of killing you. I was going to... I'll tell you... don't look so, what is that expression you have on your face? Take it off and put another there, maybe an interested one? Anyway, I was going to push you against a tree – I had it planned... I was going to wrap my hands around your throat and choke you... to unconsciousness, not to death – I was going to fuck you as you struggled to wake... that would have been good, so damned good. All that wriggling and crying and struggling... heaven... or as close. Then I would have flipped you onto your back and after licking every inch of flesh I could reach, I was going to rip your heart from your chest, sit there and eat... the liver too... obviously... but I wanted the heart torn away when it was still beating. That would have been, but that fucking bastard spoiled my day and my quarry escaped... I wanted it to be special. Little River was special. I remember everything I did that day I killed him. Anthony was special too... very special... I wanted you to join them in my little book of wondrous memories, but that didn't happen. It was taken from me and I really don't like things being taken from me, Spencer.'

Spencer opened his mouth and closed it again. He scratched at his neck and fiddled with the hem of his Tshirt. 'It wasn't my fault.' Spencer tried to reason with him.

'Of course it's your fault! You started getting old! I don't fuck old men! If you'd not... if you could stay just as you are now, then I'd have been happy, but no! You have to age. But now I've fixed that and it wasn't me who did it. You did it yourself. You... No going back now. No second chances. You proved to me that you're either fucking stupid, gullible, or loyal. Not sure which, but not the former or the latter... maybe? Now we are here.'

Was this lecture leading somewhere? Spencer didn't know, and was saved from a reply by the distant clanking of Sam returning. He appeared out of the gloom and sniffing and blinking his coal dark eyes, told Floyd that they had somewhere.

'The Lost Buckle.' He told them. 'One room... one big bed. Food available. And I've given a deposit, but I think they'll want more. I was going to suggest Levin.'

'Me?' Levin whispered.

'Fucking The Seraphim will be worth a few nights for us.' Sam explained. 'Me being groped by something with wings and a man with orange hair... not so much...' Sam shrugged. 'But I enjoyed it.'

Spencer wanted to ask more questions now, but was being dragged along by his hand. Floyd picked up the chain, now attached to a collar around Levin's neck and Sam was slightly ahead, guiding the way. The silence was terrible though... Spencer felt he had to fill it with words of some sort.

'You know that lack of natural sunlight gives you a deficiency in vitamin D. How long will we be underground for, because...'

His vocal distraction from what was going on around him was broken off. 'Who said we were underground?' Floyd asked him.

'Well... hell...'

'Isn't underground.' Floyd almost laughed at the concept. 'Too many silly books. You think that the planet you lived on is hollow?'

'Well no, I know it's not.' Spencer agreed.

'Then where is this underground place you are talking of?'

'I'm... It's...'

'No... forget all of that shit. You're correct in thinking that where we are now has no natural sunlight, but we'll be here weeks at the most and then onwards and... out... You're such a crazy fool sometimes. I wonder if you're brain damaged.'

As they walked together, back to where Sam said he'd found a bed for the night, Spencer noticed that small alcoves where beginning to turn up in the side of the wall. Some were at ground level, but looking upwards he could see them scattered around at all levels. They didn't look natural to Spencer. They were too neat. They'd been dug out for some reason, but they were probably only big enough for him to squeeze into... and some were much smaller... a few larger ones, but not many. The few soon turned into something more and appeared to almost honeycomb the walls higher up, out of reach. They also walked around cloth covered lumps laying in in the greasy gutters... There were more lamps here, the light much better, but the lamps dripped vile oils onto the floors and made rainbow coloured puddles and small streams which ran down small grooves in the floor and off into what he assumed were drains. The place stank... The same sort of smell you'd get from a glue factory... boiled bones. He found he was rubbing at his nose trying to get the smell out.

'What are these things?' He pointed at one of the little hollows in the wall. 'And this.' He gestured at another rag covered lump.

'Graves.' Floyd told him.

'Food.' Sam said at the same time as Floyd.

'People come here to die.' Levin let him know.

'What happens after that is up to the person who finds the corpse. Some are left. Some are not. If you come here to die you do it through choice, so please get that look off your face.'

'Why would someone choose to die here?' Spencer stepped over a lump on the floor which must have been no bigger than a child, but he had to remind himself that there were small creatures here. Size wasn't an indication of age. Sam was a good example of that.

'It's as good a place as any.' Floyd pulled Spencer along faster as their feet slid in the slime and oil on the floor. 'Don't panic, I'm not about to leave you here. You are far too precious to me for that.' But there was so much sarcasm in that statement that it sounded very much like that was exactly what Floyd would do.

'I'm already dead.' Spencer tried to point out.

Levin let out a snort of a laugh. 'You think something so simple can stop you dying again. This is a place of pure rebirth. Sam stabbed me... I am also dead, but I don't think that makes it safe to be here.'

'For sure.' Sam laughed. 'You think this is bad? Wait until you die down here... then you'll know the real meaning of hell.'

There were things moving around here now though. Things which looked almost human to Spencer's eyes at least. They walked on two legs and had one head and that was in the correct place, though the amount of arms and legs varied as much as skin colour and what passed as hair, or feathers or scales in some cases. At least Spencer would know where to look if trying to converse with one of them. Not that he had any plans of talking to them. Some were dressed, some not... some seemed to be totally encased in metal... and a few of those had jewels encrusted in patterns on the chest. Size varied too... they seemed mainly again to pass as human in size but some were small, stunted and had horns growing out of their heads. He saw a couple with black leathery, bat like wings on their backs. No one made eye contact... They all seemed not to trust the next person, or creature walking next to them. They grunted, snarled... hissed... and on one occasion, Sam hissed back.

'The mother fucker.' Sam then muttered under his breath. It seemed they'd traded insults, but whatever they'd been, Spencer never found out. 'This is the place.' A low doorway with green paint in swirling patterns above it. There was a red glow coming from within and the tempting smells of cooking and ale. Even Spencer was ready to try this place out. There was also the twanging of a musical instrument.

It was a big room with rows of benches carved from stone. In the centre was a fire pit with some thing slowly cooking, hanging from a chain. Spencer had been feeling hungry until he saw what it was cooking there... it was certainly not the hog roast he'd thought he'd been smelling. The music stopped. The chatter stopped. Faces turned to look at the new comers. A strapping female with breasts hanging down to her waist – a sagging stomach – grey flesh, pale eyes and bald, but definitely a female. Her pale and sagging skin hung like wings under her arms as she lifted them and waved a huge six fingered hand at Sam.

'Sweet.' She called to him. 'You were good on your promise.'

These words were followed by raucous laughter which seemed to go in rounds throughout the room. 'Always.' Sam nodded and slid onto a small stone bench next to a table. 'Drinks?' He asked the woman.

'Pay up first, little one. Pay up.' She slobbered towards the table and smiled black stumped teeth at them all.

Floyd glared at Sam and then at the woman and then back at Sam. 'What exactly did he offer? What is your price?'

'For food and lodgings?' She smiled and seemed to be moving towards Floyd until she saw Levin standing there trying to be invisible. 'Oh... Sweet! Him.' She jabbed a finger at Levin. 'Four hours. That'll get what you want.'

Spencer wanted to protest but Floyd had slapped a hand on Spencer's groin, under the table. 'One hour. He's very precious. I can't be without him for longer than that.'

'Three... and I'll let you tickle me.'

'I don't want to tickle you.' Floyd snapped at her. 'Two... board and lodgings two nights.'

'Done.' She smiled.

'And don't touch his face. He's worth nothing dead or too damaged. If you hurt his face I'll strangle you with your tits.'

'Oh such a promise.' She put her hand out to Levin. 'With me, little one.'

Again Spencer wanted to say something. Surely Floyd wasn't paying for their food and bed by pimping out Levin! He had no love for the man, but this was wrong.

'Floyd!' Spencer hissed.

'You will be quiet, Babes... or you can be the one pleasuring her. Get going Lev... Get it over with.'

Levin stared with blank eyes at Floyd and gave a small nod. 'She'll kill me. I'll get sucked into her cunt and never be seen again.'

'I suggest you hang onto something then.' Floyd gave Levin a small salute and watched as the woman... if that's what she was, dragged Levin to a fate worse than death. 'Be thankful I didn't offer you.' Floyd said in Spencer's ear. 'He'll be fine. You'll see.'

Drinks were served out of a large pottery jug. It wasn't the sort of drink you could take down quickly. It was incredibly bitter, but that didn't seem to stop either Floyd or Sam from chugging the stuff back as though it were water. Spencer though sipped slowly, his eyes flicking from the thing in the middle of the room to the door Levin had gone through.

'What is that?' Spencer was looking at the roast. 'Is it what it looks to be?' What it looked to be in Spencer's mind was a roasted person... no head and the hands and feet were gone... it was wrapped in chains and every so often it was turned... juices dripped from the creature and spat and sizzled in the fire. Yet, though it looked like a man being cooked up, Spencer's brain refused to accept that. Even the smells... even that, and sadly Spencer knew what roasted flesh smelt like... but still his brain wouldn't accept that it was there.

'Dinner.' Floyd replied. 'You might want to have something else though.'

'It looks human.' Spencer whispered, though the noise in this tavern was building up again now that they'd got used to the strangers in their midst.

Floyd shrugged. 'Like I said... you might want to have something else. Not that eating the flesh of a human has ever upset you too much.' Floyd squeezed his leg just as the first screams from beyond the door filtered through.

Sam recognised it as Levin and turned quickly to look. Was that a look of concern on his face? Spencer wasn't too sure. Floyd was looking too... and listening to the long drawn out howl of agony.

'Do something?' Spencer said, half getting up from the stone bench.

'What exactly do you want me to do? This is no place to spoil for a fight, Spencer. You don't want to end up like him do you?' Indicating the roasting person.

The screams carried on... terror or pain... or both, but there was nothing nice going on beyond that door. 'You sent him in there.' Spencer told Floyd. 'Go and help him.'

Floyd shook his head. 'No. He's paying for our food and bed. Let him. It keeps us safe.'

'She's killing him!' Again Spencer went to stand and again Floyd pulled him back to sit again. 'I will go alone if you don't come with me.'

'You?' Sam laughed. 'Don't... For my life, Spencer... you say the funniest things at the worst times. Just sit and be happy that's not you. Some of those female things have teeth in their cunts. She's probably biting his cock off... Ah... food.' Sam cleared a place on the table as a small black thing of questionable gender put a bowl of something brown on the table and a dish of something which looked like bread.

'Don't eat that.' Floyd moved it away from Spencer. 'Eat this.' And handed him a chunk of gritty looking bread.

Sam was already dipping in his bread and sucking the brown juice out, letting it dribble down his chin and drip onto his bare chest.

And the howling and screaming died down slightly... whether that was good or bad, Spencer didn't know. He nibbled carefully at the edge of the bread... it was very gritty, as though it had been baked in sand. But it didn't taste too awful.

'Is Levin like you?' Spencer asked Floyd. 'Is he an angel?'

'Levin...' Floyd glanced at the door and then at Sam before dipping in his own bread and sucking out the brown. 'No... no he's not... he's from where I'm from though. He's a lesser being. Like a squire to a knight... a servant... a messenger. He fucked up almost as badly as I did. Was given another chance to redeem himself and continued to fuck up. Hence his unfortunate life.'

Another nibble at the bread and a sip of the drink. 'What did he do in Russia? Why did they burn him?'

'He offered them things he couldn't deliver. He told them he could stop the winter snow. He said if they fed him and housed him that he'd keep the snow away. He told them if they gave him their first born sons that he'd save them... save the child and save the village. He lied. Of course he lied. He fucked the boys... the ones of age... butchered the ones who were too young or too old and ugly and it still snowed. They broke into the place he was living and discovered their boys raped and hanging on hooks ready for him to eat during the winter. He was dragged out, tied to an old dead tree. They piled his things around him... his chair, clothing... his furs... his holy relics, and they set fire to the lot. He died in agony. He deserved it.'

'Why on earth? Why?'

'Because you're born in the light, doesn't mean you belong there. The Seraphim might look innocent and sweet, but he's gradually getting to be on a par with me. The only thing that stops him is youth. He's not been around so long. I will kill him. Pretty as he is... and he knows I will. This is why I can control him for now... just for now. It won't last. Don't turn your back on him. Sam did what came naturally to him when he felt threatened by Levin. I'm not saying he did the right thing... but I'm glad he did... now I'm glad he did. The Seraphim can only hide for so long. He'll show his true colours soon. Watch out for him Spencer.'

'Levin and The Seraphim are the same person?'

'As much as Floyd is Isgar.' Floyd told him. 'Depends on who you're talking to and what you want. Eat up and drink... I'm going to get me a hunk of what's cooking over the fire.'

This time it was Spencer who pulled Floyd back down to sit. 'Please, please don't.'

'Does it upset your sensitive nerves, Babes? You're going to have to get used to a lot of things. The sweet ale, the flesh of creatures you've never seen before. That thing over there is just food. That's all.'

'You know it's not.' Annoyance was in Spencer's voice now. 'You've sent Levin off the be tortured by some gross monster. You've let creatures grope Sam... and now you're going to take a step further than I can stomach. If you go over there, I'm leaving. I'm not staying here to watch you do that. I'll find my own way somewhere. I'm not going to sit here and watch you slice flesh of that which looks too much like it could be me.'

Floyd placed his hand over the one Spencer had gripping at his sleeve. He stroked the back of it gently... rubbing his thumb over the side of Spencer's fingers and then before Spencer knew what was happening, he was laying across the table, food bowl went flying, drinks were snatched up by Sam and Floyd had Spencer's arm up behind his back. There was a slight pause in the sad melody the man on the small harp was playing and then it started up again as Floyd leaned on Spencer and spoke harshly into his ear. 'Never tell me what to do. Never imply that what I've done isn't what should be done. I don't make errors. Levin is getting what he deserves and I'll eat what I fucking well want. You want to walk off and leave us, then do so... go... fuck off and see how far you get.'

'Not far.' Sam muttered. 'Can we have more broth?'

'You chose to be here. I'll protect you as long as you want it.'

'I never chose.' Spencer spat back at Floyd. The edge of the table was digging into his hip and it felt as though Floyd was about to pop his arm out of the shoulder. 'I chose to die. I didn't expect to come here.'

'You're not a nice person, Spencer. You're a tart... a bawd... a slag and a bit of a shit... That's why you're here. You're as cursed as I am... as Sam is... as Levin is... this is what you deserve. When I was rotting, where were you?'

'You... Get off me!' Spencer wriggled and kicked back, but all he hit was the leg of the small bench he'd been sitting on.

'Fine... piss off. Don't expect me to come and rescue you. This is your hell as much as it is mine. I'll eat, drink and fuck what I want. No little snot rat is going to order me around.' Floyd let go of Spencer and backed away. 'Go... fuck off!' He pulled Spencer off the table by the back of his Tshirt and propelled him in the direction of the door. 'Get the hell out!'

Again the music paused and this time the talking stopped too. All eyes were looking at Spencer. Some licking lips. Some rubbing groins. Some just out of curiosity. Spencer backed away. He didn't want to leave. He just wanted to make sense of what was going on... and that was something he couldn't do right now. Nothing made any damned sense at all! He smacked his head on the top of the door then slid out into the street outside. The chatter started. The music commenced... no one followed.

'Now what?' Sam asked him.

'Let him struggle alone for a few days or hours. I'll pick up what's left of him.'

'You'll be picking him up off someone's dinner plate.' Sam snapped. 'Go get him. I'll go get him.'

'You won't. We both wait here. We take the room Levin has paid for and we eat what is provided. We make no fuss and we don't cause trouble and if I want to eat something I'll bloody well eat it.' Floyd gave Sam a stay there you fucker look and walked over to where the roast was beginning to be hacked at by customers.

Spencer left the place in a hot rush of anger. This wasn't the Floyd he'd loved. This was some malicious, insidious – dare he think it... Bitch! Floyd was spiteful, he knew that. He knew that he said harsh things, did harsher things, but there'd always been some kind of... understanding between them. He didn't think that was quite the right word... maybe not understanding and he knew that for Floyd to say that he loved him was a miracle and said on the rare occasion that Floyd wasn't fully functional or aware. Floyd would never say that and actually want him to think he meant it. But this outright lack of caring was a side of Floyd he didn't see often and really didn't want to see again.

There were more places like the one he'd just left, different music, but much the same smells drifting from them and now the hunger was gone, it just made him retch and want to bring up the small amount of grit filled bread he'd nibbled on.

Floyd had been right though. Spencer knew that much... Floyd knew him well and knew that he was a liar and a cheat. But that had always been to protect Floyd or Sam! He'd done that for them. And he'd taken his own life because Floyd wanted him to! What more dedication could you possibly show a man! He'd trusted him when he shouldn't have. He'd loved him when he'd been told that was an insane thing to do. Floyd always said that Sam was a leach... sucking love from you until there was nothing left to give, but Floyd was the same. It didn't matter what you gave him or what you said or did for him, he wanted more... ignored what you'd done and said and promised and stamped all over it with more demands. Spencer had had enough... at least for now. He wanted to find somewhere quite and be alone for a while. He needed to think without the sounds of Levin's screams and Sam's little comments... and that look on Floyd's face, as though he believed nothing he heard and liked nothing he saw. This Floyd was a twisted monster and Spencer could love him no more than he could love... well... Sam.

Something bumped into him distracting him from his fury. 'You alone?' A rough voice asked him. This thing was about Spencer's height but a lot wider. Apart from that he looked almost normal.

'No.' Spencer tried to push on by.

'You look alone.' The voice snarled at him. 'Let me take you somewhere. I'll show you some things.'

'No... no thank you.' He started to move out of the man's way... this man with a long sharp nose and tight red lips... his hair was long and hanging to his shoulders in greyish brown, greasy lumps. And it was that hair that Spencer was looking at when he should have been looking at the hands which grabbed Spencer by the waistband of his jeans and began to pull him towards a unlit alleyway.

'Get off.' Spencer flailed at him, kicked out at him... tried to wrestle himself free... how long had he been on his own? Ten minutes... maybe half an hour... and he was being dragged off into the dark already... and the smells changed. That hot smell of boiling bones changed to the smell of death, blood, shit... and all the horrors which made those things. He tried holding on the edges of small doorways, but his fingers just slipped away. The stone worn too smooth for him to keep a grip. He could hear that he was shouting for help... he could see eyes glinting in the darkness and he could see that no one was going to assist him.

'What do you want from me?' Spencer eventually asked when the man stopped with his dragging and stood in front of a tall narrow opening with a stink coming from the other side like nothing Spencer had had the pleasure to smell before. He imagined it would smell like this on an ancient battle field when the men had laid there dying with their bodies smashed and their guts laying next to them for a few days. He retched and that small bit of bread finally made its way back up again. But he didn't get an answer. He was pushed through the door into a room which was obviously a butchers shop, only there were no sheep or pigs hanging on the hooks on the wall. Those things looked very human to Spencer. Some recently dead. Some crawling with maggots. Two of them looked to be breathing still.

He didn't just stand there and let them hang him from a hook. He fought. He punched, used his elbows, used his feet... he knocked one thing flying and smashed another in the face with an elbow and almost made it to the door once, but the floor was slick with blood and now knives were appearing and small axes and Spencer was standing in a corner with six human looking things in leather aprons waving weapons at him... one of them had told him to strip... He didn't. He stood there ready to fight them. There was hot blood running down his arm, his knee felt wrong and he could taste blood in his mouth. He was ready for them. He'd not go down without a fight. He'd not be hung on a hook to die. Not him... yet suddenly they were on him, tearing at his clothing, ripping and cutting it from him, grabbing his hair and pushing him against a corpse dangling there with white bloated flesh and things wriggling in the wounds. Something sharp touched the side of his neck... something hot and wet ran down his legs... the knee he was having a problem with gave way and the other leg seemed to want to do the same.

'Let him go.' It was a far away voice... a million miles away through a deep black fog, but it was Floyd's voice. 'I said let him go.'

'What's it to you?' That was the voice of the one who'd so easily grabbed him in the street.

'He's my mate. My bed partner. My fuck. My little cunt. He's mine. He's not for you to butcher.'

Spencer opened his eyes... he hadn't realised that he'd closed them. Being naked and standing there with the point of the hook just under his chin didn't really make Spencer feel all that brave. He was obviously glad to see Floyd standing there with a boy of about ten years old standing in front of him. Floyd had a hand on the boy's head and another on his shoulder. 'Tender... young and tender.' Floyd said and again Spencer wanted to throw up.

'Floyd no.' He muttered... or thought... maybe he didn't say it because Floyd ignored him.

'Swap you.' The boy was shoved in the direction of the head butcher.

The lad screamed and tried to run, but Floyd grabbed him, carried him to a gap in the wall and like the boy was nothing more than a decoration hung the boy by one of the deadly hooks. Spencer saw the look on the boy's face... he saw the blood flowing out of his neck and saw the way the boy kicked and thrashed and then just dangled there. 'There... swap complete. Give me my boy back.'

Spencer didn't remember going back to the tavern. He didn't remember walking up the steps to the room Sam had got and Levin had paid for. He didn't remember laying on the bed and curling up wanting so much to die... again. He couldn't close his eyes because when he did he saw what Floyd did. When but when they were open he could see the mess Levin was in... Spencer was naked. Levin had been stripped of his clothing too and there didn't seem to be an inch of his body that hadn't been battered, burnt, bitten and abused. Levin sat on the floor with his arms around his shins and sobbed into his knees. Sam was sitting on the end of the bed rocking back and forth and Floyd was standing with his back to the door – his eyes almost twitching in the speed they were looking from one of his boys to the next.

'You killed that child.' Spencer finally managed to say between his sobbing breaths.

'I did what needed to be done.' Floyd snapped back at him. 'We all have to do what needs to be done. You want to stay alive then you have to be brutal. You have to give back what's expected. You wanted to die there in that place? You pissed yourself... I think that's a good indication that you didn't like what was going on. I rescued you. I didn't have time to search for someone to replace you. I took what was available. Stop moaning. I've called for a medic to look at your knee. It looks smashed. I can't heal that here... not now... not yet. I don't know how I'm going to pay him.'

'No.' Levin cried. 'Not me... not again.'

Floyd gave Levin a glance. 'No, not you.' He then looked over at Sam.

'Not me either.' Sam whined. 'It's his fault for going off alone. I did what I was told. I'm wearing these things around my ankles. Maybe if you weren't so fucking soft and gave Spencer leg irons too, then he'd not have been taken.'

Floyd nodded. 'That's true. But it doesn't change what has happened.'

'No.' Sam snapped this time. 'You had to go running after Spencer because he doesn't like what he sees. He's a selfish coward. Now one of us is going to get hurt because he thinks he's too good to be here, but he'd not be here in the first damned place if he was so fucking perfect. I'm not going to be given to some medic because Spencer thinks he's better than us.'

Floyd looked at Levin again who was looking back now. His eyes were puffy and red, but apart from that there were no marks on his face. The damage seemed to stop at his shoulders. 'No... it will kill me.' Levin said. 'I can't do that again. Think of something else.'

'Get another rat.' Sam suggested.

Floyd slid down the door so that he was sitting and ran his fingers through his hair. 'I'll sort something. Levin is right. Can't use him again today. He needs to rest. Sam...'

'NO!' Sam shouted. 'I'm not paying for it. Spencer should.'

'Sam... go down to the tavern and ask for some drinks and food to be brought up. Levin, get on the bed. You will feel better if you're laying down. Spencer, that child was just a street rat. They nearly all end up in the cooking pot. It's what's expected. This isn't America. This isn't the world you come from. Things are done differently here. Flesh is currency as is pain. They feed off it. Remember that. And Sam when you go down, see about getting another set of leg irons.'

'And how am I going to pay for them?' Sam asked as he got to his feet.

'I'm sure you'll think of something. Come on boys. It's not all bad. We're all still alive aren't we?'

The medic was a tall, bent backed man of some ancient years. A long dark grey beard was tucked into a belt at his waist. He wore a long brown robe and had deep lines on his face, but he seemed kind and alert. But that was really nothing to go by. A kind face meant nothing. Levin had pulled his leather coat on again but the leather jeans he'd had on under it had been torn to shreds. For now he just buttoned up the coat and wore it like a long dress. It covered all the marks on his body. Sam sat in a corner and watched, ready to run if Floyd tried to pay the medic with his arse. He didn't mind helping out if it was for him as well, but he wasn't going to do that for Spencer. Sam felt he'd done enough for him and got not thanks back... at least not enough thanks. Oddly it was Levin who sat next to Sam and wrapped an arm around him in an almost loving way. Sam was instantly suspicious but Levin really seemed to want nothing more than a hug. Sam gave in and returned it. It was nice to snuggle with Levin. He was just the right shape and size to rest against.

Spencer howled when the medic straightened his leg. The medic made tutting and humming sounds as he probed and Floyd paced.

'I won't have to take the leg off, but he can't walk on it for a while. I'll put on a poultice and strap it up. I'll come back in a couple of days. The wound on the arm is deep but it will heal quickly. I'll poultice that too.' He looked at Floyd who nodded and then went to his bag and pulled out a collection of bits. Floyd was watching carefully. Spencer noted that... was it concern that the man wasn't doing his job? Did Floyd care? When the medic had finished and cleared his stuff away, he warned Spencer to stay off his leg at least until the following day when he'd come back and check, but he thought it was going to be out of action for a while. He hoped they had the funds or ability to pay for the room. The medic looked over at Sam and Levin and nodded at them. Sam snuggled closer to Levin who in turn held Sam tighter.

'Now for payment.' The medic looked at Floyd.

'Outside.' Floyd gestured at the door. 'Boys, stay here.' And Floyd left in a rush of breeches and long dark coat, slamming the door behind him.

The three left in the room stared at each other, Spencer pulling a sheet up over his nakedness and Sam and Levin seemingly holding on tighter to each other. Things would work out so much better if everyone could decide exactly how they felt about each other, but feelings, love, loathing... they seemed to come and pass like some kind of disease and though Spencer hated that Floyd had handed over what appeared to be a child, his heart was also swelling with love that he'd come for him and rescued him from a situation he'd put himself in and had nearly died. Spencer listened out for sounds coming from outside. He didn't know what Floyd was doing, but if it was anything like Levin had done then they'd hear shouts... surely?

Now Spencer looked at Levin and spoke quietly. 'Are you going to be all right? Nothing broken?'

'My pride.' Levin sighed back. 'That is something which takes a lot of care to fix.'

Sam smiled a lazy but happy smile at Lev. 'I'll care for you, but if you hit me I'll put a knife in you again.'

'Oh I believe that.' Levin said. 'I'll not hit you.' And the two of them fell into a hugging and loving embrace... lips and hands doing what lips and hands did best.

Spencer sighed and looked at the door again. He wanted to tell Sam to go and find Floyd, but he didn't for one moment think that Sam would leave his new love... or was it an old love? What ever it was, Sam wouldn't leave Levin to go look for Floyd. Spencer would have gone himself but for the fact that he didn't think he could stand on his bad leg. But, yes, he wanted to go... maybe just to do nothing – just watch... as he had watched Levin. This got Spencer looking at the pair of them again... laying on the floor now, Sam sitting astride Levin and leaning forward kissing him hard on the mouth. A few moments went by before Spencer could honestly say that it wasn't Levin he'd been watching before, but Floyd. He moved slightly to get a better look at Sam, but even so... it was Sam, not Floyd... it didn't feel even slightly erotic... it was just like voyeurism. Spencer looked at the door again.

How long had Floyd been gone? Long enough for Levin to get Sam's jeans down and for the fun to have changed there slightly. It was Sam laying on his back with Levin sitting on his legs, leaning bent double and enjoying whatever it was he was doing. The chains between their ankles seemed to be stopping some of the fun they were after, but they were managing... if Sam's squeaks and yelps was anything to go by...

Then Floyd was coming back through the door. Levin didn't stop what he was doing... and Floyd walked to sit on the bed next to Spencer as though there weren't two pretty boys having sex in the middle of the floor. Floyd gave Spencer a small smirk.

'All sorted and paid for.'

Spencer nodded. He wanted to know what it was Floyd had done, but dared not ask.

'I'm... I didn't...' Spencer muttered... trying to say he was sorry without actually saying the forbidden word.

'No matter. We all have to adapt to the situation. Street rats are easy to come by.'

'A street rat? I don't understand.'

'The man wanted something to fuck. Sam wouldn't. Levin couldn't... you were injured... what did you think I was going to do? Let him do me? You're obviously still in shock if you thought that. Don't look at me like that, Spence. Much of what you'll see here isn't as it appears to be. I'm attempting to keep us safe. If that costs the arse of some underling, then that's what's going to happen. They are wary of me. That very subtle bit of goodness I have hidden somewhere is very much visible to this lot. All the time I've got the upper hand, I'll use it. The rats are nothing. They're used as food. They're nothing more than stray dogs.'

Spencer nodded, trying to get to grips with the idea of that. 'Where do they come from? Are they born here or did they arrive as we did?'

'Born here, Babes. They are nothing... they are soulless scum. A bit like Sam in that. Sam would have died many years ago had he been here alone. That sort don't last long. Far down the food and fuck chain. He's just lucky he's with me... You... now you're a different matter totally. You're not food. I think those butchers were after skinning you. Eating you would have been secondary. Either way, I'd like you to wear leg irons. They let people know that you belong to someone. Did Sam actually go get some? I thought I'd told him to.' Floyd picked a pillow up off the bed and threw it at Sam and Levin. 'You two... Sam... stop now, if you don't mind. Go get the food and drink and some irons for Spencer.'

Sam who was at this point on his front, pushed Levin out of the way and rolled over. Leaning on his elbows he frowned at Floyd. 'It's not that I don't want food and drink or even to see Spencer in irons, but I don't want to go down there alone and Levin is a target now. If I ask for something they'll take Lev as payment and...'

'And that bothers you.' Floyd finished for him. 'They owe us food. Go get the food and drink. That's paid for all ready. Leave Levin here. Levin can take that collar off for a while and Spence can wear it. I'll sort something better out later. Everyone happy now?'

Spencer wasn't happy, but he kept his mouth shut. His leg hurt and his arm was throbbing. He didn't like the idea of having to stay in this place until he was well enough to walk, yet that had certainly been his own doing. He should never have left the protection of the pack. They needed to stay together. Except for Sam who seemed to be able to be alone for a short while and Floyd who apparently knew what he was doing. That didn't change the fact that two people had lost their lives because of his own idiocy.

'I know you said they are just street rats, but I am still feeling that it was wrong to kill that boy at the butchers.' Spencer let Floyd know.

Floyd had stood from the bed and gone over to look at Levin, who was getting dressed again after Sam had removed his long coat. There was a lot of flesh on show as Floyd stood over him lighting up one of his cheroots. 'You would rather I had left you there?' Floyd asked Spencer... and then carried on, not waiting for an answer. 'Of course not. You are glad I came to your aid. You didn't want to die there. What do you want to have happened? You wanted your hero to come screaming in and kill everyone? You would rather I'd have killed those butchers? Six of them. Six dead is preferable to one. I don't understand that sort of reasoning, Babes...' He hunkered down next to Levin and ran a finger over his lips. 'I'm going to make sure that you get what you deserve, Lev. I hope you only deserve wondrous things.' He then looked up at Spencer who was laying on the bed but watching everything going on. 'You'll get used to it.'

'Used to what?' Spencer now asked, as Floyd slid a hand inside Levin's coat. 'The way you grope everyone? Or the way you throw children to their death and think nothing of it.'

'Both.' Floyd moved back from Levin and wiped his hand on the leg of his breeches. 'You don't like me touching?'

'I don't like you touching. For some odd reason I get feelings of deep discontent when I see you do that to someone like that. All Levin is, is a highly paid whore. You don't need him.'

Floyd jumped to his feet with a smirk on his face. 'I love you when you get all jealous. It puts such a cute expression on your face... so hurt... so very hurt. But I'll touch who I want, when I want... I don't need him, but sometimes, just sometimes... I want. Is there nothing besides my cock that you want? No special and secret desires?'

Spencer swallowed but said nothing. Admitting anything was a direct route to being slapped and he was in too much pain today for that. 'Nothing you don't all ready know about.'

'Hotchner. You liked the way he watched you shower. You liked the way his eyes followed you. I know that. You don't have to tell me. I know you wanted him... even just to see what it was like to be fucked by him... I know.'

'You asked for secret desires. If you know that – then it's not a secret.' Spencer countered.

'I see. So I'm right? You wanted Hotch?'

'I never said that. You're putting words into my mouth. I'm not going to admit to something just so you can beat me bloody and tell me I deserved it. You'll have to find another reason.'

'I don't need a reason.' Floyd told him. 'Anyway – food and drink soon. Time to relax. Tomorrow the medic will see to your leg again and I might wander out and pick up some clothing for you. I am assuming you don't want to walk around naked.'

'You are correct.' Spencer told him. 'I'll come with you.'

'No... not on that poorly leg of yours. I'll go alone.'

'And how will you pay for this clothing?'

Floyd sighed and closed his eyes for a while. Spencer would never understand how things worked here. There was no point in going over it all again. 'That's not your concern.' Floyd told him. Whatever method of payment the vendor wanted, Floyd would provide, but he wasn't going to go through the rule of barter with someone who only understood his own narrow way of life. It was time for Spencer to spread his proverbial wings and start living.

'It's my concern if you're going to kill someone just to clothe me.'

And Spencer was off... whining and moaning about loss of life compared to the cost of a pair of breeches and Floyd really wasn't interested in listening. Ask Floyd and he'd have called it a love tap. Ask Spencer and he'd say Floyd punched him in the mouth. Levin would have no opinion, but it stopped the noise coming out of Spencer's mouth. Floyd tucked the sheet in around him and looked over at Levin. 'Come here.'

Levin shook his head. 'I'm in pain.'

'You weren't in too much pain to play come fuck me with Sam. Do I not stir you in the same way Sam does?'

'You broke into my apartment and scared the hell out of me. You threatened me. You told me I had to be nice to Sam and that's what I'm doing. I never meant to hurt him. He should have left me when I was having a nightmare... all would have been fine. He should have just ignored me. But I'm being good to him. I'll protect him if I can and I'll show him love... I just didn't think he'd accept it from me again after what happened.' Levin picked at a button on the front of his beautiful coat. 'What are you going to do with me? You can't keep me here. Someone will eventually get to me. I can't disguise what I am for long. I'm not powerful like you. You can hide it... you cover it somehow, but I'm not you.'

'We can thank the gods for that small mercy. I'll not let anything mortal happen to you. Not unless it's me doing the killing. You'll be perfectly safe with me.'

'But if I die down here... Floyd you know what will happen.'

'I know. Eternal death... burning constantly forever... That's a fucking long time. But you were born of fire and you'll return to it. In my soul I carry something harder than diamond... and colder than ice. Whatever light is still there is dim and not worth much. You... you however...'

'So you will kill me.' Levin said rather than asked.

'If needs be. Your job is to ensure that time never happens. If I can get us out of here... at least out of The Maze and to the jungles... maybe things will be better there.'

Levin's face fell... his silvery eyes twinkled in alarm though. 'The jungle? You are not really serious about that, are you? You're jesting.'

'We need to be able to get food and not have to pay for it the way we have been. It's not something I want to make too much of a habit of. But if someone is going to be my coin, it'll be you. So... maybe we can hunt our own food somewhere else. Spencer won't eat the rats from here and there is that or other living creatures which I'm sure he'll be just as adverse to. So we will go and hunt food and we will survive, because that is what we have to do.'

'And if I don't want to?'

'Then leave. Leave. But you'll get no further than Spencer did earlier and I'm not coming looking for you. You'll be on a spit within the hour. Juicy little thing like you.'

Levin's face went back to the expressionless visage he liked to carry. He shook his head and tucked his long fair hair behind his ears. 'You hate me.'

'Hate is the wrong word. I revile you. If I had my choice I'd not help you. I'd stand by and watch these locals rip you apart. You repulse me, Levin. But you're here and you keep Sam happy and you will continue to keep Sam happy because a happy Sam is a cute and nice Sam. And we don't want that other Sam to show his colours.' Floyd looked at the door. Footsteps were approaching. 'When you show your own colours, Levin – I will destroy you.' The door opened and Floyd went back to smoking and Levin back to picking at his button. Sam stood in the doorway with a large bowl of food and a serving creature behind him with bottles of drink, mugs and some bread.

a/n: I've been ill. Sorry for the delay. At least I would be sorry if I didn't feel that word was meaningless. But if a part of me felt remorse for delivering this chapter late, then I'd be sorry. I'm not. xoxoxoxox