New day, new chapter!
As always, thanks for the reviews and favs.
Okay, so after several suggestions, looking into it, and finally getting the invite to go through, I have started up an Archive of Our Own to host this story on as well. I will try to keep it on a similar update scheduled to this one, though it is starting far behind. I have begun writing the more "explicit" parts to this story to be added in and they will be posted over there. This site hates links, but you should be able to find it under Steel Leashes by Sulla_of_Rome.
Again, the dark themes continue in this chapter. I'm glad to see some folks actually are okay with my OC guys who have shown up. Hopefully that stays the same, but we'll have to see. Luke can be an...interesting guy to deal with, both in story and as a character. I now have two original novels with him that I'm sort of editing and may put up somewhere, someday, though they're a lot further back in the timeline than this and this could be considered an alternate universe for him and the Jarls. Which, honestly...might be a good thing for Maggie. Who knows what wyrd has in store and how butterflies effect things.
Chapter 18
It took Luke two days to heal. Astrid insisted on joining their training sessions, though she used a practice hammer rather than her real one. Shego was grateful for that, because the woman was absolutely brutal when training and both she and Ron had bruises from their efforts.
Sadly, laying around with Ron reading to her had to be put off, but ended up being replaced with swapping stories of their adventures and at one point showing off scars. Astrid claimed to have fought a Grendel, which had given her a long scar along her side. Shego showed off one she'd gotten in Roanapour during a bar fight. Ron showed off a bite scar he'd gotten fighting Monkey Fist. Astrid decried the lack of booze to toast to warrior's wounds, so they settled for toasting with more coffee.
Finally Luke came out, looking like death that had been reheated in a cheap microwave way too many times, but freshly showered and clean. Given the absolutely horrible hacking sounds and general misery they'd heard from inside his room, Shego had worried he wasn't going to make it.
"Is there any food?" He asked weakly as Astrid helped him to the table. Ron produced first a bowl of soup, then a second, then a third, which the man weakly wolfed down, gratefully. Ron stayed protectively close to Shego when he wasn't cooking, and she was happy for the attention.
"Are you fit to fight," Astrid asked sternly, after he'd finished.
"I can well enough if I must," Blackwolf said with an exhausted nod. Shego highly doubted the man's words. He looked like a stiff breeze would blow him down. Astrid merely snorted.
"Fine. We've exhausted all the supplies here and there is nothing to drink. I am going to the store." She told Blackwolf firmly, "you are to behave and be kind to our guests."
"I am always kind to guests," Luke said. Astrid gave him a glare that could melt iron, and the man wilted. "I will try to be kinder to guests."
"See that you do," Astrid said. Then she softened and gave him a half hug, kissing the top of his head, before striding out of the trailer.
"Do you need help back to bed?" Shego asked.
The dark haired man shook his head, "No, it is better I be up for a bit." He said, his voice raw, "But I would not say no to more helpings of soup."
Shego shooed her Master to go and make more despite his silent protests. She turned back to the older man. "So," she half whispered, "England?"
Blackwolf gave her a very tired, almost broken stare. "You know?" he asked.
"Astrid said you did something over there, if that's what you mean," Shego said, "If you mean what was happening there...I'd heard rumors. Everyone on the other side has."
A look of pure guilt spread over the man's face. "It wasn't enough," he said softly, "I don't think I could ever do enough if I had a hundred years, and I had to leave before it was done."
"What happened?" she asked. Anything she could learn about the man, anything she could use to protect her Master, she needed to know.
"A girl prayed," he said softly. "A girl prayed as she and her twin sister were tortured and raped for days on end. No other God answered, and she grew desperate. So she prayed to a goddess of death she'd seen in a movie, a goddess of blades and fury and murder. And she got a goddess of death and sickness and little girls. A goddess who'd gotten too many little girls just like her in her halls by their own hands."
"So she sent me." He said, looking broken. "And I got there. But it was too late for the sister, and as for the girl herself there wasn't anything left to save really. She was alive, but her soul was even more broken than her body. So I gave her the Goddess's Peace." His fist clenched on the table.
"You killed her?" Shego asked, feeling cold.
"I ended her suffering," he said. "She was so badly mangled internally from the rape that I suspect the only way to save her would have been to remove everything. All the fingers from her left hand were gone, and her right arm was flayed so much I saw more bone than skin. I think at one point she'd tried to run, because they'd taken a hammer and smashed her feet. And they'd beaten her. Her every breath was begging for it to stop, begging for someone to just kill her. Maybe she could have lived with enough treatment, but they'd have just gone for her again, and no one should have to live with what she'd suffered. So I granted her request."
"Oh," Shego said looking at the table.
"There was no justice for those little girls." Blackwolf said, "I tried, but no amount of evidence or bringing the perps to the cops would do anything. They refused to charge them, and instead tried to arrest me for hate crimes, because I was accusing these men and inciting racial tensions. Then I met some locals who explained the full extent of what was happening, beyond what I had read online."
"In the absence of Justice, there could be retribution for the wrongs done to them at least. So I set out to show the Goddess's Fury upon them. The men died screaming, most of them anyways. So did the cops." Blackwolf said, his eyes burning.
"Astrid said you also killed women and children." Shego said softly.
Blackwolf nodded. "Many wives and mothers knew," he spat, "Hell they encouraged it. The girls were whores and animals, they deserved it. And if it kept their husbands' attentions and brutality away from them, so much the better. Better her son rape some English pig than dishonor a good Muslim girl. Allah willed it, that's what they were there for. So why not hire a girl for an afternoon so her young teen son could become a man and spend his sexual energies in a way Allah approved, rather than in some sinful way?"
"They were all guilty," he said as Ron set more soup in front of him. "So I punished them."
He tucked into the soup eagerly if tiredly. The silence stretched out, broken only by the clink of the spoon against the bowl. Shego took Ron's hand back in hers.
"If you felt that strongly about it," Shego asked, "And if the problem is as extensive as I've heard...why did you stop?"
"Another girl prayed," he said softly, "This time back in the states. So I had a choice. I could seek to keep slaughtering in England, or I could race back to the States and try and get there in time to save someone still alive."
"D-did you make it?" Ron asked.
Blackwolf sagged. "In a fashion." He said, a deep sadness filling his voice. "She lives, still. Damaged, broken, constantly afraid that the people responsible will find her again and silence her, even if the man who hurt her directly can never again touch her. Death probably would have been a mercy, but she begged to live, so I granted her request."
"And you never went back?" Shego asked.
"No," Blackwolf said, "I'm sure I could get back in the country, though literally everyone would be hunting me the instant I stepped foot back there. Not that I mind, it's easier when the foe comes to you. But there's so much to be done, and not enough time to do it. And it's better to cut the filth from the source, rather than spend your life mopping up the shit. Helping that girl put me onto the group that took her. That group led me to another group, and a group above them deep in the government, which was then connected to an international organization."
"Which is actually where you two come in," He said, looking at them. "I don't know what you did, or what they thought you would do, but the people who got you declared an animal are part of that group, with other members deep in the upper levels of GJ's command structure."
"So we're bait," Shego said, her temper rising. "You're using us as bait."
Blackwolf shook his head. "Bait is best used out in the open," he said, "You're more...blackmail. Something hidden that they don't want getting out, but desperately want to possess themselves. Except instead of having them send me money or do me favors, I get them to send their puppets after me so I can trace them back and find out who exactly I'm after."
"And how exactly is that going?" Shego asked icily.
"Was going great until a couple days ago." Blackwolf said, scraping his bowl clean.
"The government building and the napalm?" Ron asked, squeezing her hand.
"Yeah, that," Blackwolf said leaning back and giving a soft burp. "Everyone was distracted by the fires and I'd managed to find a terminal I thought had the information I needed. Turns out it was a bomb instead. I don't know if they were planning for me specifically, or if it was just a general booby trap, but it almost got me. Suddenly I'm surrounded by agents and everything went down hill. I managed to fight my way out cause they thought the bomb would kill me, and ran into Astrid on the street. We spent a day avoiding pursuit and she brought me back here."
Shego sighed. None of this was sounding good. "Well, there goes our chance," she said softly.
"Chance at what?" Blackwolf looked at her quizzically.
"Chance at getting back at a normal life," She said tiredly, "You're basically a terrorist, they want you dead, and Master and I are associated with you so we're going to go down for what you've done too."
"First off," Blackwolf said tiredly, "you're a goyim woman who is legally the pet of a Jew. Normal was not part of your lives to begin with." He looked speculative for a moment, "Though from what I hear of Hollywood maybe that is normal..."
Ron bristled. "Excuse me?" He snarled.
"You're excused?" Blackwolf said, curiously.
"Do you have a problem with Jews?" Ron asked hotly.
Blackwolf blinked, then looked at Ron, then sighed. "I am not what you would call a fan," he said after a moment.
Ron stood up, angry. "Great!," he said, "Just fucking great!"
Blackwolf looked thoughtful for a moment. "Ah," he said, "Astrid would say I have said something rude."
"No fucking kidding!" Ron spat. He threw his hands through his hair. "Great, just great. We're on the run, our lives are completely fucked, and we're stuck in the middle of the woods with a fucking anti-Semite!"
A very dangerous anti-Semite, Shego thought, watching the older man carefully in case he decided to do something. She could protect Ron, but she wasn't sure about much beyond that. Blackwolf just kinda stared blankly at Ron, though.
"Kid," Blackwolf said, "you ever thought about why people might not like your people?"
Ron spun around, his blue eyes furious. "Because they're a bunch of racist assholes with nothing but hate in their hearts!" he spat.
Blackwolf sighed, easing his chair back slightly. "Kid," he said, looking at the young man's face, before correcting himself. "Ron, have you ever hated anyone?"
"I hate people like you," Ron spat.
"Why?"
"Because you're evil!" Ron exclaimed, "Because you hate, and that hatred leads to suffering and death! You think you're better than anyone else, and that gives you the right to do whatever you please, no matter who suffers for it!"
"Okay," Blackwolf said evenly. "So you hate people like me because we cause suffering, pain, and death."
"Yes!" Ron growled.
"So you don't hate without reason, you hate for justified reasons."
"Yes!"
"Fair enough," Blackwolf said. "I can respect that. A is A."
"What?" Ron snarled.
"A is A," Blackwolf repeated. "I think it comes from some philosophy called objectivism. Basically, a Thing is a Thing. An apple is an apple. An apple is not a pear."
"Not that philosophy isn't fascinating," Shego interjected sarcastically, "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"If A is A," Blackwolf said evenly, "Then suffering is suffering."
"You're talking non-sense!" Ron spat, turning towards their room, "We're done, Shego come on."
"Is it wrong to shoot a child," Blackwolf asked.
Ron spun around angrily. "If course it is you asshole!" he snarled.
"So, if a Nazi shoots a Jewish child, it's wrong." Blackwolf said. "What about if an IDF soldier shoots a Palestinian child?" Shego, who had moved to Ron's side, felt him stiffen.
"A is A," Blackwolf said. "A Nazi soldier killing a child, and an IDF soldier killing a child, are no different. A solder has killed a child. Both justify it as defending their homeland. A is A."
Ron's gaze was ice as he turned to glare at the older man. "How dare you." He snarled. "There is nothing even close to those situations being similar!"
"No?" Blackwolf said evenly. "You really think so?"
"I know it!" Ron spat.
Blackwolf shrugged. "The Nazis set out to create a safe and secure homeland for the German people. They invaded territories, put the local population under occupation, killed those who resisted. They did so with the fundamental belief that they had a right to that land, because they were the superior Aryan race. Never mind that some of that territory had actually been theirs before the first world war." He said, evenly. "The Israelis set out to create a safe and secure homeland for the Jewish people. On the day they were to be given their state, they invaded territories, put the local population under occupation, and killed those who resisted. They did so with the fundamental belief that they had a right to that land, given to them by God, because they were his chosen people. Something that made them and their claim to the land superior to the other people who had lived there for centuries."
Before Ron could say anything he pressed on. "So, you say anti-Semites are bad because they hate and that hatred leads to things like the Nazis. The Nazis are bad because they did bad things. Or those things are bad because the Nazis did them. Either way, those actions can be used as objective markers for bad and we can judge if people are good or bad by if they do these things." He said. "Now, you are Jewish. You probably think of Israel as good. You think of your people as good. That is fair and natural. But, to be a moral person, one should hold a set of morals as standard. Bad things are bad, good things are good. A bad thing cannot be bad for one person, but good for another, and still be a moral."
Ron was shaking against her, furious. Shego wasn't sure what to say, or do. She didn't exactly agree with Blackwolf, but neither could she deny his logic. "You can't be a killer," she found herself saying, "And then complain when someone tries to kill you."
Blackwolf nodded in approval. "Exactly." he said. "Otherwise you're a hypocrite. You can't complain about how one group of people are a bunch of evil monsters, because they stole from you, imprisoned you, and killed you, and then turn around and steal, imprison, and murder someone else while claiming it's justified and not be a massive fucking hypocrite." He looked Ron dead in the eyes. "That's why I am not a fan of your people," he said, "because, on the whole, most of them do exactly that. Your people's entire homeland is built on doing that, and as for the ones outside your homeland, well, most of them aren't much better. Some of them are worse."
The older man sighed and got up from the table. "No one hates in a vacuum, Ron," He said softly, "Hatred is brought about by suffering, and while you may not believe it, and your teachers may hand wave it away, your people have caused suffering to a lot of others over the ages. Hell, according to the bible, one of the first major acts your ancestors did after escaping Egypt was try to genocide an entire nation, all for the crime of not wanting to surrender their home." He headed towards the other bedroom.
"What?" Shego asked, the question tearing out of her. "That can't be right."
Blackwolf gave her a tired look, resting his hand on the doorjamb and turning back to them. "They even celebrate the completion of it every year during Purim," he said, sounding incredibly sad. "With the death of Haman and his family."
"Haman was trying to kill us!" Ron spat.
"Yes, he was," Blackwolf said, "He was the grandson of the king of the Amalekites, his family was one of the survivors of the genocide, or attempted genocide anyways, and he wanted revenge for his people. But in the end, because a Jewish girl seduced the king and bent him to her will in order to save her people, Haman and his family were slaughtered. And now, every year, Jews around the world celebrate the genocide of an entire people who they murdered, while screaming endlessly about the Nazis who murdered them."
And with that, he went in the room and shut the door.
Astrid came back a few hours later, carrying the first set of bags into the trailer. She took one look around and spat a curse. "What the Hel did he do?" she asked.
Shego looked up from where she had been nuzzling Ron and trying to calm him down. It hadn't been working that well. She thought for a moment, trying to find a way to tell without setting Ron off again. She came up with nothing. "A is A," she said, nuzzling Ron again.
"Gods fucking damn it, Luke!" Astrid yelled at the closed door. A muffled apology sounded from inside and she growled. Turning to Shego she asked, "Which a is a?"
"There's more than one?" Shego asked.
Astrid nodded tiredly. "It's a thing with him, he applies it a lot, generally on subjects that make people angry." She answered.
"Well," Shego said after a moment, "This one had to do with him not being a fan of Jews."
"LUKE!" Astrid roared. "REALLY?"
Blackwolf stuck his head out the door, looking only mostly dead. "The kid asked." he said tiredly. Astrid covered her face with a hand and gave a growl of pure frustration.
"You, groceries, house, now!" Astrid said, pointing outside. Blackwolf sighed, but nodded and dragged himself out to go start unloading the truck. Ron stiffened as the man came out.
"Master, why don't you go lay down?" Shego prompted. When Ron didn't budge she nuzzled and nudged him. "Please? You've been training really hard and I think the extra rest would do you good."
It took some prompting, but Ron was in their room with the door shut before Blackwolf came back in with the first round of bags. Then he turned around and went back out, not saying a word. Astrid collapsed in one of the dining chairs.
"Well," Shego said softly, "I get what you said about him."
"I'm sorry about all this," Astrid said. "He didn't used to be so bad about it. He was never a normal guy and honestly his morals haven't changed, but he's become more...I know autistic is the right word, but I can't think of the right term for it. I think it has to do with the trauma of everything he's seen, done and suffered. Like, after marching sixteen miles through shit, you just don't give a fuck anymore, you know?"
Shego curled up, looking thoughtful. "When you're hanging over an abyss, you latch on tightly to anything that keeps you from falling into it," She said softly.
"I never thought of it that way, but yeah," Astrid said. they paused as Blackwolf dropped off another load and went back out. "He will do anything for his Goddess, go anywhere, suffer everything. I've seen some shit, but I know he's seen worse. And he's been through the shit."
"He mentioned the girl in England," Shego said softly, "The one he killed."
Astrid suddenly looked tired. "He likes to pretty it up," She said softly, "Make it sound all noble. The Goddess's Peace. I think he stole that from Warhammer 40k. But doing that tore him apart inside. His wife, Maggie, told me that for a month after he got back he would be crying in his sleep, saying the girls' name and that it was okay, that she didn't have to hurt anymore. He likes to act like he was some kind of Commissar mercy killing the girl, but I suspect it wasn't anything like that when it happened."
They fell silent as Blackwolf brought in the last of the groceries. Shego noticed the sorrowful look he gave Astrid before going back into the bedroom. The valkyrian woman sighed and looked guilty for a moment. "Losing her hurt him," she said, "And I think he was abused at some point, and he developed this habit of never showing pain or weakness if he could help it."
"They break up?" Shego asked, "Or did she die?"
"Neither," Astrid said, "Worse, in a way. If she dumped him he could have moved on. If she died, well, he's part of Helheim, the realm of the dead. They could still be together after a fashion." The woman's fist clenched. "There's this Mossad agent, Benjamin David. Luke met him on one of the earliest real missions we worked together. Luke half blackmailed him, but also saved the man's wife from dying. As far as David's superiors were concerned though, he'd betrayed them, and he had to pay a heavy price for that betrayal. Ended up costing him his family when his wife discovered what he really did for Mossad, nearly cost him his career and life. He blamed Luke, and decided he wanted revenge. So, a few years after things had gone down, when I'd pretty much forgotten about it and so had Luke, he struck.
"No one is quite sure what he did, but Maggie was attacked, brutally. Then he tortured her for two whole days, filming it. He did some of the worst things you can do to a human being to her, and to a woman. Finally he did something that put her into a coma." Astrid's voice shook with rage. "I managed to see some of the video, but I couldn't make it all the way through. It was horrible, what he put her through. Flaying the skin off her back and chest with a scourge. Raping her. Cleaning her out with bleach. Other...things. He did it for forty-eight straight hours, some how keeping her conscious and alive the whole time. She was a hardened police detective. She'd helped Luke since he started and had seen some pretty messed up stuff both as an officer and his partner. And she screamed in terror and pain until the end."
"My god," Shego said, horrified.
"We all expected Luke to go charging off, but he sat by her side for six months. No one could get him to move, he would barely eat. He prayed and prayed and prayed, he swore and cursed and bargained and did everything he could. Luke couldn't speak Hebrew, so the only way he could try and figure out what was done was to watch the recording over, and over, and over again, trying to catch each little sound, write them down, translate them, study them. He later told me that whatever David had done, whatever black magic he'd used alongside the drugs, had made it so that Maggie would relive every moment of the torture while she was in the coma. Trapped, unable to escape, and he spent those six months breaking her out of it the spell. But he couldn't get her out of the coma."
"Well, you can imagine what he was like after that. The woman he loved, broken, tortured, trapped in a hell between life and death, and it was all his fault, and he'd had to watch it over and over again for months to try and save her." Astrid said her voice cracking. "I mean, it wasn't his fault, but there was no convincing him that. It was the will of fate I found him when I did, ready to work some ritual where he was going to sacrifice himself in an attempt to free her, either by actually dying, or being trapped in an eternal state of dying and forcibly being healed by Hela, I don't think he cared. I managed to stop him, and he broke." she choked and wiped her eyes. "Here was one of the most deranged, dangerous, devoted people I had ever met, and he was bawling in my arms like a child whose entire world had been ripped from him. He begged me to let him die, begged me to let him save her, to pay for what he'd done to her. For there to be some justice for Maggie."
"I think that's why he does some of the crazy stuff, like what he did a few days ago. He wants to die, but his oaths won't let him take his own life, and his faith won't let him falter in his duty."
"What happened to David?" Shego asked, feeling her own heart breaking at the story.
"No one knows," Astrid said, "Or, better yet, no one will speak of it. I know Luke found him. What happened then, well. I don't know what you know of Mossad, but they're not the kind of people who fuck around, and they're not the kind to forgive anything. They'll spend decades hunting people down, they'll use the dirtiest tricks in the book, they have no limits and no mercy. But they have standing orders that if Luke shows up anywhere, their agents to evacuate and never, ever confront him, and anyone close to him is to never be harmed."
Shego tried to think of anything that could possibly make that happened, and drew up a blank. Which, under normal circumstances, would have made her doubt the other woman's story. Yet, something about Astrid told that the woman believed in the absolute truth of her words. There were no lies, no bullshit, it was reality.
"I've never gotten any spirit, God, or devil to tell me what happened," Astrid said softly, "they say that what was done must never be spoken of. Even my patron, Thor, would not tell me. Merely looked sad and said 'he did what he had to, pray you never must do the same.'"
They sat silently for a long time after that.