Violence.
It settled over Harry's shoulders like a warm blanket. Worn. Comforting. Familiar. He let himself smile, allowed his eyes to close for a moment as he savored it. Violence lived in this place where Tom waited, chained in the cold basement of the brownstone Harry had procured just for this.
"Sir."
Ollie stood next to him, medical supplies in hand as he awaited Harry's instructions. Despite the lab coat turned from white to a light brown with dirt, and the stethoscope hanging around his neck, Ollie wasn't an MD. Just a man who'd taught himself some things. He was also a man who owed Harry a favor or three.
He'd called in all his markers for this.
Eyes closed, face calm and arrogant, his prisoner shifted on the slab of cold metal meant to be a floor.
"Back so soon?"
Head lifting as he peered through the bars that caged him, Tom sat up slowly. In deference, maybe, to the beating he'd received the day before.
Conner wore his anger as a talisman around his neck, exposed for Tom to take note and use against him. Of course, Tom's nonchalant attitude only served to egg Conner on. If the guard had his way, he'd put a bullet through Tom' skull in a second.
But of course, he wasn't going to allow his prisoner to die any time soon.
This was Harry's world. Tom's too. They were so alike, it was almost comforting. Harry would kill him. Or perhaps Tom would take his life…
"You missed me, didn't you?"
Tom smiled. He looked…unconcerned,
"It's okay to admit it. I generally tend to have that effect on people."
The wink was almost jovial.
In the aftermath of Fenrir's death, Harry had thought that Tom had been insane to bring his ire down on him. He'd been right. But losing Fenrir had sent him there, to insanity, so now they all played on an even field.
"Sir.`"
Ollie broke Harry's close, narrow-eyed study of Tom.
"He has been fed?"
Ollie nodded,
"To your specifications."
Bread, water and a small test tube of blood once a day.
"Come then."
Harry walked to the cage, opened it with the key. The cage door swung open with a loud, grating sound and Tom threw his head back and laughed.
"Come inside…"
He murmured, staring at Harry from under dark long lashes, tugging on the chains around his wrists.
Three strides brought Harry to Tom' side, and he knelt, gripping his captive's chin.
Tom watched him with his patented sneer, daring Harry. He was a reckless man, courting death with the company he kept. Harry had watched him long enough to know just how to jolt his prisoner.
He kept his gaze on Harry, watching, waiting.
He might have an idea of what was next, but Harry had never been the predictable sort. The reason he remained alive and breathing today. Harry shifted away from Tom, dropping his hold on the man's chin.
Deliberately bringing his gaze to the door of the cage, he nodded to Conner and the room was drowned instantly in darkness. It took a second for Harry's eyes to adjust but they did and then he spoke in the British accent he'd abandoned when he'd moved to New York with Fenrir… The accent that he'd used to converse with Tom when he'd been comatose in that crypt…
"I hope you missed me, Princess…"
He watched the way Tom stiffened and froze. In the dark, Harry watched Tom take him in with eyes that got wider when he bent down and straddled him.
"You… James…"
The name was a shaky breath of sound as Tom tried to touch him, except the chains wouldn't let him.
Harry wouldn't let him.
He was just an inch away, close enough to hear the breath rattle in Tom' chest, Harry simply stayed and observed before he circled Tom' neck, both hands gentle at first. Like a lover's touch.
Ollie stepped into the cage for the first time
His grip got heavier, more insistent around Tom's neck. Except Tom didn't take heed. Too busy taking in this new turn of events.
He tightened his hold and squeezed. When Tom finally figured out what was happening, he tried to fight but Harry made sure his grip didn't falter. He didn't take his gaze away, watching as he took the breaths from Tom… as he stole his life from him…
When the body stopped moving, Harry finally lifted both hands. A kind of surrender. He flexed his fingers, closed his hands into fists then opened them before turning to Ollie,
"Ollie."
Harry waved the man over as he got off Tom's body…
Ollie was hard at work and he watched dispassionately as he performed CPR, working to bring Tom back to life.
He wasn't allowed to stay dead. Not yet. Harry kept his face impassive, fingers laced, both indexes touching his lips as Ollie chanted, counting under his breath, sweating. Because he knew, if Tom didn't wake up, Ollie would die with him.
Tom's body arched off the floor.
His lashes fluttered, lifting as he coughed and groaned. His skin was pale, eyes bloodshot and unfocused. Ollie straightened from his kneeling position and stepped back, heaving a loud sigh. Tom's head turned, clouded eyes zeroing in on Harry as his throat worked.
Harry couldn't help but smile wickedly,
"Welcome back… The fun starts now."