Chapter 10, Recidivism

The first thing he became aware of was the dull pain. He'd felt it many times in his life, after missions that hadn't gone according to plan and ended in a rough fight. It had been a long time since he last felt it, and in that sense it had a strange sort of pleasant familiarity.

The second thing he noticed was a thick scent of cigarette smoke.

His eyelid felt heavy as lead, but he managed to pry it up. All he saw was a grey blur. A few blinks cleared his vision, and the blur became a ceiling and walls. Cracks crawled along both surfaces and a bundle of old cobwebs hung in the corner high above him.

Sig glanced aside, taking in what little else there was in the dinky room. The only light came from a streetlight outside a dirty window, and the only furniture was the bed Sig laid on, a small table beside it and a simple chair with its back turned towards him.

And on the chair was Razer, resting his arms on top of the rickety backrest, legs spilling out on either side of it as he watched Sig. He'd taken off his red coat, which made him look a lot smaller and a whole lot more down to earth, especially in the sleeveless shirt he wore. With his arms bared, a black flame tattoo which covered most of his lower right arm was revealed. His gloves laid thrown on the small table.

An ash tray was also on the table, cluttered with ash and the butts of several smoked cigarettes.

"Sorry, my big angry friend," Razer said, the side of his lip curling. "You're still alive."

Sig tried to move only to find that his muscles felt sluggish and unresponsive. Whatever drug Razer had hit him with, it was still firmly in his system. A stitch of panic lashed out, but it faded just as quick.

He didn't care.

"I see I failed to amaze," Razer commented with a theatrical roll of his head. "Such a shame, but it happens. And you probably realize that Her Highness would have me flogged if I let you get yourself killed."

He made a twirling motion with one hand, and a small dart appeared between his fingers as by magic. The memory of the raised gun swam in Sig's mind. Connecting the dots, he supposed that Rayn had given Razer that weapon for just such an occasion. Weeks ago, it would have made him furious. Now, it couldn't even break through the numbness. Maybe it was a residue of the drug that made him so lethargic, but he wasn't convinced. He felt as empty as the ruins in the deep desert.

Thinking about that made his mind veer off towards the vast, hot beauty of the Wasteland, but Razer was speaking again. Saving Sig from the torture of that, at least.

"I made a report to her before getting you carted over here," he said. "I will warn you that the lady is displeased."

He dropped the dart on the table and produced a new cigarette and a lighter from a pocket. The small flame flickered in the dim light for a moment, followed by the round, steady glow of the rolled stick.

The red hot little circle seared into Sig's vision as it drifted about in Razer's hand. He still saw it when he blinked, like pale blue flashes on the inside of his eyelid.

Of course Rayn was angry. He hadn't stayed down. Hadn't been obedient. Had forced Razer to use a last resort while the other men watched, if they were still awake at that point. Sig felt fuzzy on that detail.

Though he wasn't sure why he was here, and not getting shouted at by Rayn in her office. Implications bubbled up, threatening his tired peace of mind.

"You knew I'd do that," he grunted, his voice gravely and painful in his throat. Said it to stall, because he didn't know where things were headed, and some survival instincts managed to break through.

"True," Razer said with a nod as he pocketed the lighter and leaned forwards against the backrest. "Personally, I don't get in between when the boys want to play."

He shrugged.

"I wasn't surprised when you did, though. I am more surprised that you didn't snap earlier. Mind you, I had to use all of my charms to keep the boys from slitting your throat while you were down. You made so many people upset today."

Sig stared at the ceiling.

"They used to have a lot of dirty little ideas about how I stayed Mizo's right hand man, too." Razer propped one elbow up, leaning his chin against his fist. With a sardonic little smile, he added, "Of course, in my case at least half of it was true."

No comment.

A muffled whooshing sound and a blast of light through the window announced that a car turned a corner outside. The light painted a wide, sweeping halo on the wall and disappeared just as quickly. Razer stood and took the few steps needed to reach the window, holding his cigarette to the side as he leaned forwards to peer outside. But the car drove off without stopping, just passing by. He still stood there for a moment, as if to make sure nobody had leaped out and approached.

It struck Sig that maybe Rayn didn't know where they were. Not that he knew, either.

Not that he cared. He couldn't move, anyway. But the mist was clearing in his head, enough to begin prodding him with unease about his paralyzed state.

Razer turned away from the window and strode back across the floor. He stopped beside the chair, lowering his eyelids a little as he studied the unmoving Wastelander on the bed. Took a drag and let the smoke stream out of his nose and mouth, grey wisps elegantly drifting through the air until they evaporated and left only the thick, spicy scent behind.

"Rayn told me she'll pick up the pieces when I'm done with you," Razer said.

Sig didn't respond.

"You are quite easy on the eyes, if one likes them tall, dark and bitter." Razer said it with a slanted smirk. Then he scoffed. "But it's not my preference. Also, I think you're way more trouble than you're worth."

A part of Sig, one that he hadn't even wanted to acknowledge, cautiously relaxed.

"Okay." Razer put the cigarette out in the ash tray and turned the chair around, so that he could sit down properly on it. Folding his arms and swinging one leg up over the other, he narrowed his eyes at Sig. "Why are you here?"

Even in his current state, the question made Sig tense up. Or at least twitch, because it was all he could manage right then. But he pressed his lips shut and stared up at the cracked ceiling.

When there was no response, Razer sighed and rolled his eyes.

"If you think that you've played your role well, allow me to correct you," he said. "Every fiber in your being is screaming that you don't want to be here. And you don't fit in the least."

No response. Razer waited for a few seconds, but finally shrugged.

"Alright then, since you're playing hard to get…" he said. "Let's see. I doubt that she's poisoned you, because you wouldn't fall for that again."

Sig didn't bother mentioning that he'd never been poisoned at all. He couldn't help but look back at Razer though, weary dread building in his gut.

"And if she held somebody hostage, you would be more careful than you've been." Razer raised an elegant eyebrow and bent one arm back over the top of the armrest, leaning his weight on it. "So, I must assume that she's blackmailing you."

He had seen it coming, and yet Sig couldn't keep from flinching. It was small, but Razer saw it. The twist of his mouth spoke loud and clear before he voiced it.

"Ah, right to the heart," he commented. "Now then, you must've been a very naughty boy, since you're not calling your friends for help." He tilted his head. "Or is it about them, hmm? Your 'old' friends, as Miss Rayn so succinctly put it?"

"Don't talk about them!" Sig hoarsely snapped.

Razer looked amused.

"Touchy, touchy. Strange thing, mystifying, I must say." He leaned closer. "Now, I cannot claim to know any of them intimately. But I do know that for a sob story, dear Jak would let anybody get away with murder."

Sig's gaze returned to the ceiling, his jaw tightly clenched.

"Is it worth being a slave?" Razer asked in a curious tone.

He had to say it.

He had to say the one word Sig hadn't allowed to even cross his mind.

"Or perhaps you prefer the term 'freedom challenged?'" Razer commented, but Sig heard him as if through water.

All he could do was to close his eye and shake his head. He wanted to claw at his face and roar out the agony twisting in his heart, but the drug kept him chained down. His mind spun, teetering on the edge. Needed to move, to scream, to destroy that accursed idea, the mere —

… The mere truth.

A groan escaped him.

Strangely enough, Razer gave him generous space to digest the sickening word. When Sig finally opened his eye a crack again, Razer was just sitting there waiting, balancing his chin on the back of one hand.

He met Sig's gaze.

"Cough it up, big boy," Razer softly said.

"No." Sig managed to turn his head a little, only to have gravity and the dip of the pillow roll it back. "Non'ya business."

"I don't trust Rayn's blind faith in you," Razer said. "Especially not after what happened back there at dear old Mrs. Chilton's place. I want to know what makes her think she's so certain."

Sig just pressed his lips tightly shut. His whole life had been based on survival, and knowing when to depend on people. There was not a fiber of his being that believed Razer to be a potential ally. It was bad enough that Rayn had the ultimate trump card over him – no way would he hand that over to yet another person who would use it against him at the first opportunity.

"Your life expectancy out here isn't looking good," Razer said, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. "I may be able to help you."

"I'm a Wastelander," Sig dully told the ceiling.

Razer sighed and tipped forward, rubbing his face with his fingertips in small, annoyed circles.

"My friend," Razer said in a low voice. "In case you had somehow not noticed, you can barely move. I advise you to think about that for a moment."

Sig had just waited for that to be brought up again, and his jaw was already firmly clenched.

"I'm a Wastelander," he repeated through his teeth.

Closing his eyes, Razer drew in a deep, sharp breath through his nose and let it out slowly as he straightened up. He raised his hands in a shrug and let out a dry laugh.

"I yield," he said. "I realize that it would take more time and more exquisite tools than I have at hand to make you warm up to me. So…"

He took out a lighter from a pocket and absently turned it between his fingers. Sig was by no means ready to relax, and the sight of the lighter evaporated any thought of that.

"Ah yes. On a wholly different note, Rayn lied about your little girlfriend," Razer said. When Sig gave him a sharp look, he rolled his eyes. "I looked into it. The girl was in tears after visiting you, nothing worse than that. I suppose Rayn didn't care enough to waste a couple of days' business."

"Why tell me?" Sig asked in a guarded tone, uncertain of where this was going.

"It's a risk dear Miss Rayn took for being too cheap to bother actually having the girl slapped around, if she wanted to make an example out of her. Very sloppy." He studied Sig. "Sloppy to play that card so soon, too. But then, she seems to lose all her good sense when it comes to you."

He smirked, though not with amusement.

"The way she handled that makes her seem almost…"

Don't say it Precursors don't say it

"… Jealous."

A disgusted sound left Sig's lips and he pinched his eye shut.

"My, my, my," Razer murmured. "I seem to find all your sensitive spots tonight."

"Why?" Sig's voice came out in an agonized creaking.

"Please have a little trust in me, I am trying to show off that I have a kind side too. Just for you."

Sig glared at him, silent.

"Ah, you doubt me." Razer chuckled and winked, wagging one finger. "A good philosophy, because I do have ulterior motives."

He picked up the half smoked cigarette from the ashtray and lit it again. However, he held it between his thumb and pointing fingertips, making no move to actually start smoking it.

Shit.

Sig only felt numb, coming to a foregone conclusion. Of course he wouldn't get away.

"I know it doesn't quite make it fair, but it makes us a little more even," Razer absently said, studying the slow burning tobacco. Reaching into a pocket, he drew out his butterfly knife and dropped it on the table. For later. "As much as we dislike each other, I prefer giving you some reason to not rip my arms off when nobody's watching."

The red glow flared in the slight breeze as he moved the cigarette towards Sig's throat.

"I'm sure you understand that Her Highness expected me to make this a very unpleasant conversation," Razer said.