[SEQUEL TO GUN FOR HIRE]
Chapter 21: What You Deserve

As Piper slept peacefully, Gat did what he could to treat his own injuries. He soaked a towel in the shower and tossed it in the fridge, the closest thing he could think of for icing his bruises. He checked in the mirror and ensured any skin that had split open under the crack of a baton had not needed anything drastic. The healing process for some of these were quite well on their way, as if he's had days of a head start. The cybernetics must be the reason for healing faster.

"Guess it ain't so bad," Gat murmured to himself, angling his jaw up as he stretched skin from his neck towards the point of his chin, wincing a little as he observed lacerated skin part like leather flaps. It didn't look so deep anymore. Maybe he shouldn't have leaned into the courser's knife - there was no telling what intentions these arseholes had with him or his family anymore.

Freedom after his objective's completed, his ass. They're going to keep them all locked up here, aren't they? It would be too risky to just let them back to the wasteland. He understood, yeah, even if he didn't want to. They were loose ends. They knew too much. He had to figure out a different way to get his family out of here, safe and sound.

Maybe he could re-negotiate a new deal with Adam? He seemed to be allowed to do a lot of things back as Gat's designated handler. It should be easy to work an angle on that guy.

The question now was: how much more of Gat's body was he willing to give up?

Gat checked on the state of the towel in the fridge and pulled it when it was cold enough, heading back to the bed and carefully sitting beside Piper so as not to rouse her from her slumber as he slung the towel over his bruised thighs. He stared at his hands, frowning. He saw what happened to the freak Adam's got tailing him now. Making a deal with the devil could very well mean Gat would lose his hands - or some other part of him that he likely wouldn't get to choose, as soon as he submitted to be knocked out under that arsehole's scalpel. He could be reborn completely as a fuckin' machine. Wouldn't put it past that maniac.

One look at Piper, and Gat's brow furrowed. He knew she knew something, and that she was scared enough of it to hide it instead of blab everything she'd uncovered, if only to start leaving tracks for people to find the truth for themselves if the Institute silences her. Why hadn't they? They returned her here. They'd clearly done something, with her state of arrival, but had she struck a deal with the devil herself?

This was driving him barmy, like her.

Gat sighed. He carefully lifted the blanket and slid his hand along her inner thighs, slipping under her dress until he'd felt a holster, and plucked her notepad out. It was completely drenched, and the soppy pages clung to his thumb, ink smeared. Useless. He tossed it aside on the nightstand and rested his head back against the headboard, watching for signs of life out the corner of his eyes.

Molten frustration bridled in his core. He'd done what he could to keep the fears and stress away, but he could only stall for so long. It dragged his shoulders down, and his eyelids felt heavy, a sting burning behind his eyeballs as he tore his mind apart for ideas on how to keep his family safe. He was waiting for more fucked up news, like that old piece of shite bag taunting him with some more fucked up crap done to Rose, or his sister, now.

This place was driving him barmy, and he was beginning to grow desperate for an end to it.

No, no, he wasn't desperate. He couldn't be. Desperation made people take stupid measures, not desperate ones. He glanced over when the body beside him stirred, but only to turn on her side as she continued to sleep away. Her features were scrunched, tormented by whatever she dreamed, and he idly reached over as he combed her wayward bangs out of her face.

Age was beginning to show its wear and tear as the edge of his thumb nail traced a crease beside her eye. She was already on her way to developing crow's feet, and neither of them were even in their late 30s. He gently massaged her temple in a paltry effort to ease her in her sleep, but it proved fruitless. He sighed and slowly tucked an arm under her shoulders as soon as he'd heard a small whimper, yanking off his towel so that he could pull her head to rest on his lap.

"What're we s'pos'to do, luv?" Gat asked the sleeping woman. "Would it matter, whatever we do? Is it too late for us? Are people like me even allowed to have a happy endin'?"

Silence was his answer, save for soft snores, and still the occasional whimper. He pulled at the blanket so that it piled over her more when she'd shiver every now and then. That frustration rapidly grew with each whimper, his efforts to soothe her a complete waste, like his every breath and action. Despair sank its claws into him.

Despair made people do stupid things too, he couldn't succumb to it. He had to stay sharp.

Fuckin' hell though, but he was tired.

His head thudded noisily as his mind wandered with memories. The Director bringing up one of probably the most pivotal moments was at the forefront of his mind. He couldn't erase the look Piper gave him, back when he killed the kid. It refused to release him. He saw himself in that boy, and he kept telling himself he had to shoot to kill. That kid was gonna make confetti out of Piper's skin.

He remembered the look Piper gave him, when he desperately sought to make a connection with her, to learn more about her, to figure out why a heart was bleedin' for him. The only way he knew then was through physical contact. He wasn't good for nothin' else - but she saw otherwise.

Gat looked down as he gently coaxed his hand through the top of her disheveled hair, easing and teasing knots slowly apart. The corner of his lips crooked in a small, sad smile.

"Y'barmy bird... What did y'ever see in me? Did nothin' but piss ya off, I did; always yappin' 'bout caps, making fun of you all the time. Now we're here, and all I do is give ya an even harder time." His brow furrowed, recruiting his second hand to comb her hair more constantly when he'd noticed that seemed to soothe her in her sleep, her features finally relaxing. "S'my fault yer here. If only I never left, like how y'asked me to promise you - and I did, and I broke it within a damned bloody week..."

A weariness took hold over him. He was fighting a losing battle against himself. Guilt was never anything he really felt before, or rather, never he cared to dwell upon before; now it was weighing more and more heavily on him. Logic tried to battle against it - his family would still have been captured, and the Institute would have used that to force his hand into working with them, regardless if he left Piper's side or not.

But what if? She could've come up with a plan. Maybe the plan she'd had then, pretending to be kidnapped, would've changed all of this shite right now. She wouldn't have had to suffer as much as she did.

"Gat..." Piper hummed quietly, stirring a little more. One of her hands lazily broke through the barrier of the blanket and blindly felt along until it found to tap his.

He smiled a little when it was because he'd stopped scratching her scalp and combing her hair with his fingers, and resumed as he murmured with reverent affection he'd never would've dreamed a man like him would be allowed to have. "G'mornin', angel. Feel better after a wink?"

"Yeah," she wistfully sighed, tucking in higher as she nestled her head to lay on the crook of where his pelvis and leg met.

Dangerous position, that, and he looked up at the ceiling before King Arthur awakened from her proximity. Time and place - and though no place was apparently out of bounds, this was no longer the time anymore. He kept focused on stroking her hair, and something bloomed in his chest when he'd stolen a gander and saw how she looked so peaceful, nuzzling up higher against his lower abdomen.

"Cut that out," Garrett blurted, chuckling when Piper angled her head up to look at him with a brow pinched in confusion. "Yer bein' too damn cute. How d'you wager I'm s'pos'to handle that?"

Cheeks pinched and a swift charming grin erupted to life. It's been a while since he'd seen her eyes dance a little, and it was a blessing he knew would be spurned the moment the weight of realization came back knockin' down the whole damn atmosphere again. He chuckled again when she exaggerated a loud peck on his stomach, slithering up higher so that she kissed every ridge, and the King stirred when she paved a path up to his chest. His eyes fluttered shut and a small groan slipped out when her tongue glided over a nipple, as a small hand wormed into his briefs to free his shaft through the hole.

"Fuck, love... Yer killin' me..."

"You told me to stop being cute," Piper teased huskily. "So I am."

Soft lips worked their way up to his neck, her hand stroking his cock lazily. Teeth scraped over his pulse before one of his hands came up to bury in the back of her hair, pulling to crash his mouth over hers as his pelvis bucked beneath her boldening touch.

Apparently he was alone thinking this wasn't the damn time, and she was being real bloody persuasive.

"Not that I'm complainin', luv, but what th'hell happened to make you turn into Ms. Handy?"

A throaty chuckle buzzed against his lips, and devilish eyes awakened as she opened hers, a mischievous glint dancing in them. She gave a coy shrug and continued her torment.

It took what discipline he could afford to muster as he chanted in his mind that this wasn't the time, that this wasn't like her - and that there was a reason she was. His fingers wormed around her wrist, his restraint and resolve fraying rapidly as pressure began to build and buzz behind his cock. He growled when she tugged at his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled, releasing with a sound pop as he hissed. He tightened his grip on her wrist, then slackened, then tightened, then slackened, and his head whipped back for pain to knock him out his senses as he thudded harshly against the wall.

"Yer gonna have to talk about it sooner or later. Y'can't keep this up forever to distract me."

"Dunno what you're talking about," Piper said quickly - too quickly. It was painfully fucking obvious now. "I think I can keep this up for a good long time."

"Not unless y'wanna whinge 'bout how sore your wrist is," Gat laughed, and he managed restraint for at least a second to pull her hand off of him. His free hand slid under the curve of her jaw and held her at bay before she'd delved to kiss him, to distract him some more, looking at her seriously. "Please, luv... Tell me what you saw. What's got you spooked? Did the Institute threaten you t'stay quiet?"

Piper's gaze dropped, her brow knitting together, her expression contorting as if she was in pain. She shook her head slightly. "They didn't... Or they did, kind of. I think it would be pretty easy for them to make it seem like I'm off my rocker, if I were to try to tell people. I wish I was, with what I saw." A shaky sigh tumbled out of her as her eyes fluttered shut. Her lips opened, then closed, opened, then closed, struggling as syllables choked in and out of life.

"Wouldn't make a lick of difference," Gat whispered, stroking her bangs out of her face as he leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. "Everybody already knows you're a barmy bird."

"Ass," Piper chuckled quietly, hushing back to silence. She sighed as she slumped back down, her arms worming around his hips as she hid her face against the side of his stomach.

Awkward way to have a potentially life-shattering conversation, but he bit his tongue to keep his thoughts to himself as she did what she felt she needed to.

Silence fell between them, and it ached deep in his chest with the way she would suck in harsh breaths sometimes, feeling wet tears as beads sometimes rolled down his skin. He suppressed a sigh and did his best to remain quiet, when he wanted nothing more than for her to be out with it already, to drop the bad news he was always waiting to hear. She'd found out she was a synth after all, hadn't she? That he has been cheating on the real Piper all this time. Maybe that's why this one was so hesitant to break the news, to lose this between them. He couldn't blame her. He'd do the same.

But that's why he was drawn in to the woman who always strived to do the right thing, even if it wasn't the easy thing.

"I don't know how to tell you," Piper mumbled, hugging him so tight that he'd grimaced when pain referred from the bruises on his thighs.

He tenderly slipped his hand over her eyes to soak up her tears. "Want me t'guess instead then, say it out loud? Y'can nod if I'm right or wrong."

Time seemed to freeze with the way she stiffened. It felt like it slowed to a halt when she'd finally nodded.

"You're another synth copied after the real thing," Gat started immediately, sucking in his breath and holding it as he braced himself for the nod.

It wooshed out in disbelief when she shook her head.

"What?" He lifted his hand and looked down at her. He didn't know what he felt about the eyes that stared back at him, blotted with thick unshed tears, the kind of gaze that seemed to scream 'I am so sorry' instead. Apparently this wasn't good news, her being real, and that she felt like what she'd uncovered was something she seemed to think would be considered worse news to him. His thoughts slipped away not long after the realization invited itself inside, a cold numbness sweeping over him, his voice hollow to his own ears as he muttered his next guess.

"I'm another synth copied after the real thing...?"

His heart sank when Piper nodded and all the I am so sorry's shed aloud with tears.

x - x - x

"No way. You are not knockin' me out," Garnet huffed, crossing her arms as she stubbornly dug into her new fox hole. Her temple twitched when Adam had the audacity to groan exasperatedly. "You don't get to react like that! Y'think I'm daft?"

"Yes."

"Oi! I'd be even more daft sayin' oh sure, yeah pass me that mask, I'll knock myself out." Her temple twitched again when Adam grabbed said mask and stretched his arm out in offer to her, and she slapped it away. "And I'm not that daft! I've seen what you've done to the other boy, and I am not turnin' into that. Can't think of a fate worse than you bein' my bloody mouthpiece, taking me voice away. I'd rather be limpin' for the rest of my life."

"I am not going to assimilate any cybernetics," Adam groaned. "3-0 is my test subject. You have my word. You've seen the imaging, yes?" He turned the screen towards her for the umpteenth time, gesturing theatrically with his arms at it. "When you grow older, all this scar tissue is going to become so painful and inhibit movement so much, you may as well amputate your leg! I can save it. But unless you desire to be in excruciating pain, then anesthesia is the most prudent choice. I am the best surgeon you could ever ask for, but I'm not so delusional and audacious to presume that even I can ensure perfect results if I perform surgery with you screaming and moving."

"Can't y'just do, I dunno, some local anesthesia?"

Adam shot her the kind of look that almost made her shrink with embarrassment, as if she'd asked the most dumbest question ever. And her defensiveness broiled hotter.

"May I politely point back to the image?" Adam stuck an obnoxious finger back to the line of X-Rays and MRIs.

"You may not, even if you already are," Garnet seethed through clenched teeth, her jaw rippling with frustration over this waste of time and this stubborn man's insistence. "Do I really need to keep spelling it out for you?"

"You've done plenty enough," Adam huffed, turning his machines off with a brisk and agitated pace. "I am well aware you do not trust me, and will not no matter how many times I give you my word. What would convince you?"

"Nothing. I've heard enough to know you're not an honorable man."

"Right," the scientist bit with a quiet bitter laugh. "I've heard enough to know you're just another brutish barbarian from the wastelands. None of you primitives will ever be able to evolve and think critically."

"Come closer and say that to my face," Garnet growled as she swung her legs off the table, hands itching to wrap around this bloody man's throat. She smirked when he'd rounded around one of his machines for cover instead. "You'll never be able to evolve and grow a set of fuckin' balls, mate, and I sure as hell will blow 'em right back offa ya as soon as I get my hands on a shotty."

"Wonderful, because hearing that helps me trust you so much more as well," Adam sighed, raking a hand through his god-awfully perfect hair - and actually messing it up a touch too. He whipped his lab coat off and tugged at his tie to loosen it, unbuttoning a couple of his shirt's buttons to free it's hold on his neck.

"Makin' room for my hands?" She sneered.

He shot a deadpan look and crossed his arms. His head bobbed as a pointed gesture towards what seemed to be his surgery table, steel so immaculately clean to the point she could see it reflecting things from this distance. She crossed her arms back as she made a pointed gesture back with her head, towards her knee.

"Local anesthesia or nothing at all. Y'wanna play around with my fleshy bits, don't ya?"

For some reason, Adam's face colored and his eyes widened with shock; his movements became jerky, flustered, and he coughed - numerous times - to clear his throat. "I-I would never. Even I possess more tact than that!" His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. "You would compare me to that savage 3-0?"

"What...?"

Suffice to say, Garnet was adequately lost. Her mouth dropped a little, gaping dumbly, as her brain was forcibly coerced into mental olympics.

And then she laughed.

"No, y'daft tit! I didn't mean my lady bits." She grinned crookedly then, a surprising delight captivating her to have finally found what actually unhinges this mad scientist. She opened her legs and settled her hands in between them, resting on the edge of the table as she leaned forward with eagerness. "Didn't think someone like you would ever even be interested in that, much less know 'bout it, with how much y'talk about yourself or science-y shite."

"It is not... Shit," Adam huffed indignantly, the curse word sounding as if it was foreign rolling off his tongue. He settled back into the comfort of his environment as he played with his machines and tools, and something tipped her off that it was just a distraction when he turned on and off the same machine several times. "Science is the only way to advance the evolution of humanity; we can and have achieved feats of god him - or her - self, miracles that only the Institute is capable of; largely thanks due to brilliant inventors such as myself. Where everyone else has succumbed to the pressure of politics and finances delegated to the inferior synth bureau, I have stayed faithful to my vision and work - and it has paid off. The Director himself gave approval. Naturally."

"Naturally," Garnet agreed with a smirk, playing along with his obnoxious typical ego-stroking. "So you've never seen lady bits then, have ya?"

"I...!" Adam's hands froze, before revived to life as he shut off a machine with a touch bit more force than necessary, even making it shake and him panic as he held onto it to stabilize it. He whirled around and turned to her with crimson face set in an irate snarl. "Are all you Butlers so vulgar?! Do you bear no thought of raising your daughter in such a crude environment, surrounded by disrespectful language?"

"I'm teachin' her it's safe to express herself, and how to take care of herself around shady bastards like you. Learning how to survive in a lawless land is more important than be a fancy lady, 'cause a fancy lady will get y'all kinds of fucked up once a raider gang rolls through town. Reckon you wouldn't understand, gettin' to be all prim and proper and pristine down here. All you pricks gotta worry about down here is if somebody fuckin' coughs, and then everyone's makin' a mad dash for them masks and sanitizers. Bloody bollocks, you're all barmy, you are."

With a sense of finality that they weren't going to get anywhere, Garnet hopped off the table and braced herself for the incoming pain, shooting up her knee to what felt like it'd even electrocuted her goddamn spine. She tried to suppress her grimace, scowling when Adam strode with hands out for her. She held onto the table behind her until she got her bearings instead, snarling in his face when she came to.

"Local anesthesia," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Or nothing at all."

"You'll still be in severe pain," Adam argued. "It will only numb it superficially."

"But you would do it?"

"Absolutely not, unless I strap you down so you won't move. I meant it before; it would only prove to be more harmful if I cut and stitch you while you are thrashing about."

Garnet glanced over his shoulder at the surgery table. Her eyes narrowed on him. "Then strap me down."

Somehow, and she swore to herself she must have been hallucinating, Adam's eyes softened. He backed away, a contemplative look crossing his face. "You are safe here, Ms. Butler. I would never touch you the way your father had."

One simple sentence, and her chest felt like it was going to cave in. She recoiled viciously as one of her hands came up to slap him, stopping herself only when the coursers on guard in the medical room came and aimed their weapons at her. Adam held his arm out to his side, his gaze never leaving hers as he seemed to steel himself.

Words quivered, hissing through pursed lips, a cracking foundation in her soul. "How...?"

"I will let you in on a little secret, if only because I disdain the synth bureau - so suffer no delusion that we trust each other otherwise. We are able to yield information from the people we copy, because we have access to all their memories in order to imprint them onto the synths we manufacture."

Garnet's brow furrowed. "What... The fuck..."

"Indeed. Distasteful, and even I can recognize a clear violation of ethics."

"Violation of ethics? Violation of people! Try that, god damn..."

"Ah, yes, there is that as well, I suppose."

"Suppose, yeah," Garnet huffed, quieting as her gaze fell to the ground, disturbed.

There was a question on the tip of her tongue, one that was locked away in her throat as fear threw away the key. Her body suddenly grew heavy and weary as her mind did it's due diligence to process all these turns of events. Bravado was pushed away as that old fear arose in her, and she hugged herself in self-defense as she squeezed her eyes shut. She could still smell the stink of his breath, feel the burns of cigarette butts twisting into her flesh, the stabbing inside of her even with a belly swollen, the chains chafing her ankles and locking her up in a shed like a mangy mutt. A whimper was drawn from her and she withdrew jerkily, her eyes snapping open as she stared accusingly at the man who dared touch her.

"Ms. Butler..." Adam whispered, his features contorting as if he's lost and frustrated - he has no right to be frustrated.

"Distasteful and a violation of ethics, huh?" Garnet muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're one to talk, after what you did to the poor boy."

"Poor boy? You sympathize with him, yet you know not of his crime that's deemed his punishment. Allow me to show you how I would acquire information, a fail-proof method that has served the Institute for years."

He strode over to his terminal after issuing an order for the coursers to be at ease and return to their posts. He motioned with his hand for Garnet to come, green letters racing by on the terminal as he navigated much of it before commands even finished loading. A long list of numbers exploded on the screen, making her nearly go cross-eyed from it, casting a nervous glance to her side as she studied Adam's face. He had a determined look, and it was made clear that whatever he was about to show her, was memorized as he'd scrolled right down to a specific set of numbers. He accessed it, and the screen changed into recorded footage. Her eyes widened at the clarity, leaning forward with curiosity as she observed denizens in an alleyway.

"Where is this?" Garnet asked, a blind excitement taking hold of her. "This quality... It's even better than pre-war photographs and recordings on holotapes. How did you do this?"

"This location in particular is in Goodneighbor. One of the only other projects of the cybernetics division's best achievements, tailored by yours truly. Naturally."

"Piss off with the ego, mate," Garnet chuckled as she looked over, rolling her eyes with how haughty Adam appeared now. Like the flick of a switch. "How?"

"Cameras that are disguised and structured to take on the form of the bird of the genus Corvus." He glanced at her, deciphering her puzzled look instantly. "Oh! Apologies, madam. That is 'crow' in your barbarian tongue."

"Oi."

"We've mass deployed these all over the Commonwealth so that we can observe and surveil the population - mostly these are in cities or places of tactical value, or deemed as such wherever the Gunners are. Nothing but dusty troves of useless and old information. This is the future... But I digress." Adam sped the recording up, then stopped. He glanced over at Garnet. "I warn you, Ms. Butler, this may trigger you. You will not like what you see."

"Sounds like I need to see it, then," Garnet hushed, her gaze gluing back to this screen. "Must mean somethin' if even you seem disturbed by it."

A small suck of breath, and a defeated exhale. "Indeed."

The recording resumed. Her curiosities raced out of control as she observed what city life is like. She's heard many stories about Goodneighbor, had always wanted to experience it - but she'd heard enough that it was a bad place to take and raise a child in. Nor did they have the means to sustain themselves in a city, when farming was the only way she could put food on her daughter's table, as all caps had to go to pay off their father's debt.

Soon, the alleyway revved with life and action. She watched as a woman sprinted down it, a fearful look on her face - and recognized that face. That was... That was her brother's sweetheart, wasn't it?

Another man chased after her. The footage moved and she'd gotten a little dizzy, as the crow seemed to fly after the two to catch what was happening. Her stomach plummeted when she'd recognized that man, too, or rather what was left of him. 3-0, Leo. He'd gotten ahold of the woman and they fought on the ground. Her heart twisted with dread as she anticipated what was going to happen, as she watched his hand disappear in between their bodies, before reaching behind to tug the lip of his pants down.

"I've seen enough," Garnet muttered, casting her gaze downwards. Her blood boiled. The footage was silent, thankfully, but she could imagine what was said.

"Wait. There's a good ending," Adam said, a bloodlust gravelly tone entrenched in his words.

She looked up in time to see Leo's body slumping on the woman, blood gushing and pooling from his head. Adam stopped the feed then.

"I cut the tongues out of primitive savages," he growled, looking over at Garnet. "Now you see? Do you still feel so sorry for him? I have gone out of my way and spent days in surgery, never taking a break, never eating - all so that I could revive him and construct the fate he deserves; and I have permissions to do whatever I want, so I can experiment to my heart's content to yield results for my research that the Director never allowed me to do before. 3-0 gets to suffer and be dehumanized the way he was going to do to Ms. Wright. Everybody wins."

Garnet meandered back, stumbling a little. Her hand snapped up to Adam's shoulder for support. A dizziness swum over her, and she shook her head when he opened his mouth. "I heard enough, Adam. I don't give a bloody shite 'bout my knee right now, either. We're going back to get Rose."

"But-"

"You knew all of this, yet you decided it was a grand idea to leave that kind of bloke with my daughter? And fill her head with the stupid idea that he's an uncle? Accuse me what kinda environment I'm raisin' my daughter in, when you're content to leave her in the company of a fuckin' goddamn rapist?" Anger quickly collected as the weight of realization was sinking in, and she glowered at him. "You called me daft?"

"He will not do anything to harm her - he cannot. I have programs in place. Enough free will to think and realize, but none to exercise it."

"I don't give a fuck!" Garnet tugged insistently on his shoulder. "I'm gettin' my daughter whether you come with me or not." Another tug. "But it'll go faster if you take me there 'cause I'm just gonna get fuckin' lost in this stupid place. And then we will have words about this later, y'hear me? Y'can fix up my knee with my daughter here."

"But-"

"You fucking owe me."

What he owed her for, hell if she knew, but that was what she was gonna go with so that she'd make this arsehole cave to help a little faster. She turned around and stormed off, not hiding her limp.

She smiled victoriously when the scientist picked up the pace to pass her and took the lead, fixing up his tie and lab coat along the way.