Blackouts
Chest heaving as if he'd just run a marathon, Charles stood over the rapidly cooling corpse of a man he barely recognized as Andrew Polk—one of the men from his list, the same man he'd suggested to Ares that they kill while staying in the hotel for Ares' sister's wedding. Blood oozed, thick and slow, from deep wounds carved over every bit of visible skin, and there was a lot of visible skin. Dazed and confused, he wasn't entirely sure what happened or how he got there. But he didn't doubt the dead man in front of him was his own handiwork. Flashes of digging his blade into Andrew's flesh flashed on the backs of his eyelids every time he blinked, and the sounds of the rapist's screams rattled around inside his skull.
The beast stretched and yawned, licking blood off its chops before curling up again in the back of Charles' mind.
Rock hard, his cock pressed painfully against the seam of his pants. When he looked down at himself, he found he was drenched in blood—he didn't even have on any of the protective gear he was supposed to wear when he made his kills. How the fuck was he supposed to make it back home with blood all over him? He didn't even know where the hell he was. He blinked again, panic shooting icy tendrils down his spine, making his heart race and his slippery grip tighten around his razor.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Not again. Please, not this again.
Looking up, he glanced around, pleading with his brain to focus and take in his surroundings. Dimly lit, sounds of machinery ticking and whirring through the air, wherever he was seemed closed off from the rest of the Citadel. Even though he thought the fact might mean no one saw him commit murder, it actually brought him very little relief. Feet scraping over metal grating when he shifted his weight, the whole place seemed unpolished, like it wasn't meant to be seen by the public eye. He stood on some sort of catwalk or maybe a platform, railing just beyond his reach, a dark abyss spanning out beyond. Some sort of maintenance area?
It didn't really matter if he had no clue where the maintenance area was or how to get out without being seen.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." Letting out a little whimper, he reached up, raking his bloody fingers through his soggy hair.
What do I do? What do I do?
Ares' growl tore through Charles' mind, followed by an exasperated huff. "Check your coordinates on your tool, figure out where the fuck you are, dump the body, clean yourself up, and get your ass home. Idiot."
Trembling, he raked his hand through his hair again before rubbing the back of his neck. Shit. If there wasn't already blood on his neck, there would be after he touched himself. Inching his way past the dead body, each step making his pants rub uncomfortably against his cock, he stared down over the railing. Sucking in a shaky breath, he squinted to get a better look.
Giant vats of murky, viscous liquid churned away down below, the smell wafting up, acrid and repulsive, burned his nostrils. It only took him a second or two to realize what he saw—the protein vats of the keepers. In fact, a few of them moved around in the low light, doing whatever the hell keepers actually did. A slow smile started over his face, knowing the vats meant he had one less problem to worry about.
Turning back to the dead man, Charles sucked in a slow, deep breath, working to steady his heart and clear his mind. He'd have to reach out to the contact Ares gave him in case he needed anything … because if ever he needed something, it was just then. It was doable, though. He could handle it. He'd freak out later, once he was home.
He sat back against the railing, flipping his razor opened and closed as he waited. With everything done, the adrenaline abandoned him, and he had nothing to keep him distracted from the thick coating of syrupy dread slowly dripping its way down his spine. It'd been so long since he'd blacked out like that, he thought it was something he'd never have to deal with again. Some odd anomaly of his abuse-filled childhood, something in the distant past, barely worth thinking about let alone ever mentioning to anyone.
What would Ares think? If shit like that kept happening, he'd definitely never take Charles out with him. Hell, he might not even want to have Charles in his life at all, think he was too much of a risk. The thought twisted in his stomach like shards of broken glass. It'd kill him. Fucking destroy Charles if Ares abandoned him after everything. He fucking loved Ares.
He'd have to tell Ares, though. He promised he wouldn't try to keep Ares out, and it was too big of a thing to let slide. Especially if it ever meant there was any chance at all of him causing something bad to happen to Ares because he had a blackout.
It'd only taken maybe ten or fifteen minutes for Ares to message him with the directions his contact passed on to him to give to Charles. Someone would bring a bag carrying a clean set of clothes, trash bags, and cleaning supplies for both himself and what he could manage with the metal grating. No way could he get down to the ground floor to clean up the puddles of blood below, but he'd glanced down there a few times and noticed the keepers were already taking care of it for him.
Whoever he'd messaged … they wouldn't bring the stuff directly to him, but because he was sort of trapped, they'd be dropping it off right next to the nearest entrance to the keeper tunnels. He'd included his coordinates and a description of his location after surveying the map he pulled up on his omni-tool. He wasn't supposed to move from his location until an hour passed since Ares' message. He guessed it was to make sure he didn't see whoever was making the drop, and it gave them time to put distance between his mess and themselves before there was any chance of him being seen.
He'd tried really, really hard while he worked and waited to remember what the hell happened … how he got there, but beyond a handful of flashes of killing Andrew, his memory was just blank. He remembered waking up at home, beast roaring in his head, but that was it. And, according to his omni-tool, that was over fifteen hours ago.
It scared him. No, 'scared' was an understatement. It terrified him. Freaked him the fuck out, but it didn't really shock him. He should've known the blackouts would eventually come back.
I'm such a fucking idiot. A worthless piece of shit.
"I told you that your whole life," his father's voice, something he didn't hear very often anymore, piped up, making him cringe and want to cry. Before a single tear could work it's way to his eyes, Ares growled inside his head, and his father shut up.
His omni-tool chimed, and he glanced down, turning off the alert before pushing himself to his feet and slipping his razor back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and started making his way towards the door, praying to … hell, he didn't know who he prayed to, he just prayed no one would see him when he opened that door. Maybe someone like him had no right to pray to any god anyway, considering he just tortured and killed yet another man.
He'd made a trip to the incinerators before heading home. By the time he got back to his apartment, not only was he utterly exhausted, but he felt like he hadn't eaten in a week. Although he'd done a fairly decent job of cleaning himself up with the supplies Ares' contact dropped off, he knew he needed a really thorough shower, too.
Unsurprisingly, when he opened the door, he found Eezo pissed and shit all over the place, not to mention torn up a pair of his shoes. He couldn't really blame her though, he'd stayed gone for who knew how long, and he didn't even know if he'd fed her before he left. He highly doubted he'd taken her for a walk. She whined and whimpered, wagging her tail so fiercely her entire back end danced all over the place as she rushed to meet him in the entryway.
Hearing the sounds she made and seeing the distraught look in her ice-blue eyes broke something inside of him. He sunk to his knees, pulling her in against his chest and started to cry. She squirmed, twisting and turning to lick him everywhere she could possibly reach, and he buried his face in her fur. He felt like an utter and complete shit person for leaving Eezo alone for so long, maybe even starving her.
Pulling himself together, he let her go again and made his way to the kitchen to fill up her bowls. Torn between scarfing down her food and watching him, as if she expected he might leave her again, Eezo somehow managed both. He stayed in the kitchen with her while she ate, despite the reek of dog shit and piss, only leaving to clean up the mess once she finished. Still, she followed him around as he moved from pile to puddle to pile to puddle. He didn't even give enough of a shit just then to worry about picking up the scraps of shoes strewn throughout the apartment.
He left the bathroom door opened for her while he showered, doing his best to make sure he got every speck of blood off of him while trying to hurry at the same time. Once he was finally dressed again, he grabbed her leash, despite wanting nothing more than to stuff his face and collapse into bed. Maybe he'd get something somewhere while he took her for a walk. "Come on, girl. Let's go."
He'd find a way to keep his shit together for Ares and Eezo.
Charles grumbled, rolling over and rubbing his eyes to clear his vision as his omni-tool chimed again. "Fuck." He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at the unfamiliar number flashing across his screen before accepting the call.
"Mr. Fairclough?" The salarian on his screen asked, blinking.
"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Fairclough. I'm the Employee Resources Manager of Citadel Souvenirs. My name is Kelto Pravin, and I'm contacting you on the recommendation of two of your coworkers. Irene Waters has been terminated from her position of Shift Manager, and it is my job to find a suitable replacement. I have reviewed your records and seen the reports of how you took charge during the C-Sec investigation. Your peers speak highly of you. If you are interested in the Shift Manager position, I would like for you to come to my office this afternoon to have a formal interview."
Seriously? Fuck. Hell, even if I don't get the job, Irene being gone … damn.
"Absolutely." Charles gave him a decisive nod. "What time should I be there?"
"At thirteen. Galactic Standard, that is. I'm told Irene mostly used human time measurements. I don't know what your personal preference is, but Citadel Souvenirs prefers all employees to adhere to Galactic Standard Time while working." Kelto blinked again and studied Charles for a moment before asking, "Will that be a problem?"
"Not at all." Charles knew GST well enough, he just got used to thinking in terms of Earth-based military time thanks to Irene. It shouldn't be too difficult to make the mental shift. "Where is your office located?"
Kelto smiled and nodded. "I'll send you the address as well as some paperwork for you to complete before you arrive. Have a good day, Mr. Fairclough."
"Thank you, Mr. Pravin." Charles grinned as soon as the call disconnected.
He collapsed on the couch, letting out a giddy chuckle on the ass end of a heavy exhale. He'd gotten the position. It might've meant something entirely different to him a year ago, but now, it mostly just gave him satisfaction to replace Irene. Okay, and the pay raise would be nice, too. Not to mention he felt a little bit less like a loser.
Marginally.
Omni-tool chirping with an incoming call, Charles answered, face lighting up when he recognized Ares' number. He opened the call, smile widening when he saw the scarred face of the man he loved. "Hey," he said, letting the warmth sweep over him and soften the harder edges a little. "You still in one piece?"
"No, I called because I wanted to warn you I'll be missing a few pieces when I get back," Ares said, voice dry and expression practically screaming 'what a stupid question, idiot'.
Charles huffed. "Well, you would." Leaning back against the couch cushions, he decided to change the subject instead of letting himself feel defensive. "So, I got promoted to Shift Manager. Irene's gone for good."
"Is that why you're dressed in that shit?" Ares flicked a mandible.
Huffing again, Charles quirked an eyebrow, thinking Ares seemed to be in a bit of a sour mood. "Hey, you're the one who bought it." Resigned to the flow of the conversation, he nodded and added, "Yeah, I had to go to a formal interview. I just got back."
Flaring his mandibles and affecting a tone of boredom, Ares asked, "Anything actually interesting happen?"
Deflated and disappointed, Charles blinked. He'd hoped Ares might be at least a little happy for him, but apparently not. Every time he thought the two of them were making progress, Ares threw him through a loop. He knew Ares probably expected him to say something about his need to call in for help the other night, but he just couldn't bring himself to dive back down that rabbit hole just yet. So, instead, he said, "Jasmine sent me throwing knives for my birthday."
"Have you been practicing to actually use them?" Ares flared his mandibles a little, raising a brow plate.
"Not yet." Charles fought the urge to scoff and tell Ares to lay off and be nice. "Plan to today, though. Any idea when you'll be home?"
Ares hummed and shrugged. "No."
Letting one side of his mouth shift into a frown, Charles nodded. He'd expected as much, but he still wasn't happy about it. He sighed, a soft sound he wasn't sure carried over the call. "I miss you already." Then, because he felt his good mood evaporating way too fast, he added, "I got you some things."
"Food?" Ares asked.
Charles laughed, the response a bit surprising despite being so completely Ares. "Among other things, yeah."
"Then I just might be interested." Ares rumbled, the sound amused.
It helped put Charles back at ease, and he grinned, lighting a cigarillo. "One can hope, but it's probably not as interesting as you're thinking. Yet. I'm looking into some other things, too."
"Just how many credits are you wasting?" Ares asked, lifting a brow plate. At least there wasn't a lot of censure in his subvocals.
"It's not a waste if it makes me happy to do." Charles took a deep drag, letting it out slowly. "The bed, by far, was the most expensive thing I've already gotten." Humming, he took an even deeper drag, filling his lungs completely. "I'm … making this place a home."
Ares hummed, flicking his mandibles a few times. "Good."
Eyebrows twitching, Charles just watched Ares for a moment. It wasn't exactly the response he'd expected, but it definitely left him pleasantly surprised. He smiled and pet Eezo when she jumped up there next to him. "Thanks for your help with my thing …." He didn't really want to talk about it over a vid call, but he didn't want Ares to think he was trying to put up another wall between the two of them, either. He never wanted there to be walls between them; he needed them both to be open with each other, be able to trust and rely on each other.
Turning to grab a cigarette, Ares grunted. "Don't mention it," he said around the cigarette before lighting it.
That was good enough for Charles. "So," he said, stretching out and throwing his feet up on the table, "miss me?" He figured Ares wouldn't just come out and say it, and he'd just give Charles a smartass answer, so he prepared himself for the inevitable.
"Get your feet off the table." Ares flicked his mandibles, taking a drag. "I eat there."
Charles snorted but dropped his feet, flashing Ares a grin. "Yes, sir."
"And I don't know why humans ask that." Ares chuffed, shaking his head. "'Did you miss me' is a stupid question when you know I'll be back."
Charles sighed and rolled his eyes. "You can miss people you know you'll see again. At least we can. And someone missing us means we're wanted and cared about." He smirked and took a drag, letting the smoke seep out as he said, "Affirm me, damn it."
Only after the words left his mouth did he realize, in a way, Ares already had. The simple statement of 'you know I'll be back' actually sounded pretty damn affirming coming from the emotionally-stunted turian. He thought about pointing it out, but didn't get the chance.
Ares grumbled and took a long drag before finally saying, "Yes, I miss you."
Genuinely surprised, Charles blinked a few times, eyebrows creeping up aways. His heart melted inside his chest, leaving him feeling like a puddle of lovesick goo. Smirk shifting into something softer, something he saved just for Ares, he scraped his teeth over his lip and took a drag. "Thank you."
Ares just hummed around his cigarette, taking a drag.
Not wanting to make him too uncomfortable with the emotional stuff, Charles changed the subject again. "Is there something you want for the apartment?"
"Not really." Ares flicked a mandible. "Food."
Charles chuckled. "I can do that, any specific requests?" As an afterthought, he asked, "Have you eaten today?"
Rumbling and shrugging, Ares said, "Not really."
Charles knew him well enough to know take it as an answer to both of his questions. "I'll make sure you're stocked up on good stuff when you come home. I'll have Cammus help me pick some shit out or something."
Ares rumbled again and nodded. "Get lots of it."
"As much as the place can hold and keep fresh," Charles said, a broad smile sweeping across his face. Fuck, he wanted to nuzzle his face against Ares' neck and breathe in his scent. Their last night together had been a really big deal for Charles, and even though Ares took good care of him after, he still felt a little … raw and exposed.
"None of that healthy shit, either" Ares said with a soft, grumbling growl. "If I'm off the job, I want only meats and lots of it."
Charles laughed but nodded. "I'll be sure to let Cammus know. Oh, I saw him and Acevia on my birthday, too. They showed up to surprise me, took me out for dinner and drinks. It was pretty cool. I haven't done shit for my birthday in … I don't even know how long." He didn't bother to mention Mahlia and Lindsey, knowing Ares didn't think very highly of either of them. Grinning, he added, "Then I ended up in bed with the two of them."
Ares hummed around his cigarette. "Was it good?"
"Yeah. I had fun," Charles said, a slight purse to his lips as he nodded. And it was. He'd thoroughly enjoyed himself before waking up in the night so fucking full of bloodlust he couldn't see straight.
Exhaling smoke, Ares sighed. "I need a good fuck."
Rumbling a little himself, Charles wished he was there to give Ares what they both needed. "No one around?"
Ares took a long drag and shook his head. "No one available anyways."
"That sucks." Charles let the statement linger for half a second before he said, "Doesn't help with anything now, but I'll be ready and waiting when you get home." Shit, if he knew exactly when Ares would be home, he'd be ass naked on the bed, cock hard and legs spread.
Ares growled, the sound laced with arousal, making Charles' heart speed up and his cock twitch. "Good," Ares said, subvocals low.
Scraping his teeth over his lip, Charles took in a deep breath. "Wish you were here, now. Guess I'll just have to take care of myself while thinking about the feel of your cock in my ass, teeth in my skin." Shit, even thinking about it that much was making him horny as fuck.
Ares sighed and stamped out his cigarette. "Fuck, this job isn't nearly violent enough, yet."
"Think it's going to get any better?" Charles asked, raising an eyebrow.
"So she says," Ares said with a huff.
"She?" Charles cocked his head a little. "Jasmine?" Having to be kept at arms distance when it came to Ares' professional life still drove Charles nuts. Probably always would. He wanted to know everything about Ares' job, and not just because he got off on killing, but because he wanted to be a part of Ares' life, completely.
"Yes." Ares rumbled and pulled out another cigarette. "I don't have any reason not to believe her, but the waiting is fucking tiresome. And the food sucks."
Charles didn't realize when Ares left, he was taking off with Jasmine. He guessed he shouldn't be too terribly surprised; they'd worked together in the past. Surprisingly, he was okay with it. "Ah. Tell her hello. How long is the wait? If you can tell me, anyway."
"I can't because I don't have a damn clue." Sounding agitated, Ares shrugged. "Hopefully, soon."
Charles frowned, the innate desire to keep Ares happy itching at his mind, annoying him when there was nothing he could do about any of it with the turian so far away. "Well, hopefully, it'll be gory when the fighting starts."
"With me around?" Ares chuffed and flicked his mandible in a smirk. "You can be fucking guaranteed."
Charles gave him a wide grin. "One of the many reasons I love you." He snorted. "And envy you."
"And why's that?" Ares lifted a brow plate while taking a drag and blowing it out slowly. "Not enjoying your own kills?"
And there it was. Smile faltering, Charles sucked in a deep breath. "This last one …." He remembered what Jasmine said about an assassin's relationships being built on a foundation of fear. He didn't want Ares afraid for his sake. He didn't want to give Ares any reason to doubt their relationship, and he certainly didn't want Ares preoccupied while being shot at.
"I don't want you worrying about me while you're on a job." He would tell Ares what happened, no doubt about it, but he wanted to do it when the turian was there, in his arms. At least that way, he had a chance of hanging on, getting Ares to hear him out, convince the turian to stay. "We can talk about it when you're home."
Ares sighed. "Take a cool down if it's getting too hot."
Clearing his throat, Charle said, "I was trying … didn't go as planned. I was thinking about taking a trip somewhere, getting away from the Citadel for a bit, but with this promotion, I'll be busy. Maybe being busy will help." He took a drag and added, "The guy's in the protein vats, though, so at least maybe they won't connect it to the others."
"Sounds good." Ares hummed. "Don't get too comfortable. Comfortable makes people fucking stupid."
"Yeah." Charles sighed and lit another cigarillo off the dying embers of the first before putting the butt out. "I think I need to find a good alternative outlet. Help keep things in check when I need to lay low."
"Fucking's good." Ares shrugged. "Learn to do whatever it is humans do instead of sparring."
Feeling suddenly morose, Charles scoffed and said, "Get drunk and beat their wife and kids." He shook his head, pushing the thought away. "I don't know. Drugs. Sex. Fighting. Bury ourselves in work. I'll figure something out, though, I promise."
I promise.
"Whatever works." Ares hummed and stuck his cigarette in his mouth, typing something into his omni-tool. "It's getting late, and I'm starving. I think I'm going to go find something to eat."
Charles nodded. He didn't have anything left to really talk about, anyway. "Have a good night."
"Yep," Ares said, then the call went black.
Okal's sour look when told Charles was the new Shift Manager just might've been the icing on Charles' promotion-slash-Irene-was-fired-and-apparently-going-to-prison cake. And oh, it tasted so good.
He and the other shift managers called an employee meeting to help refocus and reorganize things after the whole smuggling fiasco. Admittedly, he felt a little inditimaded, especially considering he'd never even met one of the other shift managers—didn't even know he was a guy or a turian—or half the employees present. Kelto joined them to smooth the transition for Charles as well as to discuss replacing Werin's and Charles' old positions. Apparently, the way-higher-ups also wanted to add on a few employees, making sure there were at least two people working the back room on all shifts. Pravin said it was to increase efficiency, but Charles suspected it had more to do with making sure Citadel Souvenirs never got wrapped up in another smuggling scandal.
The best part about the job? He didn't have to wear a stupid uniform anymore. Oh, and, he pretty much got to set his own hours as to when he was actually at the store.
Cammus caught his eye and fluttered his mandibles, mouth plates quirking just barely into a knowing smirk, and Charles winked at him. He and Mahlia both seemed tickled pink for Charles to be made Shift Manager, and it warmed him … reminding him he actually had friends. People who legitimately cared about him and wanted to see him succeed. Wanted to see him happy.
How the fuck did that happen?
"How will this affect our hours and pay?" Safela, an asari who worked the first shift, asked.
"It won't," Kelto said.
"There won't be any deductions of any sort made to existing employees?" Raxcibius, the Shift Manager for third, asked.
"None at all." Kelto shook his head. "Citadel Souvenirs values its employees, and we feel, now more than ever, that it's vital we make that clear both to all of you and to the public."
"So, what you're really saying is Citadel Souvenirs doesn't dare upset any of us in the midst of the backlash of what Irene and Werin did?" Lania—one of the few people Charles had actually met before—huffed and shook her head. The asari was the Shift Manager for the first shift, and from what Charles gathered listening to everyone talk, it was the crappiest shift to be manager of.
"Certainly Ms. Waters and Mr. Menoko's actions play a part in the decisions Citadel Souvenirs has made, but I assure you, there was never any intention to penalize any of you for their actions regardless of whatever backlash there may be." Kelto blinked and shook his head, leaning forward to rest his hands on the table.
"When will new people be hired?" Mahlia asked, her gaze shifting between Charles and Kelto as if she wasn't sure who exactly to direct her question at.
Figuring he might as well jump into the conversation since he was supposed to be at least partially in charge there, Charles cleared his throat and said, "I'll be reviewing the applications we have on file this afternoon and setting up interviews for the second shift."
Kelto nodded. "Each shift's manager will be responsible for their own hiring and firing, just the same as always."
The first thing Charles did as Shift Manager was ask his current employees if they had anything they wanted to change in regards to what position, days, or hours they worked. It didn't surprise him too much to learn both Mahlia and Cammus were content, nor did it surprise him to hear a list of demands come tumbling out of Okal's mouth.
The salarian—who worked a swing shift, replacing people as needed mostly—insisted she not stay past three GST on the odd days of the week. She adamantly refused to come in any earlier than one on the even days because on those days she usually worked third shift the night before and said, "Even though salarians don't sleep their lives away like humans, we do have other things to take care of."
There were other things, too, such as questioning whether or not Charles planned to reorganize the back room since he took over Irene's position. He assured her he didn't intend to. Why the hell would he? He thought the whole thing was stupid when it happened, but it was done, and there was no point in spending the time and energy it'd take to move everything back to the way it was before Okal got her hands on it.
She pressed to be allowed to spend part of her shift, when things were calm, cleaning the store 'since no one else does' and the 'dust' aggravated her allergies. Charles told her so long as she wasn't neglecting customers or her other duties, he didn't care what she did, but reminded her that, in fact, someone came in between each shift to clean. Apparently, she wasn't impressed with their skills.
Finally, things quieted down and everyone went off to do their jobs, leaving Charles feeling a little lost. The beast stirred, seeming to sniff the air around him before settling back into place. Charles sucked in a deep breath and moved back to the break room table, taking the datapad holding the applications with him. Sitting down, he lit a cigarillo and started reading the first application.
Stay busy, Charles. Just stay busy.