A/N: It's been a good writing week, so it's a bonus-chapter week!
Quote credit: Christmas Joy.
This was the last thing Gus needed.
He already wanted to curl up in bed and give up on the day after he'd yelled at Shawn. Now he had to deal with his parents on top of it?
What did he do to deserve this?
"You and your mother have been fighting enough," his father said when it was clear that Gus wasn't going to say anything. "You know the rule: you can get as mad as you like, as long as you spend the same amount of energy working on it afterwards. It's time to work on it."
Gus glanced back at Shawn, taking in his completely blank slave-face. A family meeting was the last thing he needed, but it was something Shawn needed. The arguments about him couldn't be helping his state of mind. Gus mentally braced himself and looked back at his father. It was just one more conversation; he could do this.
His father seemed to read the acceptance on his face. "Go put your stuff away in your room, then come back down so we can talk this out."
Gus sighed and nodded before heading to his room. He was halfway up the stairs before he realized his father had meant both of his purchases when he'd said 'his stuff'. His hand tightened around the leash and he had to fight to not slam his bedroom door open once they reached it.
Why, why did his parents have to be so dumb?
He unclipped the leash from Shawn's collar and watched uncomfortably as Shawn looked between the corner he'd been kneeling in and the bed he'd been sitting on.
"I'm sorry for yelling again, please don't feel like you have to kneel." Gus hated how desperate he sounded, but it was worth it when Shawn slowly walked to the bed and sat down, placing the bag of movies next to him. Gus closed his eyes and let himself take a calming breath before speaking again. "Dad apparently doesn't want you down there while we talk about you, which is dumb. You aren't stuck in my room, just so you know, and the top of the stairs is a really nice place to hang out. You can practically hear the whole first floor from there."
He quickly turned around and left the room, leaving the door open as an invitation. He'd tell Shawn what all they figured out, but it seemed wrong for him to have to hear it second-hand. And this way, if he decided to listen, he wouldn't have to worry if Gus was lying.
His father started once Gus sat down. "Burton, we appreciate you agreeing to talk with us."
It wasn't worth pointing out that he didn't exactly have a choice. Gus looked between his parents and asked, "What are we talking about?"
"You and your mother clearly disagree on how your… Shawn is supposed to behave. We're going to hear both sides and then come up with a compromise." His father paused, clearly waiting for someone to take the initiative.
His mother straightened up and spoke in a forced-calm voice. "We went to the market to buy a slave. One that would cook and clean and serve at meetings. While I disapprove of the slave you chose, I think he should at least fill those roles."
"I think that makes a lot of sense," his father told her before turning to Gus. "Burton, what are your thoughts?"
Gus had a lot of thoughts, but not many that would help in this meeting. He took a deep breath to buy himself another second to think before he said, "When you agreed that I could take Shawn home, you said he was mine. That means I'm in charge of what he does and how he's treated. You've been…" He remembered a lesson from a previous family meeting and changed what he was going to say. "When you guys have tried to dictate what he does without asking me, it makes me feel like you don't actually think that he's mine."
The fact that they treated Shawn like he was a thing while they dictated what he did was even worse, but Gus wasn't going to win any arguments about that point. He needed to keep his focus on what he could actually change.
"We hear you, and we're sorry you feel that way." His father opened his hands and gestured to both of them. "It seems to me like there's a clear compromise here. While Shawn is in our house, he does what he was bought to do. But, Burton can set rules on how he's treated during that time."
Gus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from pointing out that his mother was getting exactly what she wanted, but he was only getting part of his. Some compromise.
"And what about when Burton goes to school?" his mother asked snappily. "It's not like there's much work for a slave in a dorm room. We paid for a slave, we shouldn't only get two and a half months with one."
"Too bad," Gus shot back, "he's my slave and he's coming with me."
He wasn't going to lose on that point. He didn't care what they said, Shawn was staying with him.
"That sounds like a matter to discuss after we figure out how this summer will go," his father said, clearly trying to bring them back on track. "Burton, Shawn will be working around the house all day. How would you like your slave to be treated?"
Gus stared down his mother as he quickly made his list. "Rule one, I'm in charge of discipline. Dad said so back at the market. Even if I'm not here, you don't use the collar or anything else to hurt him."
God, please never make him have to actually hold up his side of that rule.
"Agreed," his father said. His mother tightened her lips, but didn't argue.
"Rule two, I've allowed him unrestricted speech. You don't take that away." Gus thought quickly; he needed to make his rules count. "Rule three, he eats the same food as us, at the same time as us. You don't make him work through a meal."
His mother cut in before he could continue. "If he speaks inappropriately, I will do something about it. I don't allow it from you, I won't put up with it from him either. And he doesn't sit at our table."
Gus rolled his eyes at her bizarre boundaries. "Fine on the table. And he gets a chance to prove he doesn't need the collar to make him speak 'appropriately'. If you do put restrictions on him, you tell me so I don't have to find out on my own."
His father watched them with a large smile as his mother nodded in agreement.
Gus spoke quickly before anyone could try to move the conversation on. "Rule 4-"
"How many of these are there going to be?" his mother snapped.
Gus ignored her as he continued, "Rule 4, he gets breaks. Every 2 hours, like other people who have to work. And he doesn't have to keep working once dinner's cleaned up."
His parents traded an uncomfortable look before his father leaned forward. "Look, I understand that you're trying to be a good owner, but I don't think you really understand how slaves work. And that's partially on us. It never came up, and we never really made the time to talk about it." He paused, his eyebrows furrowing like he was making sure he had all of the right words lined up. "Slaves aren't like me and you; they're not real people. They look the same, but they think differently. Sort of like a different culture."
That made a sick kind of sense, but Shawn hadn't always been a slave. How could his thinking be that different?
"Slaves need to be useful; it's the only way they can be happy. Even though you're trying to help… if you tell him to not work, you're actually keeping him from being fulfilled."
His mother muttered, sing-songing under her breath, "Which is why he should stay with us when Burton goes to school…"
Gus shook his head; he knew better. Shawn had been happy to be given good food, he'd been happy when he hadn't had to kneel, he'd been happy when he'd been given his name back. But he'd also looked happier when Gus had given him the bag to carry, and when Gus' mother had given him a not-terrible inspection, and he'd been the one to instigate his first chore…
Maybe he didn't know better.
It was all confusing and complex, and it wasn't fair that he was supposed to try to figure it out in a minute while his parents watched him. A memory rose up, like a guardian angel was guiding his thoughts, and he remembered Shawn looking wary and guarded when asked if he'd follow orders. When Shawn had thought Gus was only being nice to make him compliant.
It was small, but Gus latched onto it. It didn't match his father's narrative of a thing-person, but it did match with Gus' belief that Shawn was a human-person.
"I want to try it," Gus decided. "If Shawn isn't comfortable with having breaks, I'll take the rule back. But I want him to have the chance to try it out."
His mother argued back, "I'm not having him just sit around while I work."
"Then have him sit in my room, I don't care. You can take breaks whenever you want, all I'm asking for is a few scheduled breaks for him too." Gus recited the rules in his head: No punishments, no restricting speech, no skipping meals, no days without breaks. Was he missing anything? "Last one. Rule five, you don't order him to do anything that will hurt him, or that he can't do."
"That one's simple enough," his father agreed. "It wouldn't be a very good investment if we damaged him."
Gus clenched his jaw around the words he wanted to spit out. His father was agreeing with him; it didn't matter that his wording was weird. "And I get to add rules if I realize I missed something." He met his mother's eyes. "If that's how you treat him, then I won't complain about you being in charge of him during the day."
His mother eyed him up for several seconds with tight lips before finally letting out a sharp breath. "I agree to your terms. For now."
His father loudly brought his hands together with a large smile. "Excellent. Let's shake on it, and then get dinner."
"I still want to discuss where the slave goes when Burton goes to college," his mother immediately complained.
"That discussion is for another day, dear." His father gave her a pointed look. "Tonight was just so you two could work out your current differences. We can talk about Shawn's future once we see if this arrangement works."
Gus had hoped to have everything figured out tonight as well, but he -annoyingly- did have to agree with his father. They probably weren't in the right frame of mind to figure anything else out. He glanced back at the stairs before asking, "Is it ok if Shawn and I eat dinner in my room? I can let him know what we agreed to, and I did promise him that we'd watch movies."
"Yes, you may," his father said. He hesitated before slowly adding, "I know that Shawn is new and exciting right now, and you want to spend time with him. But, remember what I said about slaves? He's going to behave however he thinks you want him to behave; it's how he can do his job and make you happy. It's why slaves can't be friends. Not real friends."
The times that Shawn had been the most comfortable and the most likely to act friendly had been the times he hadn't been acting like a slave. His father was wrong; that wasn't why they couldn't be friends. How could Shawn ever be friends with the person who literally controlled every aspect of his life?
Gus didn't acknowledge what his father had said as he walked over to his mother and held out his hand. She stood up to meet him and shook on their deal, her scowl less pronounced than before.
It felt wrong, making decisions and setting rules when Shawn wasn't even in the room. They could have agreed on anything and Shawn would have had to go along with it. Gus walked to the kitchen and gave his head a sharp shake; he had to take the wins he could get. Shawn was still going to have to do work around the house, but at least he'd be treated a bit better now.
Because being given decent food and not being hurt was 'better'.
Gus growled quietly, trying to bleed off some of his frustrated energy as he opened the fridge, checking the spread of leftovers. If he was being completely honest, he was just as angry with himself as he was with his parents. How could he have gone eighteen years without actually thinking about slaves or what their lives were like? How could he have been ok with just ignoring them and pretending like they didn't exist?
If he hadn't found Shawn, would he have grown up to think like his parents?
And none of that was helping him pick out what his slave should eat for dinner. Gus rolled his eyes at himself and shoved the rest of his thoughts back. Shawn's mouth was still torn up and it hadn't been medicated since before breakfast. Gus had forgotten about that at lunch, but he could remember now. Meatloaf and spaghetti were too acidic to be good for the open sores, so he needed the simpler stuff.
Gus pushed the containers around in the fridge to reach into the back and grab the grilled chicken and mashed potatoes they'd had a few nights ago. He grabbed some food for himself as well and heated it all up before bringing everything to the stairs.
"Burton," his mother called out as he lifted his foot to the first step.
"Yeah, Mom?"
"I expect to have help with the morning routine; make sure your slave wakes up early enough to be ready by the time I'm down here."
"Fine," Gus bit out as he climbed the stairs quickly. He was so done with his parents. His mother was usually up and going by 6:00; hopefully Shawn wasn't a heavy sleeper.
After a quick stop in the bathroom to grab the tube of cold sore medicine, Gus let himself into his room to find Shawn sitting exactly where he'd left him. Had he moved at all?
At least the alone time seemed to have done him good; he seemed calmer than before. Gus handed over the medicine as he said, "It'll probably be easier to eat without your mouth hurting."
Shawn took the tube, but his eyes continued to flick over to the food. Gus started to hold out the chicken before pausing. He'd already made a lot of decisions for Shawn in the last half an hour; it was time to give him one back. He held out both plates. "One of these is for you, I like both. Pick whichever you want."
A flicker of panic crossed Shawn's face before he hid it behind his blank mask. He stared at the two plates before his eyes dropped down to the tube of medicine in his hand. He swallowed heavily before answering, "I'd… May I please have the chicken, sir?"
"Yes, you can," Gus said as he held out the plate. It was the one that made the most sense with Shawn's sores. And it was the one that Gus had already started to hand over. Had it been Shawn's choice, or just what he'd thought Gus wanted him to choose?
Trying to be a good owner came with way too much second-guessing.
Shawn took the offered food while studying Gus. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Shawn hesitated again before putting the unused medicine down and picking up the fork. Gus huffed a quiet laugh as Shawn glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and shoveled potatoes into his mouth. That choice had been purely Shawn. Gus' father was wrong.
Gus grabbed the water glasses from his side table and filled them in the bathroom before sitting at his desk. Neither of them said anything as they ate their food. As he finished the last few bites of noodles, Gus' eyes gravitated towards the back of his desk where he'd tossed Shawn's papers. Shawn hadn't always been a slave, and there was probably more information about that in his documents. But it felt rude to look while Shawn was in the room.
Because clearly it was fine as long as Shawn didn't know about it…
Gus sighed and set aside that thought to deal with later. "So, my parents and I came to an agreement. Hopefully we won't be fighting about you as much now."
Shawn looked up, but didn't give any indication of whether or not he'd listened into the conversation.
"You'll be doing housework stuff during the day, like what you did today, but they have to treat you right. They can't hurt you, or tell you to do anything you can't do. And they have to let you talk, give you food, and give you breaks." Gus scoffed as he shook his head. "Because my parents are apparently too dumb to know what basic human rights are. Sorry I couldn't do more."
Shawn raised an eyebrow and Gus had the distinct feeling that his slave thought he was the one being dumb. "Slaves don't have rights."
"Yeah, I'm getting that…" Gus crossed his arms across the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He should have noticed it before; he should have known it was wrong.
Shawn carefully put his empty plate down and picked up the tube of medicine, turning it in his hands. His eyebrows lowered and he looked over. "Why are you fighting your parents about this?"
"Because that's what teenagers do," Gus answered wryly. He shrugged and gave the real answer, "Because they're wrong."
At least he knew it now.
Shawn looked up further, meeting his eyes. "They're not wrong. What your father said was right; slaves aren't people."
The fact that he didn't flinch when he admitted to eavesdropping was probably a win. It just wasn't a win Gus could celebrate when it came with those words. He shook his head. "I don't believe that."
Shawn's expression shuttered closed and he looked back down at the ground.
Gus quickly continued, "You're not in trouble. I just… I'm pretty sure you weren't always a slave, and I don't see how having a collar put on could be enough to make a person not a person."
"It wasn't," Shawn said softly. He shook his head sharply before he opened the tube and started spreading the medicine in his mouth. Gus let him have his distraction as he thought about the admission. Was Shawn agreeing that he knew he was a person, or was he just saying that it had been something else that had taken away his personhood?
Gus had always loved puzzles and logic games. It was far too easy to think of his slave as another puzzle to solve, but part of treating him right had to include respect and privacy. So, even though curiosity itched at him, Gus let the subject drop and returned to their previous conversation. "You know, the rules I gave them, they're like your name." Shawn looked over in confusion and Gus explained, "I did the best I could, but if you think of ones you'd prefer, or you don't like the ones I did come up with, I'll change them."
Shawn looked like he was about to point out -again- that he'd do whatever Gus told him, but he stopped himself. He chewed his lip and watched Gus carefully before finally asking, "When I'm not working during the day, what do you want me to do?"
At least he wasn't fighting the idea of breaks. "You can rest, do your own thing, whatever you want. I've got books, comics…" Which might not be any good if he wasn't literate. "Uh, stupid question time again." Shawn tilted his head curiously and Gus asked, "Can you read?"
Shawn hesitated before answering tentatively, "Yes…"
The sir was barely suppressed, and Gus had to stop himself from thanking Shawn for the effort. Instead, he asked, "Do most slaves know how to read?"
Shawn shrugged, looking relieved that Gus hadn't reacted to his answer. "I don't know. There's training for it."
The training card in front of Shawn had been blank. He hadn't been trained to read; he'd learned it on his own. Or he'd learned it before being collared.
"Well, if you want to read my stuff, feel free-" Gus winced at the terrible idiom, though Shawn's dark smirk softened the sting of feeling like an idiot. "You're allowed and welcome to read anything there. Just don't open the collector comics that are in sleeves or boxes." He watched the collar to make sure it blinked red at the order before continuing. "You can use my computer too if I'm not using it. We can set up a profile for you."
Shawn was starting to look overwhelmed at the options, which meant it was time to wrap it up to let him process. Gus shrugged and finished with, "Downtime is for you to do what you want. Don't set my room on fire, otherwise I don't care what you do."
Shawn flinched at the joke order, which was concerning, but at least the collar blinked red. It would have been bizarre if there were sensors for that exact situation.
"Why do you keep doing that?" Shawn asked quickly with a tint of desperation in his voice. Gus looked up to meet his eyes in surprise and Shawn flinched again before catching himself. The medicine tube spun in his hands as he elaborated. "Whenever you say an order, you look at my collar."
"Oh," Gus realized. Had he really been that obvious? "I'm watching to see if it's an order the collar can enforce."
"You can tell?" Shawn asked in surprise.
And Gus felt like face-palming himself. Of course; it wasn't like Shawn would have been around mirrors when he'd been ordered around. Gus nodded towards Shawn's neck and explained, "There's lights on your collar. Some of them indicate if an order can be enforced or not."
"Huh, so that's what those were," Shawn murmured to himself, his eyes moving rapidly without seeming to see anything. They snapped back to Gus as he rattled off, "Green for a collar order, yellow for taking away an order, and red for an anti-collar order."
Gus' eyebrows rose in surprise. Now that was impressive. "Yeah, exactly that. How did you…?"
"Slaves see more than people think," Shawn answered evasively. He seemed to be ready to say something else before snapping his mouth closed and looking back down at the tube in his hand. It spun faster and faster before coming to an abrupt stop as Shawn let out a frustrated huff. He set it on the bed and asked, "So… you see a slave -one who has to be gagged- and you buy it, then you take it home and… don't want to give it orders?"
"Him," Gus corrected before nodding his head, "And, yeah. Pretty much."
Shawn looked at Gus in bewilderment as his lips moved, shaping the word 'why' without actually saying it. He seemed almost frantic as he looked for something on Gus' face that didn't seem to be there, and his voice shook as he said, "I don't- Slaves don't know how to be good without orders."
"Maybe I don't want you to be good," Gus challenged him.
It had been the wrong thing to say. Shawn's face went lax, and his eyes snapped down to the floor. His head bowed, his hands clasped together, and Gus was almost surprised that he didn't sink down to his knees to complete the transformation back to an obedient, blank slave.
Gus bit the inside of his cheek as hard as he could, welcoming the small, sharp pain. He'd been making progress, damnit. Then he'd had to go and push it too far.
Shawn was borderline hyperventilating as Gus tried to play damage control. He spoke in a low, gentle voice as he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. All I meant was…" He'd meant that Shawn was fascinating, and Gus wanted to see more of the real-him. He liked that his slave still had some defiance even after the world had tried to beat it out of him. But that was clearly too dangerous of a concept for Shawn's second night with his new master. "All I meant was that I don't want to act like a typical owner. So it makes sense that I need to be ok with you not acting like a typical slave. I'm not going to punish you for that."
Shawn didn't answer or move, and Gus sighed before moving slowly to grab the Blockbuster bag. If nothing else, a movie could be background noise so the silence in the room wasn't so heavy. He put the Batman DVD into his computer and clicked play before moving to sit on the side of his bed.
Shawn cringed away when the mattress dipped down, and Gus pretended to not notice as he opened the bag of funyons and placed it between them. "You can watch with me if you want, and you can have some of the snacks. You don't have to, though."
As the opening credits rolled, Gus kept himself carefully still, only moving to grab a small handful of the funyons. He wanted to be a good master, but he wasn't going to let the bag go to waste. He kept an eye on his slave as Batman geared up, and was rewarded for his patience when Shawn glanced over at the screen. The look was brief, but it was repeated several times until he was outright watching when a man was saved from a container that was filling with acid.
Gus reached over and grabbed one more funyon, making sure to let the bag rattle loudly. It was almost like trying to coax a cat to him. It seemed to be working as Shawn shuffled around the bed a few minutes later so he could see the movie better. Gus nudged the crinkly bag again, moving it towards Shawn without grabbing any more. He kept his eyes on the laptop and couldn't stop his smile when the bag crinkled again without him touching it.
Shawn relaxed further as the movie played, but he stayed quiet even when Gus tried to start a conversation. Gus gave up after the third attempt and didn't say anything else until the end credits were rolling.
"So, that was, uh…" He struggled to find the right words to encompass the movie they'd just watched. "...not terrible?"
Shawn nodded in agreement, and Gus sighed as the heavy silence settled over them again. It was going to be a long, awkward night. Shawn looked down and fidgeted with the edge of his pants as Gus stood up to eject the disc from the laptop.
"The bat nipples were a bit much…"
It was said so quietly, Gus thought he'd imagined it. But when he looked back, Shawn was smirking nervously at him.
"They really were," Gus agreed as he finished putting the DVD away. "That would have been a very interesting wardrobe meeting to sit in on…"
"Yeah. Some of the stunts were good, though," Shawn's leg started to jiggle and he glanced at Gus several times before hesitantly continuing. "For a while I thought it'd be cool. To do stunts."
It was like tiptoeing on a wire surrounded by broken glass, but Gus was determined to not break the fragile trust Shawn was offering. "Yeah?"
Shawn nodded with a small shrug. "Hollywood, explosions, jumping off of things…"
"Sounds terrifying," Gus huffed with a small smile. "I've heard that there's even free people who do that stuff, even when it's dangerous."
"Yeah," Shawn said, suddenly seeming like he didn't want to continue the conversation.
Gus closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself; Shawn hadn't been talking about when he was a slave. He tried to fix his mistake. "I think people who do that, who want to do that, must be really brave."
"Or just boneheaded and incredibly stupid." The words sounded like insults, but they were said with a strange fondness.
"Maybe it's a bit of both," Gus said carefully as he started to pick up their dishes. Shawn suddenly appeared in front of him, their empty water glasses stacked together in one hand as he held out the other.
"Thanks." Gus handed over the dishes and watched as Shawn took them out of the room. Shawn was talking again, but there was still a wariness surrounding him. It was probably better to let him do some slave things like he was used to, even if it left Gus standing in his own room with no idea what to do.
After a minute of awkwardly staring at his door, Gus snapped out of his thoughts and walked to his closet. He pulled out two pairs of pajamas, tossing one set on the bed and putting the other one on. He needed to add sleepwear to his growing list of things to buy. Shawn came back into the room shortly after and did a double take when he saw the clothes laid out.
His eyes flicked over to Gus before he asked, "May I get ready for bed, sir?"
"Yes," Gus answered, feeling resigned that Shawn still felt the need for the honorific even though they were alone. "Though you don't have to ask permission for that. The pajamas are for you, I'm going to read, you don't have to stay up for me."
That seemed low-key enough; hopefully it would be enough to reassure his slave without making anything sound like an order. Shawn ducked his head in acknowledgement and collected the clothes before leaving the room again. Gus sighed and grabbed the book he'd started rereading the night before. At this rate, he was going to get through the whole series just by trying to avoid being awkward.
Shawn returned from the bathroom a few minutes later and gave him a small nod before settling down in his sleeping bag. Gus settled back into his bed, preparing for a quiet night, when Shawn surprised him. He seemed to do that a lot.
"Goodnight… Gus."
"Goodnight, Shawn," Gus said with a smile. Shawn fell asleep as Gus read about talking animals, riddles, and bonds of friendship that were stronger than family. It was optimistic, childish, and there was far too much food described… but it strangely gave him hope.
There were going to be a lot of bumps in the road, but they could make this work.
A/N: Harry Potter had just come out in 1996, however the Redwall series was in full swing by then. Though, this Redwall series probably wouldn't have slavery as the Big Bad nearly as often.