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Trip's eyes were watering and having trouble readjusting to the bright lights of the warehouse. The gag that had been in his mouth was soaked with spit and had chafed his lips hard enough to make the corners of his mouth bleed. He took a few deep breath through his mouth and then coughed on the air, his throat too dry to handle it all at once. He heard a familiar laugh to the right of him and found himself smirking in between coughs. Despite all the shit that had happened to him in the past day, he couldn't help but feel happy when he heard that voice.
"Oi, you're late."
"I'm sorry," Virus replied, stepping around Trip's body to untie his bound hands. "They were serious this time... much more careful than the last few poor attempts. It took us a while to track their movements. It was trickier than I thought it would be."
Trip groaned, half relieved and half-pained as Virus released his wrists and hands from the tight length of rope that had been binding them together. "Even for you?"
His eyes were still damn near useless, but Trip could hear the amusement in Virus's voice as he replied, "Mmm, even for me."
The next thing Trip knew, Virus was helping him into a seated position against the concrete wall and pressing a bottle of something cold into his hands. He screwed his eyes shut and raised one bruised hand to rub at them, and his vision finally returned enough to see that he'd been given water. He unscrewed the cap with shaky fingers -- and damn it, all this was making him feel weak -- and drained the whole thing in one go under Virus's amused but watchful gaze.
"Where are we?"
"A warehouse. Northern side of the Ward. One of ours, actually."
Trip spat the last bit of the water in his mouth onto the floor beside him. "An inside job?"
"Seems that way. It's not going to be a problem anymore."
"Heh," Trip scoffed. "Knew you'd keep it all under control."
"We didn't get this far by being incompetent," Virus said dispassionately. "They should have realised."
Trip smiled and licked his lips. He still felt dizzy, but that wasn't a surprise. He hadn't eaten for god knows how long, and there were only so many blows to the face he could take before it started to screw with his head. "Think I can walk now. Let's get out of here."
Virus didn't try to make him to rest longer or anything, and he was thankful for that; after spending the night being forced to lie on the damn floor like an animal, he was sick of resting. He looked down on himself and saw that he was covered in his own blood, and his face and head still hurt like hell. He needed Virus's help to walk more than a few steps, but if he had to rely on someone to help him, it could only be Virus anyway. As he walked out of the back room they'd been keeping him in and out into the main area of the warehouse, the smell of blood filled his nose and screams that had seemed so distant that they were completely ignorable suddenly seemed a lot louder. There were bodies everywhere -- mostly of people who he either didn't know or didn't give a shit about, thankfully -- but their people were taking care of the mess that Virus'd left behind.
The only face that didn't make him react with careful indifference or a quick smile was the face of the asshole that kidnapped him. A face that, he was pleased to see, was currently being abused by their own men like his face had been abused by that same asshole's men the night before.
"Now, now. That's enough," Virus said, a definite note of glee in his voice as he helped Trip to the chair the man was currently bound in. "Hello, Proxy. Were you surprised to see us?"
Proxy groaned, his head obviously still swimming from the assault he'd just endured. Virus ignored this and continued on as if he'd got a perfectly reasonable answer to his question.
"You were foolish. To think I was the weakest link, I mean. You got a little carried away. A little bit arrogant. I hope you've learned your lesson."
Proxy groaned and scowled through broken teeth and a mouthful of blood. "Fuck you, faggot."
Trip was ready when Virus lunged forward, and it was the only thing that kept him from losing his footing; the sound of Virus's fist making contact with Proxy's cheekbone almost made him shiver.
"Mmm, perhaps it was too much of me to expect anything of you. Some people really never learn," Virus said, wiping blood from the back of his own hand. "But I think it would be unfair for anyone but Trip to teach you the lesson you so desperately need. Don't you agree?"
Proxy still looked mostly defiant, but there was a definite note of panic in his eyes now. Trip smiled at the sight.
"This I can do."
"Excellent," Virus purred. With a simple gesture of his hand he was provided with a gun and he pressed it into Trip's grasp, his hand lingering a little too long over burnt and bruised knuckles for it to be unintentional.
And yeah, now there was definitely terror invading all of Proxy's senses; his body shook, his nostril flared, his eyes darted back and forth. Trip's smile grew wider, and he aimed the gun at Proxy's temple. Proxy's entire body went stiff, and Trip saw his chance. With one swift movement and careful aim brought on by years of practice, he shot a single bullet cleanly through Proxy's right foot.
He screamed and carried on, of course -- Trip had had too much goddamn dignity to carry on like that -- and Trip burst into delighted laughter.
"God, you should've seen your face. I thought you were gonna piss your pants like some sniveling brat."
"Be kind," Virus said with a smirk. "Not everyone can be as strong as we are, Trip. Some people aren't born with that kind of drive. And in a world like this..."
"Yeah," Trip said, and this time he aimed the barrel of the gun right at the middle of Proxy's terrified face, "people like that don't last long."
Trip pulled the trigger. A few flecks of Proxy's blood joined Trip's own blood on the front of his vest, but the floor and wall behind Proxy's lifeless corpse were a godawful mess of blood, brain and bone. Trip clicked his tongue, flicked the safety back on the gun and tossed it back to their underling, who caught it and began going about the business of cleaning up.
"We gotta get different guns. These ones make too much goddamn mess. The bullet goes in clean but when it comes out it leaves a hole the size of my damn fist."
"Settle down," Virus said, amusement creeping back into his voice. "We'll look into it. And it's done now, anyway."
Trip sighed through his teeth as Virus's arm worked its way around his waist. "Yeah, guess it is."
He let Virus lead him out to their car, and he'd never appreciated the comfort of the leather seats and the leg room so much as he did now. Virus hummed disapprovingly as blood smeared against the white leather interior, but he didn't seem that mad when Trip looked at him. He reached forward and rapped on the glass panel that divided them from their driver, and the car immediately sprang to life beneath them.
"Well, that was interesting," Virus said, fingers pressing against Trip's forehead. Trip hissed at the pain that shot through his skull; he hadn't even realised he was cut there, but then his whole face probably looked like shit right now.
"Yeah," he replied, shivering as Virus leaned forward and ran his tongue across across the wound on his forehead, as if to soothe it. "Let's not do it again anytime soon."
"Well, not with anyone else," Virus said, bottom lip stained with Trip's blood. "It's much more fun when it's just the two of us."
Trip smirked. "Still ended that way, didn't it."
"Would it ever end any other way?" Virus questioned, and when Trip opened his mouth to answer he found his Virus's lips.
"Course not," Trip said as Virus pulled away, his hands working over every inch of bruised and bloodied flesh on Trip's face, "we're stronger than that."
If the enthusiasm of Virus's next kiss was anything to judge by, he agreed with Trip wholeheartedly.