Chapter Text
2b2t wasn’t a place where one went looking for love, with its dog eat dog ideologies and vast nothingness of land, it made finding even the most carnal of affections difficult to come by. This was especially true for those who loved outside the standard box. With all its difficulties it wasn’t completely unheard of to find a couple roaming the wasteland, Fit personally had never met one, but with his endless research a few accounts had been shared of power couples conquering whole factions side by side. But never in his almost lifetime on 2b2t had he heard of gay couple in the wasteland.
What Fit HAD heard of was queers getting the shit beat out of them for daring to act that way. Hell, Fit had even seen it for himself.
He had still been a new spawn at that point, hardened but still fresh faced to some of the horrors the wasteland was hiding up its sleeve.
It was summer and he was trying to make his way towards a watering hole he knew of, mostly so he could find some much needed food. If things went his way however, he might even be able to swim and relax for a few minutes.
He was coming up over a hill of wrecked builds, it must have been a community at some point. Maybe some griefers found it but honestly it would be too hard to tell, everything was destroyed in 2b2t one way or another. Just as he reached the top of the hill, he began to hear shouts. He followed the voices until a group came into his line of sight. Around the edge of one of the buildings stood a group of what Fit assumed were red stone scavengers, based on their ruddy rust covered clothes and abundance of tools on their backs.
All of them were crowded around a young man who looked about Fit’s age. He was a scrawny thing, still a bit baby faced and shaggy haired, his voice was bouncing off the walls that surrounded them in horrible screeches, hoarse and scratchy. Fit quickly hid, back pressed against the ruined walls of an old blacksmithing house. He looked around the jagged corner of the building, the young man was being held by two of the four scavengers, gripped by the arms and bleeding from the head as he kicked and screamed.
It took Fit a second to make out what the scavengers were shouting, once he did, for some odd reason he started to feel sick to his stomach.
Every word that came out of their mouths was some kind of derogatory. ‘Queer’ this and ‘Fag’ that, each word punctuated with a kick to the man’s gut. Something about perving on them was said before the man was kicked in the head with a furious force.
Fit had heard it all before but never with so much passion. It wasn’t that 2b2t was a religious place; in fact it was far from it.The wasteland had proven itself a place where only the strong survive. It fostered an environment of machismo so potent you could choke on it, there was nothing weaker than a man dominating another man. To submit your will, to give up your heart, your mind, and most importantly your body… All signs of a weak and pathetic creature. How could you, as a pillar of strength, allow yourself to succumb to that? As for women it was no better, with them already at a societal disadvantage, they were even worse off if they couldn’t provide for men.
Fit had been fed this rhetoric since stepping foot here but today was the first time he saw it acted on. The younger coughed and hacked up insults back to the best of his ability, but it seemed to effectively do nothing. With what seemed like the last of his strength Fit watched as he head butted one of the scavengers that got too close.
The man stumbled back holding his head and hissing. His friends shook off their stunned expressions and began a rowdy cheer of “you’re gonna regret that!” The headbutt guy let go of his head and angrily tore out a small pocket knife from its sheath on his thigh. The young man lost the bite in his voice and began a gasping plea.
“No wait, wait, wait please!” he sobbed out, head desperately shaking back and forth.
But the scavenger didn't listen, he lifted the screaming man’s shirt and began to carve into his stomach. Not a gentle carve either, even from his distance Fit could see the blade catching on gushing chunks of skin. Angry red wobbly lines were formed from the man’s pectorals down to his belly button. Fit had trained himself to not wince with sympathy for anyone but for some reason, in the recesses of his mind, he felt a twinge of sadness for the man. When the scavenger stepped away the wound read, in big bloody letters, “FAG”.
The man was reduced to weezing, begging to be let go but the mockery just kept coming. Fit was overcome with the horrible feeling to help the man. A sick twist in his gut that said ‘maybe this is a bit too far.’ As if all the lessons he had learned about stoicism and self preservation were thrown out the window. He had never been one to stick his neck out for others, but this felt different. His stomach lurched at every bloody fist that hit the man in the face, at every kick to the groin, at every slur thrown. This felt unnecessary, this felt unwarranted, this felt wrong.
The scavenger with the pocket knife began to go on a rant, it was a bit jumbled in all the shouting from the others but Fit got the gist. The young man was caught saying something he shouldn't have, what it was, Fit wasn’t sure, but the group was obviously not pleased with it, the more they went on the more shame Fit felt for wanting to help. He turned back into the wall and closed his eyes.
This guy probably deserved it, he probably tried to creep on one of his friends, or worse caught feelings for one of them. Fit had no reason to help him, it would just make him a sympathizer, which probably meant there was something wrong with him, it probably made him gay, and Fit knew he was NOT gay.
Fit heard more yelling that was followed by a few wet cracks, of what, he wasn't sure. Shortly after that, the ruckus ended and the cold air was met with the sounds of heavy footsteps walking away. When he stuck his head back around the corner he saw the man lying in the dirt. Whether he was just unconscious or worse, Fit didn’t take the time to check. He turned heel and started back towards his base. He didn’t end up going to the watering hole, for some reason he just wasn’t hungry anymore.
Since then, Fit understood that there was no benefit great enough to combat the absolute horror that came with being a queer. There was something wrong with them, and if they were on 2b2t, that wrongness would be quickly stamped out.