Hell's Around The Corner, Part 2
May. 12th, 2008 11:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
luchiaHopefully this will make up for missing ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kseda's birthday...? At least it's got a Life-sized conspiracy going on, kind of? :D
Title: Hell's Around The Corner (But The Trip Ain't Free)
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: Tin Man is nooot mine. But oh, how I wish it was! D:
Warnings: THIS IS NC-17 FOR A REASON. Gore, violence, disturbing imagery, impossible Cunning Plans, porn, a lack of morality and a whooole lot of other Bad Things. This fic is nooot nice. And therefore I love it.
Summary: When Cain moved to the city, he was intent on taking down the crime lord that controlled it. But the crime lord has other ideas. And that's when everything goes to hell.
Hell’s Around The Corner
(But The Trip Ain’t Free)
You Can Always Pay More (but if you don’t have two coins? You’re fucked)
When Cain showed back up at the office in the morning, DeMilo was waiting, already in Cain’s chair and making it creak in a way that couldn’t be good. He looked just as greasy and blue as he had yesterday, and for some reason Cain found himself smirking a bit deviously at the idea of DeMilo walking into Finaqua wearing his uniform and the right kind of mask.
“What the hell do you think’s so funny?” DeMilo almost immediately asked. He’d taken the time to lean a bit menacingly on the desk first. “I got a report from our man at Glitch’s that said you were there after-hours, without him around.”
“I was,” Cain agreed, and blinked when he realized that unlike yesterday, he really didn’t care what the man in front of him thought about his methods or his goal. Cain just wanted to get Ambrose. Get Ambrose, protect the city, and let Glitch just live a happy life of tinkering with watches and not having to look around corners before walking.
DeMilo slapped a hand on his own forehead and pulled it down his face with a noise that sounded like an aggravated mother. “Christ, Cain. You got any clue how dangerous that kind of stuff is? We don’t know how often Glitch gets shaken down, we don’t know if its an every night kind of thing. You could have ended up trapped with Ambrose in that shop!”
“But I didn’t,” Cain said simply, and proceeded to completely ignore the other man’s arguments. They were more like criticism anyway, just shouting at someone and moaning over the hair they were losing. It got nothing done. “Do we have any hints about where the liquor comes from?”
DeMilo stared at him. “You can seriously think about that stuff right now? I’m about to have a heart attack with what you’ve pulled, and-”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Cain murmured, and got a glare in return.
“The specialty stuff comes in trucks from somewhere outside the city. No clue where they’re from, they can come at any time from noon to midnight. You can’t trace the trucks, and we’ve tried, trust me,” DeMilo said, and rolled his eyes. He finally got out of Cain’s chair and headed back over to his own office, slamming the door behind him. Cain barely noticed the noise this time.
“What about the generic stuff? He’d be out of liquor in a night at the rate you’re talking about,” Cain frowned, and received a nod.
DeMilo pulled out a map of the city. There were three black X-marks on the thing – two in the industrial and warehouse districts, and one in the residential. “The residential one…we tried to raid that once. All we ended up finding was a terrified woman in her late thirties, screaming for someone to help as she cowered against the stairs. Couldn’t find a drop of drink, but it’s there somewhere.” He glared at the X. “Or something.”
“And the other ones?”
He nodded, and pointed to the large warehouse. “This is where they hold the stuff, that much we know. Haven’t been able to get in because technically? It’s government property. And Uncle Sam isn’t about to let us run into their warehouse complex whether they know what’s being run in and out of it or not.”
Cain couldn’t help but be impressed. An impenetrable storehouse with nothing but a frantic woman in it, a government-protected warehouse full of booze, and the third. “And the last?”
“Factory. Ambrose is practically taunting us with this place.” DeMilo sneered at the X. “Storage, stills, it’s got the works in there. Only problem’s that it’s an arms manufacturing plant.”
“And Ambrose controls the people who work in there,” Cain said, blinking and a little amazed at how genuinely impressed he was with Ambrose. “So one is completely unknown contents but is psychological warfare on any raiding party,” He pointed to the house, “raiding one would mean raiding the federal government too,” he pointed at the huge warehouse, “and one would be an absolute massacre if you even tried to step foot in there.” Finger on the factory, he paused, looking further at the map, and blinked at the pumping station sitting straight in the middle of all three buildings. “City water.”
“What?”
Finaqua had been underground, anything that had been in that woman’s house had been underground, there had to be some sort of water flow in and out of that factory, and then they could just be turning on a faucet for the liquor to come out in the warehouse. The woman probably had the valves in her house somewhere, not booze. Cain blinked. “She turns water into wine. Ambrose, you clever son of a bitch.” He looked up at DeMilo. “You’ve got a map of the pipelines, right? Go get it.”
DeMilo paused, but nodded, leaving the room. Cain barely noticed. They couldn’t get into any of the buildings, but pipelines, well, those were nothing but city-owned property, weren’t they. He found himself grinning. Finaqua even meant something like ‘water’s end’ or something if his head was on correctly today.
Grinning, Cain sat in DeMilo’s chair, pulling out paper and pencil and starting to plan out the raid that would end Ambrose (that clever bastard) and his bootlegging businesses forever.
---
His father had said to go ask for a job at Glitch’s, and Jeb found himself walking into the store mid-morning. It was empty aside from the two clerks and the merchandise hung across the walls. The blond man in front of the watches smiled at him. “Looks like a mask to me.”
Jeb frowned, about to ask what the man meant, before the woman started talking. “You know, he really, really does.” He found himself staring at the woman, who was grinning at him. “We’ve been expecting you, Jeb Cain. How would you like a custom mask?”
The front door locked with a very loud click, and Jeb turned to stare at the blond man with a key in his hand, still smiling kindly at him. “We’re sorry about all of this, but sometimes it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
He was in trouble. He was in serious trouble, and there was no way out of it that Jeb could see. The blond man was stronger than him, and he’d never really been able to hit girls, so if she decided to start punching the only thing Jeb could do was run and hide. Why had his father said to come here? Why had he trusted some stranger to watch out for him, like his father had said this Glitch man would-
“Stop scaring him,” a voice practically pouted from the back room, and a man with a watchmaker’s glasses and a greasy smock on walked out of the back. He bumped into a corner on the way, and even through all that glass Jeb could see the eyeroll. “You know, every time I hit that thing I tell myself to either move it or me, and I always forget to.” He pulled off the glasses and set them aside, finally swinging himself up onto the counter next to the glasses. He smiled sunnily at Jeb. “Sorry for their manners. They’re a bit protective of me.”
For some reason, the man’s very presence was reassuring. It could have just been the fact he reigned in the other two so quickly, but there was something more. Those brown eyes were smiling, but there was no way they were cruel, or devious, or even befuddled. That was why Jeb paused. “You’re Glitch?”
The man nodded, still smiling, and Jeb noticed that the other two were behind him now. “Sometimes I’m Glitch. I actually prefer being Glitch – less stress, despite popular opinion. It’s a nickname, though,” he said. It almost sounded like he was confiding in Jeb. The man was leaning back now, looking amused. “You remind me of your father, Jeb. Got that same ready-to-shoot-my-way-out look he gets sometimes.” The man hopped off the counter. “But unlike your father, you don’t have a gun.”
That was the point where Jeb began to wonder if the kindness he felt off the man was really an act. If so, it was a hell of an act, but for some reason Jeb couldn’t help but believe the man.
“You’re very, very good at shadowing people, Jeb Cain,” the man often known as Glitch said, and picked up the glasses again, setting them in a pocket of his smock. “That’s the job I’d like to give you. I’ve already got twice the amount of workers I need in the store unless you’re talking about cover purposes, in which case I’ve got about as many as anyone could hope for!” He was still smiling and grinning and all cheerfulness. “Come on, I’m going to make you a mask.” He paused, turning to look at the other two. “Gold, you think? Bring out his hair. All the Cains have such nice blond hair, it’s ridiculous.”
“You’d know better than me,” the blond man said wryly, earning a chuckle from the woman.
“Gold sounds perfect,” the woman said, and Jeb almost jumped when he found an arm wrapped around his shoulders, the young woman smiling at him. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you unless you try to hurt us. We don’t work that way. Even if you decide you don’t want a job, you can go.”
“What kind of job are we talking about?” Jeb asked, following the procession of the sulking Glitch (who had once again bumped into that corner) into the back room.
“Just like he said,” the blond man said easily. “Shadowing people. Just following them, watching them, and reporting back.” He smiled. “Plus you’d practically get a whole new family.”
Jeb glared. “I like the one I have, thanks.”
“So do I,” Glitch added already motioning to a chair. Jeb didn’t move, so the other man sighed. “What have I got to do to hire you and get you to take a free mask? I know you’re bored out of your mind, I know you mean the world to your father, and I know that you are genuinely good at following people, even in that bright red scarf of yours.” Jeb blushed a little at that, hand going to the piece of fabric.
“I’d really like it if you took the job,” the young woman said a bit too lightly, moving her hand away. “I know you’ve already got a family, but our little makeshift one is…is pretty nice too.”
The blond man made an amused noise. “Am I going to have to go speak privately with Jeb?”
The girl frowned. “Not now, dad.”
Jeb blinked. “Dad?” They looked absolutely nothing alike.
The girl nodded, moving aside for proper introductions. “I’m DG, that’s my father Ahamo, and over there is my…what are you? Second cousin?”
Glitch paused, clearly deep in thought. “You, your mother, my mother, me…Cousins, actually.”
Jeb frowned. “Aren’t you a little old to be her cousin?”
The other man frowned, pulling Jeb into the chair. “You’re lucky I like your dad or I’d think you’re casting aspersions on our parents.”
Just like his father, Jeb tried his best to not make a sound through the process, even though he ended up hissing and biting his lip. Unlike his father, he cursed instead of shouted when the papier-mâché was ripped off his face. When Jeb opened his eyes, DG and Ahamo were gone, leaving just Jeb, Glitch, the mould, and…three coins? But there’d only been two on his eyes-
“I’m Ambrose,” the man said simply, almost sadly, and Jeb froze. “And before you go screaming about how I’m a horrible person and a crime lord and all that stuff, I want to tell you that everything I did, I did to keep my family safe. They asked for help, and I helped.” He flipped the third coin – it looked like it was made of glass, and he could hear a light ticking from it, see that it actually had a small watch inside of it. “After that it kind of snowballed. I think you know how that goes.”
Jeb did. His father had gone from a beat cop to a hell-bent detective after one of the guys in his area got shot and killed from simply talking to him about something. And that had led to the raids, and the newspapers, and to his mother being shot on the street, and moving. Moving over, and over, and over. Jeb definitely knew how things snowballed.
“You break an awful lot of laws, Ambrose,” Jeb said quietly.
Ambrose smiled a bit sadly. “Most of the laws I break are stupid ones or broken for self-defense, which is family-defense. And anyone that does otherwise is thrown out, mask crushed and usually told to get out of the city before anyone else tries to get them.”
His father had done the same. He’d practically gone vigilante in those last few days of hell. Jeb nodded. “I’ll take the job.”
Ambrose beamed at him. “Great! I’m so happy. I’m trying to get your father onboard too, but he’s still under the impression that the police are the good guys.”
“They aren’t?”
Ambrose just laughed and shook his head, finally tossing the two coins to Jeb, the clockwork coin going into his own pocket. “Go be a gentleman and ask DG out. She’s itching to do it but I keep telling her to be a lady, so she thinks she can’t ask first.”
Jeb blinked. “Really?”
“Really,” Ambrose said, amused. He put the glasses back on. “I’ll have your mask done by the time you get back.”
He paused, noticing the only other unfinished mask in the entire shop. “Why aren’t you done with that one?” Jeb asked despite himself. For some reason, simply being around such an open, friendly man, crime lord or not, disarmed his tongue.
Ambrose glanced back at Jeb. “Because I don’t know what to put on it just yet.”
He hesitated, but finally nodded, smiling more than he’d smiled in a very long time.
---
There was almost a bit of a bounce in Cain’s step as he headed for Glitch’s. Ambrose was going down, and soon. Jeb was there to watch out for Glitch, and Glitch was there to watch out for Jeb, not to mention Ahamo and Gale were there too in case anything started to happen. He’d gone straight from the station to the shop, fully intent on breaking the good news and hopefully finding some way to protect everyone from the aftermath.
The only problem with his plan was that there was a Sorry, we’re closed sign on the front door. Considering it was four in the afternoon, there was definitely something troublesome going on. He sprinted to the back door, eyes widening when he saw it was completely open, light spilling out of the back room.
“Glitch?” Cain shouted, eyes wide as he stepped inside, gun drawn and he closed the door quietly behind him, looking around fast.
There was a muffled bit of shouting from behind another door, and he wrenched the door open to see a dimly lit flight of stairs, the shout immediately clearing up. “-ath, what’s going on? Did something explode?”
Cain took a deep breath, holstering his gun and leaning against the closed door for a moment. He’d known the man for two days and was already wondering if Glitch was going to end up killing him from a heart attack. With a sigh, he started up the stairs. “Back door was open, front was closed. I thought something might have happened,” he replied, looking around. They were on top of the store. There were two doors, and two open entryways, one into a kitchen with a small dining room, the other into a nice-looking room with a slightly ratty couch and a dusty old radio set in it. “Where’s Jeb?” And where are you?
“Jeb and Gale went to a picture show, actually,” Glitch called out, much closer and sounding very amused. “I like your son. He’s like you but younger and even more repressed.”
“What do you mean repr-” Cain began, opening up a door to see Glitch staring at him from a full bathtub, completely naked in the water. Well of course he was naked in the water, hell, he even had a bar of soap half-raised in his hand. He was taking a bath. People were naked in bathtubs. There was nothing that should have made him shudder about this. Hell, he was naked when he took baths, it just-
Glitch cleared his throat and put the soap back on a nearby shelf, grabbing a towel off the same shelf, and Cain found himself wondering how the hell anyone could have skin that pale and flawless and Cain turned around, blushing, and started for the door.
“See, you Cains just don’t like having fun, from what I’ve seen,” Glitch said, which was accompanied by the slosh of water as he got out of the tub and then the sound of water going down a drain. “I’ve got a towel on, you can turn around. But anyway, I was saying that Jeb’s almost worse than you. Gale was flirting with him from the moment he stepped through the door, and when he finally said he’d go with her he almost looked guilty about it.”
Cain didn’t turn around, towel or no towel. Maybe he’d been too used to masks or those horrible watch-fixing glasses or Glitch having that horrible haircut of his in his eyes, but even eye contact was slightly disturbing.
A hand slid up his back to grab onto his shoulder. “Cain?” He didn’t move, and Glitch laughed a little nervously. “You know, of all times to not have my coin on me.”
“You have a towel on you, Glitch,” Cain said dryly. “And when I walked in there you didn’t even have that. I’d think underwear would be a bit more important then a coin.”
“Yes, you would. It’s one of many reasons why we’re different people, another of which is that you’re blond and I’m not,” Glitch said simply. “Do you have one on you anyway?”
Cain found himself shaking his head, but he pulled out a penny from his pocket and handed it over his shoulder. The hand didn’t move, though. Even if it had moved, he didn’t know if he’d have stepped away.
There was the ting of a coin launching into the air from a practiced flick, and then nothing but a “Hmm” from Glitch, followed by a long silence.
“…what was it?” Cain found himself asking despite himself, voice almost squeaky for some reason.
Glitch laughed. It was a different laugh, full of dark corners and dreams you never told your family about. The grip on his shoulder slid back down, and Cain turned around to see Glitch back in the bathroom, pulling out a hand towel to rub at his mass of brown hair.
“So what’d you come here to tell me? And Jeb said to tell you he’d be home after the picture was over.” The rubbing stopped for a moment. “…I thought you worked later.”
That actually got a laugh out of Cain, and he shook his head. “No, but I did get over here in a hurry.” He smiled. “I have very good news.”
“You got DeMilo’s job?” Glitch asked, face still obscured by the towel.
“Better,” Cain said, grinning. “I figured it out. I figured it out, and we’re taking Ambrose down.” The rubbing had screeched to a stop at Ambrose’s name. He frowned, eyes narrowing as he watched Glitch open the hand that still held Cain’s penny in it. One more time, it was flung up into the air and snatched back out on its way down. This time, however, Cain could watch Glitch stare at whatever side was up.
Glitch was slouching now. No, not slouching, he was just…leaning back, staring at the ceiling from beneath the hand towel. He sighed, letting the penny drop to the floor. “Cain, you need to get out of town, or you’re going to die.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we go through this last night?”
And then there were those eyes, big, brown and incredibly intense, looking straight into him. “It’s not Ambrose you’ll be running from this time. Do you think all the booze is about breaking laws and having a few laughs on the way thanks to an incompetent law force? Maybe in Denver it was, but here…” Glitch shook his head, pulling the towel off his head and glaring at his own reflection. “It’s about safety with Ambrose. But it’s just money to everyone else, and you led them straight to the source.”
Cain stared at him. “Glitch, don’t you get it? No more Ambrose means no more shakedowns, no more-”
“No it doesn’t! It means someone new shows up to terrorize all the little stores in the neighborhoods and all the girls like D…Dellia and Gale who’ll just get swept up in it, and how the fuck could you do this?!” Glitch rounded on him, striding towards him with such an ominous air around him that Cain actually stumbled backwards and fell straight into the still-draining tub, the back of his head slamming against the tile on the wall.
“Glitch, he was hurting you,” Cain hissed, only for his eyes to widen again at the sight of Glitch backing off and grabbing the penny again, and flipping it.
“First time it hasn’t been head on your penny,” he sighed, and flung the penny back onto the floor, walking over with one of the towels, only to put one leg on either side of Cain’s sprawled ones at the top of the tub and look down at him. “With mine, it’s only come up head once when it comes to you.”
“Isn’t it heads?” Cain found himself whispering.
Glitch smiled at him. “For most. I either get head or not when I flip a coin. What I should logically do, what’s best for everyone involved, what’s safest and I know is the least risky, that’s when it comes up head.” His hand reached out, touching the back of Cain’s head before leaning over and grabbing another towel to put behind his skull. “You’re not bleeding or concussed or anything, but I want to keep you healthy, okay?”
Cain just stared, letting the confusing man maneuver a towel behind his skull. “Glitch, I wasn’t planning on staying in this position for very long.”
And suddenly that hand wasn’t so clinical. Glitch leaned down and kissed him, lips soft and cautious as the hand behind Cain’s head made sure that towel stayed there while Glitch kissed him. When the shock was gone, Cain kissed right back, earning a pleased little hum from the other man. He tried to grab onto Glitch’s shoulder, and only ended up moaning when he felt the still-wet and naked skin beneath his hands.
Glitch pulled his mouth away, eyes shut, and Cain tried to follow. A part of his mind was wondering how the hell Glitch could pull this much…well, lust out of him. The rest was gaping when Glitch let his knees fall into the tub, straddling Cain’s hips with a sunny smile.
“…Glitch, I…” He trailed off, realizing he had no idea what he wanted to say. He just stared at all that bare skin, wondering how tight that towel was on, and then he made the mistake of looking up at Glitch’s uncovered eyes, fiery and brown and full of heat and darkness and pure, unashamed sex and the promise that it’d be very, very good. “Oh fuck.”
“That’s a very nice idea,” Glitch whispered, still smiling, and leaned forward to kiss him hard. Cain’s shirt was going to be ruined, he knew it from that wet chest pressed flush against his own, and he knew a hell of a lot more was going to be ruined. Himself, for one, since as soon as the kiss stopped Glitch ground against him, nothing but towel and pants separating them. The succubus eyes were back on his, and Glitch was practically taunting him now, leaving bites and kisses along his jawline and grinding and Cain had a white-knuckled grip on the bathtub, head leaning against the towel a lot more than he’d ever admit as he tried to keep himself in control.
“What do you want, Cain?” Glitch asked, idly running a finger down Cain’s cheek, and then neck, until it pressed over his shirt and finally, still smiling happily with dangerous eyes, the finger reached his thighs, circling playfully around his groin.
Cain was panting by now, hating himself for it a little. He hadn’t had sex since Adora died, always too busy or never actually interested. Cain had never been the type to make the first move, and Glitch seemed all too happy to do every bit of moving for him. The moving was driving him insane, making him feel all too fuzzy in the head and focusing a lot more on what his erection wanted than what his brain knew was right.
“Panting and having your eyes nearly roll up into your head is not-” Cain bit back a shout as Glitch’s hand finally grabbed onto him through the pants. “- an answer, Cain.” Glitch leaned forward for another kiss, and Cain’s arms finally wrapped around his naked, still-wet torso, feeling the slide of that skin and the way the water droplets left the fabric clinging to his skin. Cain tried to kiss him hard and rough, but apparently Glitch had other ideas, keeping the kiss sweet. How he managed that when their tongues were in each other’s mouths, Cain had no idea, but then again Glitch had him about to come in his pants from nothing but one finger, slick skin, and those insane, gorgeous, deadly eyes.
Glitch pulled away, and Cain moaned as the other man finally peeled off his pants, sliding his underwear down. Even the feel of air had him twitching and pulling Glitch hard against his chest, the towel sliding over his hips. Glitch took the opportunity to bite at his neck, and then lightly bite his ear.
“What. Do. You. Want.” It was a puff of air against his cheek and ear, and to punctuate the sentence Glitch ground against him one more time. Just the towel between them. Christ, just a towel between them and he could feel that Glitch was just as hard as he was.
“I want whatever you want right now,” Cain said fast, between his panting. “Whatever you want, oh God, just just just-”
Glitch’s hand was an angel. Either that or Satan because as soon as he was in Glitch’s hand he would have died from the lust and the heat and Christ, the stroking and the way he’d tighten his grip just that bit more in all the right places, he had to be either the best or worst thing that had ever hit the planet.
And then he stopped, making Cain slam his head against the wall, and the towel, and Glitch was licking up his neck. “Don’t stop,” Cain managed to gasp out. “Please, God, don’t stop-”
“I want you to leave Ambrose alone.” Cain froze, but then the hand returned, driving him crazy. “He does more for this city than I can explain, Cain, even if he does it the fast and dirty way. Like me.” Glitch squeezed a bit harder, and Cain let out a shout that was immediately swallowed by Glitch’s mouth, and tongue, and teeth. He was a moaning wreck of a man after that, so close that the only thing holding him back was the warning in Glitch’s eyes. A warning and a promise, even if he didn’t have a clue what that promise was.
“H-he’s a criminal I can’t just leave him AAAH-aah-alone,” Cain managed to get out, despite Glitch’s hand and teeth. “It’s my job Glitch oh god Glitch it’s my job-”
“I have plenty of time to-” Glitch swallowed hard, and it was honestly the first time he’d shown a reaction to all of this, shuddering and breathing a little lighter. “- to convince you. Too stubborn to leave town after all, and that means you won’t be able to run from me. Do you want to run from me?”
“Nooooooo I don’t want to run I don’t want to run God why would I run Glitch just faster-” When Glitch actually obliged, Cain shouted, eyes shutting tight, breath coming fast and not fast enough, not full enough, and when Glitch finally let him kiss as rough as he wanted Cain grabbed onto him and came so hard he was seeing specks of light, head slamming into the wall as he panted and squirmed and blinked when he looked down at Glitch, who had his face buried against Cain’s neck and Cain got a good view of a hideous-looking scar that ran down his left side’s back, the only place Cain hadn’t seen in the tub or while he’d been in the towel or any other time.
He ran a hand down it, and Glitch shuddered hard against him, biting out a, “Don’t touch it.” The words were so fierce that Cain blinked, and Glitch was kissing him again, but it felt like a kiss with some sort of meaning, a familiar meaning-
Cain grabbed onto Glitch’s hips. “You’re not throwing me out. You are not throwing me out.”
The other man was still hard, but managing to glare and almost act like he wasn’t incredibly turned on, which astounded him. How good an actor was he?
How good a liar?
“Whatcha gonna do, Cain, shoot me?” Glitch hissed out, sitting on the edge of the tub again and ignoring the stunned look on Cain’s face. Glitch tossed him a towel. “Clean yourself up, go home, act like this never happened. Ask Jeb about his date. Live your little copper life and you can come over for some fun and find yourself a nice woman to marry and-”
“You’re not an idiot,” Cain said, using the towel and trying to ignore the fact he’d probably get hot and bothered every time he saw a towel after this. “Don’t act like one. I’m not one for flings, Glitch. I said I wouldn’t run, and I meant that.”
For a long time, Glitch’s chest still heaving, they stared at each other.
“Fine,” Glitch whispered, and got all the way out of the tub. He grabbed the penny off the floor and tossed it back to Cain, who barely managed to catch the thing. Glitch wasn’t looking at him, and the set of his shoulders told Cain that he didn’t like this at all. “Just remember you’re only getting deeper into this. A lot deeper.”
Cain simply nodded, pulling his pants back up and pausing as an idea popped into his head. “…speaking of being deep into things, mind helping me out of the tub?”
Glitch blinked, and then a horrified look came over his face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Cain,” he said, and immediately grabbed Cain’s outstretched arms, yanking him out of the tub. “You couldn’t even…” The horror only intensified, and the eyes that looked at him were dumbfounded, guilty brown. “Did you even want to? I had you trapped and-”
Cain kissed him again, earning a surprised noise from Glitch before Glitch was pressed against him, backing them into part of the bathroom wall. It left Cain wondering if he’d have brain damage if they kept this up, but didn’t really care. Sometimes things were worth a few bumps to the head.
---
Ambrose watched the still-sleeping form of Wyatt Cain. They’d eventually made it to the bed, and that was where Cain rested now. He’d slept too, of course, but there really was no rest for the wicked. The ticking of his coin had woken him up exactly four hours later, and now he was clean and dressed, wondering what the hell to do about this.
You decided he’d be a toy and an experiment. But he hadn’t known how good Cain really had been back there, had only known the man’s reputation, hadn’t had enough to make a good call.
The coin flip had landed on head. Killing him would have been problematic, letting him roam free would have been just as bad, it had been a good idea, all until Cain had decided to start thinking of him as Glitch and not just some guy with connections. Or, even more disturbingly, had seen Ambrose inside of his Glitch mask. He’d turned them into one person, not separating the lives like Ambrose had done for so long.
Head, he was Ambrose. Calculating, efficient, intelligent, loyal to a cutthroat, cold-blooded murdering level. He’d killed and he was more than willing to kill again for what he thought was important. Necessity had turned him into a crime lord.
The other side of the coin, he was Glitch. Friendly, playful, skilled, and best of all, free. Glitch could go everywhere Ambrose couldn’t, see everything that the Ambrose in him protested, waste time in ways Ambrose would cringe at.
Ambrose had been Glitch once upon a time, and he was starting to worry that Cain could flip the coin at times he needed to be Ambrose. Ambrose was necessity; Glitch was indulgence. Glitch was escapism. Glitch was him before all of this had started, before…well. Everything. He’d been Ambrose the watchmaker, Ambrose the mask-maker, not a crime lord or a criminal or, hell, even capable of self-defense, let alone defending anyone he loved.
Cain looked innocent and harmless in his sleep. Sometimes Ambrose wondered if he looked like that when he was asleep, or if that was when every mask fell off and anyone who walked in would see the monster of necessity inside him. Cops were dangerous, he was playing with fire, and no matter how crafty a fox he might be, he was sleeping with the hound on his heels now.
It keeps him in sight, he tried to convince himself, only to sigh, putting a hand over his own forehead. You fucking idiot, he’s going to break it all. He’s going to break you. You fucked around with your hunter and you don’t think he’s going to notice you’re the fox? That you’re the one he’s trying so hard to kill?
“Shut up,” he whispered to his own mind, and quietly slipped out the door of his bedroom, locking the door behind him and leaving a very Glitch-sounding and honest note.
‘Locked you in just in case someone bad comes around. Be back soon. PS Your watch is all fixed up.’
Ambrose was in his blacks, black shoes, black dress shirt, black suit with thin off-white pinstripes, and an off-white tie he’d barely bothered to tie. DG called it his ‘business suit,’ but they all had their version of no-nonsense tells. You didn’t mess with Raw when he had his fur coat on, or Zero with his leather coat on, or Azkadellia when her skirt trailed past the floor.
But for Ambrose to have put on his ‘business suit’, it usually meant he was ready to kill someone with his bare hands if he had to. That was a little different than the others’ tells.
He locked the door at the top of the stairs, and while he was walking down them he checked out the thin knives on him. It probably saved his life, all things considered, since it gave him time to hear the shuffling of someone on the other side of the stairway door.
Protect Cain, even if he’s going to ruin you.
“Nah, really?” Ambrose hissed almost silently at his head. “Thanks for stating the obvious, it helps so much.” He was still quiet enough to hear the ticking of his coin, hear the plodding footsteps of those outside the door. He didn’t recognize any of the footstep patterns. None of them were family, and when he opened the door just enough to look in at the people, he winced. Long coats on every one of them, all wearing hats and most holding guns of all shapes and sizes. Ambrose took a deep breath, barely restraining himself from smacking his head on the back of the door in aggravation.
He was wearing his own tell of ‘Do Not Mess With Me’, and he had idiots roaming around his shop just asking to get killed. There were much more productive ways to harness his mood, but he was stuck here, and probably going to end up-
Bullets riddled the wall inches from where he stood against the door, and his eyes opened wide as the familiar voice of an idiot began to sing. “Mask-maker, mask-maker, fill up my flask! Give me some booze! Make it a cask!”
Laughter echoed through the shop, and Ambrose snapped just a bit. The good part of him was still in bed with Cain. The bad part of him was more than happy to be right here. Things slowed down in his mind, the ticking of his coin stabilizing him, harnessing him, and without feeling anything other than necessity and determination, he pulled out four of his throwing knives and opened the door, walking straight out of the door at a comfortable clip and killing the three men in the back room. A knife to the eye, throat, and the stomach, respectively, and he smoothly moved under his work station, barely getting his suit dirty as he pulled out another throwing knife and put his stiletto in his belt. He could get the knives out of the dead men before disposing of them, after all.
“’Ey, come on now, shop man!” the same idiot shouted out, and Ambrose was grateful for the fact you could sleep through an earthquake in his bedroom, because he wanted Cain to figure out Antoine DeMilo was slime all on his own. “I just saw one of my men go down, I know you’re in here!”
“Very astute,” Ambrose muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.
Why haven’t you killed him yet?
“I am not debating that right now,” he hissed out, hearing the click of footsteps in the front of the store getting closer to where he crouched, the ticking of his watch, the…thud upstairs.
His head whipped towards the stairs. Cain was awake. Protect him, finish them quickly. He was naked up there, naked and bruised (in very nice ways) and would come walking down here unarmed and die after DeMilo realized his cover was up because Cain was a good cop.
Ambrose leaned back out and immediately let his feet glide over to the doorframe, sticking his head out to see more of the men in long coats watching the back room, and he barely avoided some more bullets being shot through him by sinking to the floor as a jumpy man tried to take out a piece of his arm.
The biggest difference between knives and guns, as Ambrose saw it in this day and age, was that with guns, you expected the weapon to do all the work. You just pointed, pulled the trigger, and waited for whatever you’d shot to die.
He pivoted, and the knife slammed into the man’s Adams apple, gun hitting one of the other men as he fell. He could hear DeMilo running out the front door, along with the rest of the men. Ambrose sighed, hearing the pounding on the top of the stairs’ door. So much for sleeping through an earthquake when it came to Wyatt Cain. But, first things first.
Ambrose picked up the phone, connected to Finaqua, and called in a cleaning crew. There wasn’t a speck of blood on Ambrose, but as soon as Cain saw the area, he’d know just about everything, including that his happy little Glitch also happened to be the man he was trying to kill. But first things first. He locked the door at the base of the stairs and started pulling his knives out of the men. Found himself shaking his head, too.
Why haven’t you killed him yet? Because of Cain? No, he’d let DeMilo live for much longer than he’d even really been aware of Cain’s existence. Then why? He did have a bit of respect for the authorities still, and it was one of his favorite things about Ahamo, but this…this wasn’t normal. DeMilo was a threat, he should have been dead a very long time ago.
You don’t want to kill anyone anymore.
“Shut up,” he muttered, the scar on his back burning just a bit. He’d dragged the last man behind the mask counter, and with a grim expression on his face, he grabbed the pitch-black mask inside the cash register, shutting the currency drawer with that ethereal ping noise that he never seemed to get tired of. Mask in one hand, he sighed and grabbed some rope in the other, putting it in a bag.
“Glitch!” was repeatedly coming through the locked door, and he could see Cain punching away at it through the bullet holes. Figuring they were pretty useful, he let his eyes wander straight into them and at Cain’s…
Ambrose blinked. “I thought you’d at least put some clothes on, Cain. Come on, beating doors down in nothing but your birthday suit? God, imagine the blisters – or even worse, splinters-”
“Glitch!” Cain was immediately at the wall, staring at him with concerned eyes. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”
“Oh, just the usual bad guy shakedown,” he said lightly. “Can I suggest you put on some clothes and get back home before, um.” Ambrose paused, not really certain how to say ‘before the cleaning crew shows up.’
Luckily Cain spoke first, eyes going dark. “Ambrose?”
“Foot soldiers,” Ambrose said instead, putting on a nervous smile that he wasn’t terribly sure was fake. “I’m, um. Kind of important to them, you know. And Gale.”
Cain shook his head. “Glitch, we both have to leave. After the raid, this will all be over. No more Ambrose-”
“No more Gale?” he interrupted lightly, and Cain gave him a face like he’d just hit him with a hammer. Ambrose sighed. “I’d like to be done with all this, Cain, I really, really do. I’m so tired of it all, of all these little problems that become big ones and these questions and…it’s exhausting. It’s like I’m a workhorse forced to pick the way back home in a rainstorm, but I’m a brand new horse who’s never been there.”
“You have a home, Glitch.” Cain frowned. “And it has bullet holes in it now. Ever heard the phrase ‘home is where the heart is?’”
Cain wouldn’t understand it. There was a part of him screaming in aggravation at that, but it was true – Cain would never understand what could drive a man to becoming what he’d become. Cain had become an avenging angel. Ambrose had been avenging, sure, but hadn’t done it in any angelic sort of way. Cain shot you while looking you in the eye until the light in them faded, where Ambrose would just stab you at the base of your neck and walk away.
Ambrose stepped away from the bullet holes. “Cain, you need to either go upstairs and hide there for a few hours, or step out right now.”
Cain immediately bashed the door open, heading straight for Ambrose until he froze, finally seeing the mask in his hands. Ambrose smiled sadly, seeing some of the foot soldiers were already coming through the front door and waiting by the mask counter for instructions. Ambrose had to have the mask on if he spoke with them, either that or act like a gibbering mess, and he wasn’t in the mood to play damsel in distress.
“You’re Ambrose,” Cain whispered, and it sounded like his heart had just shattered.
He looked away. “And Glitch. Ambrose is just my work face, really-”
“Your work face? Glit-Ambrose, you have a shop, why do you say that is your work face…oh God, you’re Ambrose.”
It hurt, hearing the venom and disgust and horror in his proper name. “Yes Cain, I’m Ambrose. In fact, I just killed four people who would have killed us if I hadn’t gotten them first.” He could hear his coin ticking away in his pocket, hear the muttering of the foot soldiers, hear the sharp, pained breathing coming from Cain. “But I’m also Glitch.”
Cain’s jaw set itself into a firm glare, and Ambrose barely managed to dodge the punch, catching the next fist in his own hand, glaring. “Cain, I don’t want to hurt-”
He didn’t even see the second punch, and Cain was one mean son of a bitch because he’d gone straight for the scar. It left Ambrose falling to the ground, panting as his side burned. He heard someone running through the back door, a gait he knew, a dangerous one. Protect him.
Ambrose barely managed to slide the mask onto his face, trying to ignore the way it felt like he’d been sliced open all over again. He took a deep breath. “Cain-”
The other man kicked him hard in the gut. Ambrose hissed, falling onto his back, and if he didn’t know better, Ambrose would have said Cain looked close to crying. “Two days and you…you managed to-”
“Run,” Ambrose panted out, the footsteps getting closer. “Go upstairs, hide, go out the fire escape-”
But it was too late.
“What the fuck?!” A gun’s hammer was pulled back, and Ambrose held out a hand in the universal sign for stop, brown eyes staring Zero down until the man put his own hands up.
Ambrose slid the bag to Zero and Azkadellia. “Back room. Take him and go.”
“Where’s Jeb?” Cain hissed out at Ambrose.
“You really think you’re in a position to make demands?” Zero shouted out, grabbing the bag. Azkadellia grabbed the rope, which earned a shudder from Zero.
“Excuse me, but do you want me to put any clothing on him?” Azkadellia asked, proper and just as strict as Zero’s posture got when they noticed the outfit.
“Tie him up naked. Bag him naked.” He looked away. “Then grab any blanket you can find and wrap him nice and warmly.”
She nodded, and started tying while Zero fetched blankets. Cain’s eyes never moved from Ambrose’s.
“Where’s Jeb.”
Azkadellia turned to look him in the face. “Golden boy? Last I saw, he and DG were taking a walk in the park, actually.” She smiled slightly at him. “He’s practically family already.”
The hit-with-a-hammer look was back, and Ambrose finally managed to get off the floor, still hissing at the burning pain on his back and instinctively holding it. He could only look at Cain for a minute at most before something horrible and filthy crawled up inside him and started to burn just as hard as his scar.
He finally walked out into the front room, where Raw had showed up too. He couldn’t blame them – it was rare for Ambrose to need any help with the shop. You did the best you could.
“Still wasn’t good enough,” Ambrose sighed to himself, putting a hand to his hair and letting it fall.
“This them?” Raw asked, looking just as sympathetic and painfully understanding as he always did when Ambrose was around. It was disturbing how well Raw could understand him – or anyone, for that matter.
But first things were always, always first. The coin was head up, after all, and Ambrose’s hand snuck into his pocket, grabbing the coin and feeling his own pulse mix with the ticking inside of the glass. “That’s them.”
Raw nodded. “Any specific plan?”
He pulled out the coin. Logic was to get rid of them quietly, but emotions and soul and conscience…he flung it into the air, caught it, and checked.
Not heads. He smirked a bit at his friend. “Oh yes. A very specific plan, in fact.”
---
When dawn finally hit the windows of the empty police station, DeMilo was genuinely confused at the fact it was empty. There were people milling about the front whispering to each other, along with a woman that looked like she’d fainted and been propped up on the stairs.
“What’s going on?” he demanded from the first person who he could see, and their eyes widened, backing down the stairs to the group below. Whispers immediately started up, and that was enough. DeMilo pulled out his keys, only to realize he didn’t need them when the door simply swung open. Frowning, he stepped inside, and stared.
Four of the wooden chairs used for a sort of waiting room in the lobby were lined up, each inhabited by a man with their badge pinned to the long coats that were so familiar, knife wounds on each of them. They all had blank faces, their hands set neatly on their thighs as if they were waiting for their number to be called.
One nickel rested on each eye.
There was a cask of something undeniably alcoholic next to them, and DeMilo stared at the words painted on it.
As requested last night.
-A
That was also when he noticed the notes under each hand.
This Death Was
Courtesy Of
Antoine DeMilo
The keys fell to the ground, and DeMilo screamed as the final piece showed at their feet, an omen darker than any other he’d ever seen. It was a death sentence that sent the man running for the bathroom, and he started vomiting, the word that could be nothing but a death sentence when dealing with a man like Ambrose.
WAR
---
kseda's birthday...? At least it's got a Life-sized conspiracy going on, kind of? :DTitle: Hell's Around The Corner (But The Trip Ain't Free)
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: Tin Man is nooot mine. But oh, how I wish it was! D:
Warnings: THIS IS NC-17 FOR A REASON. Gore, violence, disturbing imagery, impossible Cunning Plans, porn, a lack of morality and a whooole lot of other Bad Things. This fic is nooot nice. And therefore I love it.
Summary: When Cain moved to the city, he was intent on taking down the crime lord that controlled it. But the crime lord has other ideas. And that's when everything goes to hell.
(But The Trip Ain’t Free)
You Can Always Pay More (but if you don’t have two coins? You’re fucked)
When Cain showed back up at the office in the morning, DeMilo was waiting, already in Cain’s chair and making it creak in a way that couldn’t be good. He looked just as greasy and blue as he had yesterday, and for some reason Cain found himself smirking a bit deviously at the idea of DeMilo walking into Finaqua wearing his uniform and the right kind of mask.
“What the hell do you think’s so funny?” DeMilo almost immediately asked. He’d taken the time to lean a bit menacingly on the desk first. “I got a report from our man at Glitch’s that said you were there after-hours, without him around.”
“I was,” Cain agreed, and blinked when he realized that unlike yesterday, he really didn’t care what the man in front of him thought about his methods or his goal. Cain just wanted to get Ambrose. Get Ambrose, protect the city, and let Glitch just live a happy life of tinkering with watches and not having to look around corners before walking.
DeMilo slapped a hand on his own forehead and pulled it down his face with a noise that sounded like an aggravated mother. “Christ, Cain. You got any clue how dangerous that kind of stuff is? We don’t know how often Glitch gets shaken down, we don’t know if its an every night kind of thing. You could have ended up trapped with Ambrose in that shop!”
“But I didn’t,” Cain said simply, and proceeded to completely ignore the other man’s arguments. They were more like criticism anyway, just shouting at someone and moaning over the hair they were losing. It got nothing done. “Do we have any hints about where the liquor comes from?”
DeMilo stared at him. “You can seriously think about that stuff right now? I’m about to have a heart attack with what you’ve pulled, and-”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Cain murmured, and got a glare in return.
“The specialty stuff comes in trucks from somewhere outside the city. No clue where they’re from, they can come at any time from noon to midnight. You can’t trace the trucks, and we’ve tried, trust me,” DeMilo said, and rolled his eyes. He finally got out of Cain’s chair and headed back over to his own office, slamming the door behind him. Cain barely noticed the noise this time.
“What about the generic stuff? He’d be out of liquor in a night at the rate you’re talking about,” Cain frowned, and received a nod.
DeMilo pulled out a map of the city. There were three black X-marks on the thing – two in the industrial and warehouse districts, and one in the residential. “The residential one…we tried to raid that once. All we ended up finding was a terrified woman in her late thirties, screaming for someone to help as she cowered against the stairs. Couldn’t find a drop of drink, but it’s there somewhere.” He glared at the X. “Or something.”
“And the other ones?”
He nodded, and pointed to the large warehouse. “This is where they hold the stuff, that much we know. Haven’t been able to get in because technically? It’s government property. And Uncle Sam isn’t about to let us run into their warehouse complex whether they know what’s being run in and out of it or not.”
Cain couldn’t help but be impressed. An impenetrable storehouse with nothing but a frantic woman in it, a government-protected warehouse full of booze, and the third. “And the last?”
“Factory. Ambrose is practically taunting us with this place.” DeMilo sneered at the X. “Storage, stills, it’s got the works in there. Only problem’s that it’s an arms manufacturing plant.”
“And Ambrose controls the people who work in there,” Cain said, blinking and a little amazed at how genuinely impressed he was with Ambrose. “So one is completely unknown contents but is psychological warfare on any raiding party,” He pointed to the house, “raiding one would mean raiding the federal government too,” he pointed at the huge warehouse, “and one would be an absolute massacre if you even tried to step foot in there.” Finger on the factory, he paused, looking further at the map, and blinked at the pumping station sitting straight in the middle of all three buildings. “City water.”
“What?”
Finaqua had been underground, anything that had been in that woman’s house had been underground, there had to be some sort of water flow in and out of that factory, and then they could just be turning on a faucet for the liquor to come out in the warehouse. The woman probably had the valves in her house somewhere, not booze. Cain blinked. “She turns water into wine. Ambrose, you clever son of a bitch.” He looked up at DeMilo. “You’ve got a map of the pipelines, right? Go get it.”
DeMilo paused, but nodded, leaving the room. Cain barely noticed. They couldn’t get into any of the buildings, but pipelines, well, those were nothing but city-owned property, weren’t they. He found himself grinning. Finaqua even meant something like ‘water’s end’ or something if his head was on correctly today.
Grinning, Cain sat in DeMilo’s chair, pulling out paper and pencil and starting to plan out the raid that would end Ambrose (that clever bastard) and his bootlegging businesses forever.
---
His father had said to go ask for a job at Glitch’s, and Jeb found himself walking into the store mid-morning. It was empty aside from the two clerks and the merchandise hung across the walls. The blond man in front of the watches smiled at him. “Looks like a mask to me.”
Jeb frowned, about to ask what the man meant, before the woman started talking. “You know, he really, really does.” He found himself staring at the woman, who was grinning at him. “We’ve been expecting you, Jeb Cain. How would you like a custom mask?”
The front door locked with a very loud click, and Jeb turned to stare at the blond man with a key in his hand, still smiling kindly at him. “We’re sorry about all of this, but sometimes it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
He was in trouble. He was in serious trouble, and there was no way out of it that Jeb could see. The blond man was stronger than him, and he’d never really been able to hit girls, so if she decided to start punching the only thing Jeb could do was run and hide. Why had his father said to come here? Why had he trusted some stranger to watch out for him, like his father had said this Glitch man would-
“Stop scaring him,” a voice practically pouted from the back room, and a man with a watchmaker’s glasses and a greasy smock on walked out of the back. He bumped into a corner on the way, and even through all that glass Jeb could see the eyeroll. “You know, every time I hit that thing I tell myself to either move it or me, and I always forget to.” He pulled off the glasses and set them aside, finally swinging himself up onto the counter next to the glasses. He smiled sunnily at Jeb. “Sorry for their manners. They’re a bit protective of me.”
For some reason, the man’s very presence was reassuring. It could have just been the fact he reigned in the other two so quickly, but there was something more. Those brown eyes were smiling, but there was no way they were cruel, or devious, or even befuddled. That was why Jeb paused. “You’re Glitch?”
The man nodded, still smiling, and Jeb noticed that the other two were behind him now. “Sometimes I’m Glitch. I actually prefer being Glitch – less stress, despite popular opinion. It’s a nickname, though,” he said. It almost sounded like he was confiding in Jeb. The man was leaning back now, looking amused. “You remind me of your father, Jeb. Got that same ready-to-shoot-my-way-out look he gets sometimes.” The man hopped off the counter. “But unlike your father, you don’t have a gun.”
That was the point where Jeb began to wonder if the kindness he felt off the man was really an act. If so, it was a hell of an act, but for some reason Jeb couldn’t help but believe the man.
“You’re very, very good at shadowing people, Jeb Cain,” the man often known as Glitch said, and picked up the glasses again, setting them in a pocket of his smock. “That’s the job I’d like to give you. I’ve already got twice the amount of workers I need in the store unless you’re talking about cover purposes, in which case I’ve got about as many as anyone could hope for!” He was still smiling and grinning and all cheerfulness. “Come on, I’m going to make you a mask.” He paused, turning to look at the other two. “Gold, you think? Bring out his hair. All the Cains have such nice blond hair, it’s ridiculous.”
“You’d know better than me,” the blond man said wryly, earning a chuckle from the woman.
“Gold sounds perfect,” the woman said, and Jeb almost jumped when he found an arm wrapped around his shoulders, the young woman smiling at him. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you unless you try to hurt us. We don’t work that way. Even if you decide you don’t want a job, you can go.”
“What kind of job are we talking about?” Jeb asked, following the procession of the sulking Glitch (who had once again bumped into that corner) into the back room.
“Just like he said,” the blond man said easily. “Shadowing people. Just following them, watching them, and reporting back.” He smiled. “Plus you’d practically get a whole new family.”
Jeb glared. “I like the one I have, thanks.”
“So do I,” Glitch added already motioning to a chair. Jeb didn’t move, so the other man sighed. “What have I got to do to hire you and get you to take a free mask? I know you’re bored out of your mind, I know you mean the world to your father, and I know that you are genuinely good at following people, even in that bright red scarf of yours.” Jeb blushed a little at that, hand going to the piece of fabric.
“I’d really like it if you took the job,” the young woman said a bit too lightly, moving her hand away. “I know you’ve already got a family, but our little makeshift one is…is pretty nice too.”
The blond man made an amused noise. “Am I going to have to go speak privately with Jeb?”
The girl frowned. “Not now, dad.”
Jeb blinked. “Dad?” They looked absolutely nothing alike.
The girl nodded, moving aside for proper introductions. “I’m DG, that’s my father Ahamo, and over there is my…what are you? Second cousin?”
Glitch paused, clearly deep in thought. “You, your mother, my mother, me…Cousins, actually.”
Jeb frowned. “Aren’t you a little old to be her cousin?”
The other man frowned, pulling Jeb into the chair. “You’re lucky I like your dad or I’d think you’re casting aspersions on our parents.”
Just like his father, Jeb tried his best to not make a sound through the process, even though he ended up hissing and biting his lip. Unlike his father, he cursed instead of shouted when the papier-mâché was ripped off his face. When Jeb opened his eyes, DG and Ahamo were gone, leaving just Jeb, Glitch, the mould, and…three coins? But there’d only been two on his eyes-
“I’m Ambrose,” the man said simply, almost sadly, and Jeb froze. “And before you go screaming about how I’m a horrible person and a crime lord and all that stuff, I want to tell you that everything I did, I did to keep my family safe. They asked for help, and I helped.” He flipped the third coin – it looked like it was made of glass, and he could hear a light ticking from it, see that it actually had a small watch inside of it. “After that it kind of snowballed. I think you know how that goes.”
Jeb did. His father had gone from a beat cop to a hell-bent detective after one of the guys in his area got shot and killed from simply talking to him about something. And that had led to the raids, and the newspapers, and to his mother being shot on the street, and moving. Moving over, and over, and over. Jeb definitely knew how things snowballed.
“You break an awful lot of laws, Ambrose,” Jeb said quietly.
Ambrose smiled a bit sadly. “Most of the laws I break are stupid ones or broken for self-defense, which is family-defense. And anyone that does otherwise is thrown out, mask crushed and usually told to get out of the city before anyone else tries to get them.”
His father had done the same. He’d practically gone vigilante in those last few days of hell. Jeb nodded. “I’ll take the job.”
Ambrose beamed at him. “Great! I’m so happy. I’m trying to get your father onboard too, but he’s still under the impression that the police are the good guys.”
“They aren’t?”
Ambrose just laughed and shook his head, finally tossing the two coins to Jeb, the clockwork coin going into his own pocket. “Go be a gentleman and ask DG out. She’s itching to do it but I keep telling her to be a lady, so she thinks she can’t ask first.”
Jeb blinked. “Really?”
“Really,” Ambrose said, amused. He put the glasses back on. “I’ll have your mask done by the time you get back.”
He paused, noticing the only other unfinished mask in the entire shop. “Why aren’t you done with that one?” Jeb asked despite himself. For some reason, simply being around such an open, friendly man, crime lord or not, disarmed his tongue.
Ambrose glanced back at Jeb. “Because I don’t know what to put on it just yet.”
He hesitated, but finally nodded, smiling more than he’d smiled in a very long time.
---
There was almost a bit of a bounce in Cain’s step as he headed for Glitch’s. Ambrose was going down, and soon. Jeb was there to watch out for Glitch, and Glitch was there to watch out for Jeb, not to mention Ahamo and Gale were there too in case anything started to happen. He’d gone straight from the station to the shop, fully intent on breaking the good news and hopefully finding some way to protect everyone from the aftermath.
The only problem with his plan was that there was a Sorry, we’re closed sign on the front door. Considering it was four in the afternoon, there was definitely something troublesome going on. He sprinted to the back door, eyes widening when he saw it was completely open, light spilling out of the back room.
“Glitch?” Cain shouted, eyes wide as he stepped inside, gun drawn and he closed the door quietly behind him, looking around fast.
There was a muffled bit of shouting from behind another door, and he wrenched the door open to see a dimly lit flight of stairs, the shout immediately clearing up. “-ath, what’s going on? Did something explode?”
Cain took a deep breath, holstering his gun and leaning against the closed door for a moment. He’d known the man for two days and was already wondering if Glitch was going to end up killing him from a heart attack. With a sigh, he started up the stairs. “Back door was open, front was closed. I thought something might have happened,” he replied, looking around. They were on top of the store. There were two doors, and two open entryways, one into a kitchen with a small dining room, the other into a nice-looking room with a slightly ratty couch and a dusty old radio set in it. “Where’s Jeb?” And where are you?
“Jeb and Gale went to a picture show, actually,” Glitch called out, much closer and sounding very amused. “I like your son. He’s like you but younger and even more repressed.”
“What do you mean repr-” Cain began, opening up a door to see Glitch staring at him from a full bathtub, completely naked in the water. Well of course he was naked in the water, hell, he even had a bar of soap half-raised in his hand. He was taking a bath. People were naked in bathtubs. There was nothing that should have made him shudder about this. Hell, he was naked when he took baths, it just-
Glitch cleared his throat and put the soap back on a nearby shelf, grabbing a towel off the same shelf, and Cain found himself wondering how the hell anyone could have skin that pale and flawless and Cain turned around, blushing, and started for the door.
“See, you Cains just don’t like having fun, from what I’ve seen,” Glitch said, which was accompanied by the slosh of water as he got out of the tub and then the sound of water going down a drain. “I’ve got a towel on, you can turn around. But anyway, I was saying that Jeb’s almost worse than you. Gale was flirting with him from the moment he stepped through the door, and when he finally said he’d go with her he almost looked guilty about it.”
Cain didn’t turn around, towel or no towel. Maybe he’d been too used to masks or those horrible watch-fixing glasses or Glitch having that horrible haircut of his in his eyes, but even eye contact was slightly disturbing.
A hand slid up his back to grab onto his shoulder. “Cain?” He didn’t move, and Glitch laughed a little nervously. “You know, of all times to not have my coin on me.”
“You have a towel on you, Glitch,” Cain said dryly. “And when I walked in there you didn’t even have that. I’d think underwear would be a bit more important then a coin.”
“Yes, you would. It’s one of many reasons why we’re different people, another of which is that you’re blond and I’m not,” Glitch said simply. “Do you have one on you anyway?”
Cain found himself shaking his head, but he pulled out a penny from his pocket and handed it over his shoulder. The hand didn’t move, though. Even if it had moved, he didn’t know if he’d have stepped away.
There was the ting of a coin launching into the air from a practiced flick, and then nothing but a “Hmm” from Glitch, followed by a long silence.
“…what was it?” Cain found himself asking despite himself, voice almost squeaky for some reason.
Glitch laughed. It was a different laugh, full of dark corners and dreams you never told your family about. The grip on his shoulder slid back down, and Cain turned around to see Glitch back in the bathroom, pulling out a hand towel to rub at his mass of brown hair.
“So what’d you come here to tell me? And Jeb said to tell you he’d be home after the picture was over.” The rubbing stopped for a moment. “…I thought you worked later.”
That actually got a laugh out of Cain, and he shook his head. “No, but I did get over here in a hurry.” He smiled. “I have very good news.”
“You got DeMilo’s job?” Glitch asked, face still obscured by the towel.
“Better,” Cain said, grinning. “I figured it out. I figured it out, and we’re taking Ambrose down.” The rubbing had screeched to a stop at Ambrose’s name. He frowned, eyes narrowing as he watched Glitch open the hand that still held Cain’s penny in it. One more time, it was flung up into the air and snatched back out on its way down. This time, however, Cain could watch Glitch stare at whatever side was up.
Glitch was slouching now. No, not slouching, he was just…leaning back, staring at the ceiling from beneath the hand towel. He sighed, letting the penny drop to the floor. “Cain, you need to get out of town, or you’re going to die.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we go through this last night?”
And then there were those eyes, big, brown and incredibly intense, looking straight into him. “It’s not Ambrose you’ll be running from this time. Do you think all the booze is about breaking laws and having a few laughs on the way thanks to an incompetent law force? Maybe in Denver it was, but here…” Glitch shook his head, pulling the towel off his head and glaring at his own reflection. “It’s about safety with Ambrose. But it’s just money to everyone else, and you led them straight to the source.”
Cain stared at him. “Glitch, don’t you get it? No more Ambrose means no more shakedowns, no more-”
“No it doesn’t! It means someone new shows up to terrorize all the little stores in the neighborhoods and all the girls like D…Dellia and Gale who’ll just get swept up in it, and how the fuck could you do this?!” Glitch rounded on him, striding towards him with such an ominous air around him that Cain actually stumbled backwards and fell straight into the still-draining tub, the back of his head slamming against the tile on the wall.
“Glitch, he was hurting you,” Cain hissed, only for his eyes to widen again at the sight of Glitch backing off and grabbing the penny again, and flipping it.
“First time it hasn’t been head on your penny,” he sighed, and flung the penny back onto the floor, walking over with one of the towels, only to put one leg on either side of Cain’s sprawled ones at the top of the tub and look down at him. “With mine, it’s only come up head once when it comes to you.”
“Isn’t it heads?” Cain found himself whispering.
Glitch smiled at him. “For most. I either get head or not when I flip a coin. What I should logically do, what’s best for everyone involved, what’s safest and I know is the least risky, that’s when it comes up head.” His hand reached out, touching the back of Cain’s head before leaning over and grabbing another towel to put behind his skull. “You’re not bleeding or concussed or anything, but I want to keep you healthy, okay?”
Cain just stared, letting the confusing man maneuver a towel behind his skull. “Glitch, I wasn’t planning on staying in this position for very long.”
And suddenly that hand wasn’t so clinical. Glitch leaned down and kissed him, lips soft and cautious as the hand behind Cain’s head made sure that towel stayed there while Glitch kissed him. When the shock was gone, Cain kissed right back, earning a pleased little hum from the other man. He tried to grab onto Glitch’s shoulder, and only ended up moaning when he felt the still-wet and naked skin beneath his hands.
Glitch pulled his mouth away, eyes shut, and Cain tried to follow. A part of his mind was wondering how the hell Glitch could pull this much…well, lust out of him. The rest was gaping when Glitch let his knees fall into the tub, straddling Cain’s hips with a sunny smile.
“…Glitch, I…” He trailed off, realizing he had no idea what he wanted to say. He just stared at all that bare skin, wondering how tight that towel was on, and then he made the mistake of looking up at Glitch’s uncovered eyes, fiery and brown and full of heat and darkness and pure, unashamed sex and the promise that it’d be very, very good. “Oh fuck.”
“That’s a very nice idea,” Glitch whispered, still smiling, and leaned forward to kiss him hard. Cain’s shirt was going to be ruined, he knew it from that wet chest pressed flush against his own, and he knew a hell of a lot more was going to be ruined. Himself, for one, since as soon as the kiss stopped Glitch ground against him, nothing but towel and pants separating them. The succubus eyes were back on his, and Glitch was practically taunting him now, leaving bites and kisses along his jawline and grinding and Cain had a white-knuckled grip on the bathtub, head leaning against the towel a lot more than he’d ever admit as he tried to keep himself in control.
“What do you want, Cain?” Glitch asked, idly running a finger down Cain’s cheek, and then neck, until it pressed over his shirt and finally, still smiling happily with dangerous eyes, the finger reached his thighs, circling playfully around his groin.
Cain was panting by now, hating himself for it a little. He hadn’t had sex since Adora died, always too busy or never actually interested. Cain had never been the type to make the first move, and Glitch seemed all too happy to do every bit of moving for him. The moving was driving him insane, making him feel all too fuzzy in the head and focusing a lot more on what his erection wanted than what his brain knew was right.
“Panting and having your eyes nearly roll up into your head is not-” Cain bit back a shout as Glitch’s hand finally grabbed onto him through the pants. “- an answer, Cain.” Glitch leaned forward for another kiss, and Cain’s arms finally wrapped around his naked, still-wet torso, feeling the slide of that skin and the way the water droplets left the fabric clinging to his skin. Cain tried to kiss him hard and rough, but apparently Glitch had other ideas, keeping the kiss sweet. How he managed that when their tongues were in each other’s mouths, Cain had no idea, but then again Glitch had him about to come in his pants from nothing but one finger, slick skin, and those insane, gorgeous, deadly eyes.
Glitch pulled away, and Cain moaned as the other man finally peeled off his pants, sliding his underwear down. Even the feel of air had him twitching and pulling Glitch hard against his chest, the towel sliding over his hips. Glitch took the opportunity to bite at his neck, and then lightly bite his ear.
“What. Do. You. Want.” It was a puff of air against his cheek and ear, and to punctuate the sentence Glitch ground against him one more time. Just the towel between them. Christ, just a towel between them and he could feel that Glitch was just as hard as he was.
“I want whatever you want right now,” Cain said fast, between his panting. “Whatever you want, oh God, just just just-”
Glitch’s hand was an angel. Either that or Satan because as soon as he was in Glitch’s hand he would have died from the lust and the heat and Christ, the stroking and the way he’d tighten his grip just that bit more in all the right places, he had to be either the best or worst thing that had ever hit the planet.
And then he stopped, making Cain slam his head against the wall, and the towel, and Glitch was licking up his neck. “Don’t stop,” Cain managed to gasp out. “Please, God, don’t stop-”
“I want you to leave Ambrose alone.” Cain froze, but then the hand returned, driving him crazy. “He does more for this city than I can explain, Cain, even if he does it the fast and dirty way. Like me.” Glitch squeezed a bit harder, and Cain let out a shout that was immediately swallowed by Glitch’s mouth, and tongue, and teeth. He was a moaning wreck of a man after that, so close that the only thing holding him back was the warning in Glitch’s eyes. A warning and a promise, even if he didn’t have a clue what that promise was.
“H-he’s a criminal I can’t just leave him AAAH-aah-alone,” Cain managed to get out, despite Glitch’s hand and teeth. “It’s my job Glitch oh god Glitch it’s my job-”
“I have plenty of time to-” Glitch swallowed hard, and it was honestly the first time he’d shown a reaction to all of this, shuddering and breathing a little lighter. “- to convince you. Too stubborn to leave town after all, and that means you won’t be able to run from me. Do you want to run from me?”
“Nooooooo I don’t want to run I don’t want to run God why would I run Glitch just faster-” When Glitch actually obliged, Cain shouted, eyes shutting tight, breath coming fast and not fast enough, not full enough, and when Glitch finally let him kiss as rough as he wanted Cain grabbed onto him and came so hard he was seeing specks of light, head slamming into the wall as he panted and squirmed and blinked when he looked down at Glitch, who had his face buried against Cain’s neck and Cain got a good view of a hideous-looking scar that ran down his left side’s back, the only place Cain hadn’t seen in the tub or while he’d been in the towel or any other time.
He ran a hand down it, and Glitch shuddered hard against him, biting out a, “Don’t touch it.” The words were so fierce that Cain blinked, and Glitch was kissing him again, but it felt like a kiss with some sort of meaning, a familiar meaning-
Cain grabbed onto Glitch’s hips. “You’re not throwing me out. You are not throwing me out.”
The other man was still hard, but managing to glare and almost act like he wasn’t incredibly turned on, which astounded him. How good an actor was he?
How good a liar?
“Whatcha gonna do, Cain, shoot me?” Glitch hissed out, sitting on the edge of the tub again and ignoring the stunned look on Cain’s face. Glitch tossed him a towel. “Clean yourself up, go home, act like this never happened. Ask Jeb about his date. Live your little copper life and you can come over for some fun and find yourself a nice woman to marry and-”
“You’re not an idiot,” Cain said, using the towel and trying to ignore the fact he’d probably get hot and bothered every time he saw a towel after this. “Don’t act like one. I’m not one for flings, Glitch. I said I wouldn’t run, and I meant that.”
For a long time, Glitch’s chest still heaving, they stared at each other.
“Fine,” Glitch whispered, and got all the way out of the tub. He grabbed the penny off the floor and tossed it back to Cain, who barely managed to catch the thing. Glitch wasn’t looking at him, and the set of his shoulders told Cain that he didn’t like this at all. “Just remember you’re only getting deeper into this. A lot deeper.”
Cain simply nodded, pulling his pants back up and pausing as an idea popped into his head. “…speaking of being deep into things, mind helping me out of the tub?”
Glitch blinked, and then a horrified look came over his face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Cain,” he said, and immediately grabbed Cain’s outstretched arms, yanking him out of the tub. “You couldn’t even…” The horror only intensified, and the eyes that looked at him were dumbfounded, guilty brown. “Did you even want to? I had you trapped and-”
Cain kissed him again, earning a surprised noise from Glitch before Glitch was pressed against him, backing them into part of the bathroom wall. It left Cain wondering if he’d have brain damage if they kept this up, but didn’t really care. Sometimes things were worth a few bumps to the head.
---
Ambrose watched the still-sleeping form of Wyatt Cain. They’d eventually made it to the bed, and that was where Cain rested now. He’d slept too, of course, but there really was no rest for the wicked. The ticking of his coin had woken him up exactly four hours later, and now he was clean and dressed, wondering what the hell to do about this.
You decided he’d be a toy and an experiment. But he hadn’t known how good Cain really had been back there, had only known the man’s reputation, hadn’t had enough to make a good call.
The coin flip had landed on head. Killing him would have been problematic, letting him roam free would have been just as bad, it had been a good idea, all until Cain had decided to start thinking of him as Glitch and not just some guy with connections. Or, even more disturbingly, had seen Ambrose inside of his Glitch mask. He’d turned them into one person, not separating the lives like Ambrose had done for so long.
Head, he was Ambrose. Calculating, efficient, intelligent, loyal to a cutthroat, cold-blooded murdering level. He’d killed and he was more than willing to kill again for what he thought was important. Necessity had turned him into a crime lord.
The other side of the coin, he was Glitch. Friendly, playful, skilled, and best of all, free. Glitch could go everywhere Ambrose couldn’t, see everything that the Ambrose in him protested, waste time in ways Ambrose would cringe at.
Ambrose had been Glitch once upon a time, and he was starting to worry that Cain could flip the coin at times he needed to be Ambrose. Ambrose was necessity; Glitch was indulgence. Glitch was escapism. Glitch was him before all of this had started, before…well. Everything. He’d been Ambrose the watchmaker, Ambrose the mask-maker, not a crime lord or a criminal or, hell, even capable of self-defense, let alone defending anyone he loved.
Cain looked innocent and harmless in his sleep. Sometimes Ambrose wondered if he looked like that when he was asleep, or if that was when every mask fell off and anyone who walked in would see the monster of necessity inside him. Cops were dangerous, he was playing with fire, and no matter how crafty a fox he might be, he was sleeping with the hound on his heels now.
It keeps him in sight, he tried to convince himself, only to sigh, putting a hand over his own forehead. You fucking idiot, he’s going to break it all. He’s going to break you. You fucked around with your hunter and you don’t think he’s going to notice you’re the fox? That you’re the one he’s trying so hard to kill?
“Shut up,” he whispered to his own mind, and quietly slipped out the door of his bedroom, locking the door behind him and leaving a very Glitch-sounding and honest note.
‘Locked you in just in case someone bad comes around. Be back soon. PS Your watch is all fixed up.’
Ambrose was in his blacks, black shoes, black dress shirt, black suit with thin off-white pinstripes, and an off-white tie he’d barely bothered to tie. DG called it his ‘business suit,’ but they all had their version of no-nonsense tells. You didn’t mess with Raw when he had his fur coat on, or Zero with his leather coat on, or Azkadellia when her skirt trailed past the floor.
But for Ambrose to have put on his ‘business suit’, it usually meant he was ready to kill someone with his bare hands if he had to. That was a little different than the others’ tells.
He locked the door at the top of the stairs, and while he was walking down them he checked out the thin knives on him. It probably saved his life, all things considered, since it gave him time to hear the shuffling of someone on the other side of the stairway door.
Protect Cain, even if he’s going to ruin you.
“Nah, really?” Ambrose hissed almost silently at his head. “Thanks for stating the obvious, it helps so much.” He was still quiet enough to hear the ticking of his coin, hear the plodding footsteps of those outside the door. He didn’t recognize any of the footstep patterns. None of them were family, and when he opened the door just enough to look in at the people, he winced. Long coats on every one of them, all wearing hats and most holding guns of all shapes and sizes. Ambrose took a deep breath, barely restraining himself from smacking his head on the back of the door in aggravation.
He was wearing his own tell of ‘Do Not Mess With Me’, and he had idiots roaming around his shop just asking to get killed. There were much more productive ways to harness his mood, but he was stuck here, and probably going to end up-
Bullets riddled the wall inches from where he stood against the door, and his eyes opened wide as the familiar voice of an idiot began to sing. “Mask-maker, mask-maker, fill up my flask! Give me some booze! Make it a cask!”
Laughter echoed through the shop, and Ambrose snapped just a bit. The good part of him was still in bed with Cain. The bad part of him was more than happy to be right here. Things slowed down in his mind, the ticking of his coin stabilizing him, harnessing him, and without feeling anything other than necessity and determination, he pulled out four of his throwing knives and opened the door, walking straight out of the door at a comfortable clip and killing the three men in the back room. A knife to the eye, throat, and the stomach, respectively, and he smoothly moved under his work station, barely getting his suit dirty as he pulled out another throwing knife and put his stiletto in his belt. He could get the knives out of the dead men before disposing of them, after all.
“’Ey, come on now, shop man!” the same idiot shouted out, and Ambrose was grateful for the fact you could sleep through an earthquake in his bedroom, because he wanted Cain to figure out Antoine DeMilo was slime all on his own. “I just saw one of my men go down, I know you’re in here!”
“Very astute,” Ambrose muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.
Why haven’t you killed him yet?
“I am not debating that right now,” he hissed out, hearing the click of footsteps in the front of the store getting closer to where he crouched, the ticking of his watch, the…thud upstairs.
His head whipped towards the stairs. Cain was awake. Protect him, finish them quickly. He was naked up there, naked and bruised (in very nice ways) and would come walking down here unarmed and die after DeMilo realized his cover was up because Cain was a good cop.
Ambrose leaned back out and immediately let his feet glide over to the doorframe, sticking his head out to see more of the men in long coats watching the back room, and he barely avoided some more bullets being shot through him by sinking to the floor as a jumpy man tried to take out a piece of his arm.
The biggest difference between knives and guns, as Ambrose saw it in this day and age, was that with guns, you expected the weapon to do all the work. You just pointed, pulled the trigger, and waited for whatever you’d shot to die.
He pivoted, and the knife slammed into the man’s Adams apple, gun hitting one of the other men as he fell. He could hear DeMilo running out the front door, along with the rest of the men. Ambrose sighed, hearing the pounding on the top of the stairs’ door. So much for sleeping through an earthquake when it came to Wyatt Cain. But, first things first.
Ambrose picked up the phone, connected to Finaqua, and called in a cleaning crew. There wasn’t a speck of blood on Ambrose, but as soon as Cain saw the area, he’d know just about everything, including that his happy little Glitch also happened to be the man he was trying to kill. But first things first. He locked the door at the base of the stairs and started pulling his knives out of the men. Found himself shaking his head, too.
Why haven’t you killed him yet? Because of Cain? No, he’d let DeMilo live for much longer than he’d even really been aware of Cain’s existence. Then why? He did have a bit of respect for the authorities still, and it was one of his favorite things about Ahamo, but this…this wasn’t normal. DeMilo was a threat, he should have been dead a very long time ago.
You don’t want to kill anyone anymore.
“Shut up,” he muttered, the scar on his back burning just a bit. He’d dragged the last man behind the mask counter, and with a grim expression on his face, he grabbed the pitch-black mask inside the cash register, shutting the currency drawer with that ethereal ping noise that he never seemed to get tired of. Mask in one hand, he sighed and grabbed some rope in the other, putting it in a bag.
“Glitch!” was repeatedly coming through the locked door, and he could see Cain punching away at it through the bullet holes. Figuring they were pretty useful, he let his eyes wander straight into them and at Cain’s…
Ambrose blinked. “I thought you’d at least put some clothes on, Cain. Come on, beating doors down in nothing but your birthday suit? God, imagine the blisters – or even worse, splinters-”
“Glitch!” Cain was immediately at the wall, staring at him with concerned eyes. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”
“Oh, just the usual bad guy shakedown,” he said lightly. “Can I suggest you put on some clothes and get back home before, um.” Ambrose paused, not really certain how to say ‘before the cleaning crew shows up.’
Luckily Cain spoke first, eyes going dark. “Ambrose?”
“Foot soldiers,” Ambrose said instead, putting on a nervous smile that he wasn’t terribly sure was fake. “I’m, um. Kind of important to them, you know. And Gale.”
Cain shook his head. “Glitch, we both have to leave. After the raid, this will all be over. No more Ambrose-”
“No more Gale?” he interrupted lightly, and Cain gave him a face like he’d just hit him with a hammer. Ambrose sighed. “I’d like to be done with all this, Cain, I really, really do. I’m so tired of it all, of all these little problems that become big ones and these questions and…it’s exhausting. It’s like I’m a workhorse forced to pick the way back home in a rainstorm, but I’m a brand new horse who’s never been there.”
“You have a home, Glitch.” Cain frowned. “And it has bullet holes in it now. Ever heard the phrase ‘home is where the heart is?’”
Cain wouldn’t understand it. There was a part of him screaming in aggravation at that, but it was true – Cain would never understand what could drive a man to becoming what he’d become. Cain had become an avenging angel. Ambrose had been avenging, sure, but hadn’t done it in any angelic sort of way. Cain shot you while looking you in the eye until the light in them faded, where Ambrose would just stab you at the base of your neck and walk away.
Ambrose stepped away from the bullet holes. “Cain, you need to either go upstairs and hide there for a few hours, or step out right now.”
Cain immediately bashed the door open, heading straight for Ambrose until he froze, finally seeing the mask in his hands. Ambrose smiled sadly, seeing some of the foot soldiers were already coming through the front door and waiting by the mask counter for instructions. Ambrose had to have the mask on if he spoke with them, either that or act like a gibbering mess, and he wasn’t in the mood to play damsel in distress.
“You’re Ambrose,” Cain whispered, and it sounded like his heart had just shattered.
He looked away. “And Glitch. Ambrose is just my work face, really-”
“Your work face? Glit-Ambrose, you have a shop, why do you say that is your work face…oh God, you’re Ambrose.”
It hurt, hearing the venom and disgust and horror in his proper name. “Yes Cain, I’m Ambrose. In fact, I just killed four people who would have killed us if I hadn’t gotten them first.” He could hear his coin ticking away in his pocket, hear the muttering of the foot soldiers, hear the sharp, pained breathing coming from Cain. “But I’m also Glitch.”
Cain’s jaw set itself into a firm glare, and Ambrose barely managed to dodge the punch, catching the next fist in his own hand, glaring. “Cain, I don’t want to hurt-”
He didn’t even see the second punch, and Cain was one mean son of a bitch because he’d gone straight for the scar. It left Ambrose falling to the ground, panting as his side burned. He heard someone running through the back door, a gait he knew, a dangerous one. Protect him.
Ambrose barely managed to slide the mask onto his face, trying to ignore the way it felt like he’d been sliced open all over again. He took a deep breath. “Cain-”
The other man kicked him hard in the gut. Ambrose hissed, falling onto his back, and if he didn’t know better, Ambrose would have said Cain looked close to crying. “Two days and you…you managed to-”
“Run,” Ambrose panted out, the footsteps getting closer. “Go upstairs, hide, go out the fire escape-”
But it was too late.
“What the fuck?!” A gun’s hammer was pulled back, and Ambrose held out a hand in the universal sign for stop, brown eyes staring Zero down until the man put his own hands up.
Ambrose slid the bag to Zero and Azkadellia. “Back room. Take him and go.”
“Where’s Jeb?” Cain hissed out at Ambrose.
“You really think you’re in a position to make demands?” Zero shouted out, grabbing the bag. Azkadellia grabbed the rope, which earned a shudder from Zero.
“Excuse me, but do you want me to put any clothing on him?” Azkadellia asked, proper and just as strict as Zero’s posture got when they noticed the outfit.
“Tie him up naked. Bag him naked.” He looked away. “Then grab any blanket you can find and wrap him nice and warmly.”
She nodded, and started tying while Zero fetched blankets. Cain’s eyes never moved from Ambrose’s.
“Where’s Jeb.”
Azkadellia turned to look him in the face. “Golden boy? Last I saw, he and DG were taking a walk in the park, actually.” She smiled slightly at him. “He’s practically family already.”
The hit-with-a-hammer look was back, and Ambrose finally managed to get off the floor, still hissing at the burning pain on his back and instinctively holding it. He could only look at Cain for a minute at most before something horrible and filthy crawled up inside him and started to burn just as hard as his scar.
He finally walked out into the front room, where Raw had showed up too. He couldn’t blame them – it was rare for Ambrose to need any help with the shop. You did the best you could.
“Still wasn’t good enough,” Ambrose sighed to himself, putting a hand to his hair and letting it fall.
“This them?” Raw asked, looking just as sympathetic and painfully understanding as he always did when Ambrose was around. It was disturbing how well Raw could understand him – or anyone, for that matter.
But first things were always, always first. The coin was head up, after all, and Ambrose’s hand snuck into his pocket, grabbing the coin and feeling his own pulse mix with the ticking inside of the glass. “That’s them.”
Raw nodded. “Any specific plan?”
He pulled out the coin. Logic was to get rid of them quietly, but emotions and soul and conscience…he flung it into the air, caught it, and checked.
Not heads. He smirked a bit at his friend. “Oh yes. A very specific plan, in fact.”
---
When dawn finally hit the windows of the empty police station, DeMilo was genuinely confused at the fact it was empty. There were people milling about the front whispering to each other, along with a woman that looked like she’d fainted and been propped up on the stairs.
“What’s going on?” he demanded from the first person who he could see, and their eyes widened, backing down the stairs to the group below. Whispers immediately started up, and that was enough. DeMilo pulled out his keys, only to realize he didn’t need them when the door simply swung open. Frowning, he stepped inside, and stared.
Four of the wooden chairs used for a sort of waiting room in the lobby were lined up, each inhabited by a man with their badge pinned to the long coats that were so familiar, knife wounds on each of them. They all had blank faces, their hands set neatly on their thighs as if they were waiting for their number to be called.
One nickel rested on each eye.
There was a cask of something undeniably alcoholic next to them, and DeMilo stared at the words painted on it.
As requested last night.
-A
That was also when he noticed the notes under each hand.
This Death Was
Courtesy Of
Antoine DeMilo
The keys fell to the ground, and DeMilo screamed as the final piece showed at their feet, an omen darker than any other he’d ever seen. It was a death sentence that sent the man running for the bathroom, and he started vomiting, the word that could be nothing but a death sentence when dealing with a man like Ambrose.
---
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 06:45 am (UTC)Also, I'd like to let you know that this may be the first Tin Man-related fic I've read in over a week. :<
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 06:57 am (UTC)EDIT By which I mean I'd like to know what's confusing so I could possibly fix it or explain.
Life sucks right now. Sorry.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:40 pm (UTC)I HOPE YOU GOT SLEEP? ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:42 pm (UTC)although I have yet to decide if it'll be happy or not!My heart, um. Sings in joy for your own happiness? XD
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 12:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:44 pm (UTC)And Two-Face was always one of my favorites. Especially since he ends up as Three-Face in the end. ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 12:47 pm (UTC)I loooove it.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:46 pm (UTC)Cain is a mess and still freaking out a bit that he'd only known Glitch/Ambrose for two or three days and all this happened.
*goes back to AO! now. ♥*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:48 pm (UTC)There's also an interview meme up for TR. In which I have decided that Adora once made Cain wear her shoes.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:56 pm (UTC)and that it's Glitch/Cain but nobody's surprised by that.And of course he looked fabulous! Glitch would like to point out that Cain is Cain, because Glitch is kind of weird.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:57 pm (UTC)And you know, everyone helps, but Glitch is primary caretaker.
WHEE. And Ten?(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 08:06 pm (UTC)Glitch loev little kids. A lot.
Ten's there! So's Donna, and I might be yanking Rose in there SPOILER SPOILER GOES HERE for completely logical and plotty reasons. The Doctor Who part is gen. And full of running, of course. ♥(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 08:12 pm (UTC)It's kind of adorable. And then there's a Brosey twist.
YAAAAAAAY WHO AND TIN MAN!(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 10:27 pm (UTC)Also I'm seriously considering doing The Item pretty soon, since I'm impatient and I'd rather not wait until you come back from your Vacation of Awesome.
Oh lord, it's turning hillarious despite the horrible situation. *HEADDESK*(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 11:23 pm (UTC)YAY ITEM. I would also rather it sooner than later.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 02:16 pm (UTC)- CAIN! You clever clever bastard, you are so screwed on so many levels ♥
- Oh Jebby *ruffles him*
- Y'know, no matter how many times I see it or how much I KNOW it's coming the whole "Glitch is Ambrose!?
Ben is Glory?!" thing kills me every time.- Want Amrbose backstory nao plzkthnx *wub the poor woobie insane merciless psycho*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:49 pm (UTC)- So, so screwed. I'm quite possibly a sadist for how happy that makes me.
- JEBBY HAS A PURPOSE! \o/
- *pets both you and Cain* It leads to kinky porn at least? ♥
AND THE NIGHTLY GENDERSWITCH THING FREAKED ME OUT, CHRIST.- You'll geeet it. And again, I really am wondering if I'm a sadist...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:29 pm (UTC)Then, OMG! I thought I loved this fic before but OMG, this is amazingly awesome! I'm am utterly captivated by this story. I am dying to see how you're going to continue it, not that I'm not loving the image of Cain, naked and tied up! That makes me happy right down to my perverted little toes XD.
So, take it easy hon, except for working your pretty little ass off on this, of course.
(Only if you want to ....)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 07:52 pm (UTC)And Cain shall remain naked and tied up for a considerable amount of time! It leads to kinky porn, even! \o/
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 08:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-13 10:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-15 12:55 am (UTC)AND YAY FOR SOMETHING REALLY GOOD! So good it can't even be named. Thaank you! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-14 05:32 am (UTC)Poor Cain, finding out he supposed to kill his boyfriend, then being hogtied naked (Although that part may not be so bad, A-wink), loosing his son to a girl, not realizing he's really screwed. He's not having a very good day.
This does raise the question Who was Glitch blocking them from back in Chapter one though. A mirror? A body double? Mouse in an Ambrose wig?
YAY for an update and Can't wait to read more!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-14 03:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-15 12:57 am (UTC)And man, Cain's day really did suck, didn't it? XD
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-14 07:21 pm (UTC)Why is Jeb so dumb? Also, I clearly need to go read the first bit and try to figure out what's going on.
And I'm glad bathtubrapist!Ambrose got less rapey.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-15 01:01 am (UTC)Jeb is very, very dumb, isn't he. But if I was as bored out of my mind as him, hell, I'd join up with a crime lord too if it gave me something to do.
DID YOU NOTICE HOW THE SMUT CUTS OFF? Yeah. That was how I got him to no longer be a bathtub-rapist
and also managed to fit this part in one post.(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-15 12:58 am (UTC)But when I blew off studying for finals to actually get on and check, I saw this, and lemme tell you my first thought was "OMNOMNOMNOM U:"
YES. Porn and war and glass are JUST what I need to feel better about failing my advanced placement chemistry exam. YOU MAKE MY POTENTIALLY MISERABLE DAY BETTER BECAUSE I AM A FILTHY LITTLE PERVERT.
Aaaaand what a twist. I was all "...wut?" when I found out they were technically the same person. D: Then after a little thinking (which is hard kthx) I then said "ooooh lolz."
♥ And allow me to toot my own horn and say that the icon works PERFECTLY WITH THIS STORY. :B
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-15 01:10 am (UTC)...*headpat, because your brain needs it.*
Also I use this icon waaay too much. It's my "Alan Cumming Is Hot" icon! ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-15 02:08 am (UTC)Oh My Freaking God!
I bow down before you.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-01 05:24 am (UTC)This is wonderful. The dictotomy of Glitch and Ambrose is breathtaking. More soon please!!!
Love ya