Work Text:
"You know, you should really go talk to him."
Chris pulls his eyes away from the other side of the room, facing Leota, "Huh?"
She raised her eyebrows at him and motioned with her head, back to where he had been starin- looking, where he had been looking. "Vigilante. You've been gawking at him for the past five minutes. It's starting to get creepy."
He turned his attention back to Adrian, who was humming while he checked his guns. Ever since the end of Project Butterfly, he'd been working with them on missions (not fulltime, he was still a busboy for Fennel Fields) and was starting to warm up to the team. Well, in his own Adrian kind of way. He'd stopped wearing his mask in the base (though it went right back on a moment before he stepped outside), he'd starting coming out with them to bars, and as annoying and clueless as he could be, he was a serious badass asset to the team. The amount of times he had saved their asses out in the field? Chris was pretty sure he couldn't even count that high.
"What the fuck would I even need to talk to him about?"
Leota leveled him with an unimpressed look. "Dude, are you serious? You look at him the way he looks at you, all moony-eyed like he hung the stars. You know, the way I look at my wife."
Now that caught his attention. "I don't look at him like that..."
Sighing, Leota lifted her arms above her head to stretch and got up from her desk. "Look," she rounded the corner and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "all I'm saying is maybe you should realize that you don't see him as a sidekick anymore. Maybe, just maybe, you're starting to see him as something else. Just saying." And with that bit of information, she left Chris alone.
Starting to see Adrian as something else?
What else could he be?
It turns out, when they took out the cow and massacred the butterflies a couple months back, that hadn't been all of the butterflies.
Which is just really fucking great.
Apparently, some had been a couple states over working on building another bottling plant, and had just heard what happened to their ruler and their only food source. And they were pissed.
And, honestly? Let them be pissed. Chris felt pissed too, fucking pissed that he was still having to deal with this shit again. Why couldn't they be like the aliens in the movies - you kill a bunch and then you defeat their queen, or cow in this case, and then they were gone for good. Well, until the sequel, where you find out that you'd left an egg behind or something, and now they were coming back bigger and badder than before.
Okay, so maybe this was like the alien movies, but whatever.
No one else on the team seemed all that thrilled about it. Except Adrian. "Come on guys, it's just like the good ol' times!" He said, grinning from ear to ear.
"They don't exactly count as the 'good ol' times' if they happened not even a year ago." Economos corrected, looking like he was seriously regretting all of his choices that had led him here.
"Also, they weren't good; John broke his leg, Emilia was in the hospital for weeks, and you got shot to shit and you had to escape out the window of the hospital because they wouldn't discharge you," added Leota.
Chris frowned, yeah that had not been fun. He had been spending almost everyday there, making sure Emilia and Adrian were okay and were healing well. So imagine his surprise when he had finished visiting Harcourt and went to go find his other teammate, only to find his bed empty. Of course, Chris had freaked out, he had been there all day, how had Adrian slipped out without him noticing? Once he notified the staff on a missing patient, they pulled up the security camera footage, and watched as Adrian pulled his IV out and jumped out of a second story window.
With John and Leota's help, they had tracked down Adrian's apartment address and found him working a shift at Fennel Fields later that day. It wasn't that hard to find him in the small crowd there, he was covered in bruises and was very clearly favoring the side he hadn't been shot on. "I had to work." was the response he gave when they questioned why the fuck he hadn't just stayed at the hospital, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
It probably was to Adrian.
"Guys, can we please focus on taking care of these butterflies so we can get out of here?" Harcourt called from where she was loading her guns.
So they went in the new, half built bottling plant to kill these fuckers. The good news was there was definitely less of them than there was last time, the bad news was that when the butterflies were pissed and starving, they were even harder to get rid of. Chris had already emptied two handguns, and lost his sword to three butterflies he skewered together down the hall. He was just about to blow the brains out of a hardhat bitch with his shotgun when he heard an engine roar to life behind him.
Chris whipped around, hoping he wasn't about to come face to face with a butterfly operating a forklift. Instead he found Vigilante with a chainsaw he was pretty sure Harcourt had confiscated.
Adrian cackled manically, and began mowing down bitches. And Chris means really mowing them down. He was swinging the chainsaw wildly, yet still somehow carefully managing to avoid his and his teammates' limps. People's arms, legs, heads, and torsos were flying everywhere. It was kind of impressive. A butterfly tried to sneak up on him, but was stupid enough to scream before striking. Adrian just spun around, and swung his chainsaw up between the other's legs, slicing them from the dick and through the chest, ending at the skull.
Chris has got to admit, that was pretty hot.
Wait, what?
While he was busying watching Adrian, a pair of beefy arms found their way around Chris' neck and had begun to squeeze. "Fuck," he wheezed, trying to rip them away. The butterfly held tight, letting out guttural grunts through their clenched teeth.
"Peacemaker, flip them!" Vigilante called, running up to him.
He nodded. Planting his legs to try and keep his gravity centered, Chris moved his hands further up the butterflies arms. He shifted his weight, and quickly bent at the waist, throwing them over his shoulder and towards Vigilante. Adrian swung the chainsaw like a bat, striking the former construction worker in the ribs and cutting them clean through the middle.
Blood sprayed everywhere, covering them from head to toe.
Switching off his chainsaw, Adrian let out a giggle. He ripped of his mask with one hand and pumped it in the air, "Fuck yeah! Did you see that? Holy shit, that's coolest thing I've ever done! Hahaha!" He jumped up and down, laughing with glee.
Chris cracked a smile, his friend's excitement was pretty contagious. "Dude, that was cool as shit. You split him in half like it was nothing!"
"I got to use my chainsaw! I finally got to use my chainsaw!"
Chris wasn't sure what he was looking at.
Everyone was at the headquarters, it was a slow day. Mostly just paperwork having to be filled out and research being done on their next job. Adebayo was at her desk, taking down a report on the last mission they had gone on, but Chris could tell she was a little distracted with texting her wife, based on the soft smile she gave as she stared down at her phone. Economos was covering up their digital trail on his laptop, earbuds firmly in his ears (probably playing Hanoi Rocks) to block out the others talking. But it was Adrian and Harcourt that Chris was watching.
They were both sat at Emilia's desk, but neither one of them was doing work. Harcourt was leaned back in her chair, feet kicked up in Adrian's lap. He didn't seem to mind - in fact, he had a hand on her ankle and has tapping out a pattern with his thumb. They were talking about something, what that was Chris didn't know. But they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Emilia remarked something, something about Fleetwood Mac? There was a pause, then Adrian muttered under his breath. It must of been something funny, because they both burst out laughing, earning a dirty look from John. Apologizing, Harcourt playfully elbowed Adrian, who giggled.
A soft smile wormed its way onto Chris' face.
Even in death, his father couldn't just let him be.
All week Chris had been seeing Auggie everywhere, taunting him over every stupid fucking thing. The way he drove, the fact that he liked to wear t-shirts of his favorite bands, his friendship with Leota, how he cried when he thought about Keith, and one that has been coming up almost every time his brain conjured up his father, the topic of Vigilante.
Auggie hurled insults at him like he was still alive, and it still stung like it did when he had been alive.
Chris wasn't sure when he came over or how they got to this point, but at 3am on a Thursday, he and Adrian were sitting on the shitty floor of his shitty trailer while he cried like a fucking bitch.
Maybe his dad was right.
Adrian was trying his best to comfort him while he sobbed like a baby, awkwardly patting his shoulder and occasionally repeating "there, there" and "it's okay, I've got you." Chris knew he struggled with understanding other peoples' emotions and consoling them, and while Chris could never say it, he appreciated him trying more than the other man will ever know.
There was an icy dread in his stomach from his father, but a warm fluttering in his chest from his friend.
Dirty Dancing was a much longer movie than Chris remembered. But it was one of Adrian's favorite movies, so he didn't mind sucking it up for him.
It wasn't a bad movie, just long.
Adrian squirmed on the couch beside him, rubbing his hands up and down his jeans. He had been fidgeting and twitchy all afternoon, ever since he got to Chris' trailer from Fennel Fields. He hadn't given much of a response when he had asked what was wrong; "long day at work" was all he said, trying desperately to avoid eye contact. He kept rubbing the fabric of his jeans and playing with the zipper of his sweater.
Chris wasn't sure what he could do to make the other man feel better, so he tried a trick that had worked on almost every chick who got upset during a movie.
Faking a yawn, he stretched his arms and tried to sneakily rest one over Adrian's shoulders without him noticing. Chicks always ate this shit up, but Adrian just tensed up and started breathing faster.
"Can you please take your arm off my neck?"
"What?"
Rubbing his pant legs faster, Adrian stared a hole in the floor. "My neck, you're touching my neck. I don't, I don't like when my neck is touched. It freaks me out."
"Oh, yeah, sorry!" He took his arm away from his shoulders and neck, bring it back to rest at his side. "Is that better?"
Adrian quickly nodded his head, but kept up with the repetitive motion on his jeans. "Sorry, I can't help it. I've always had a problem with people touching my neck. Gut when we were younger," he laughed humorlessly to himself, "Gut used to sneak up behind me and just, like, cup the back of my neck. It always set me off, and he would laugh. He found it funny. I guess that's just how brothers are."
They sat in silence for a while, not really paying attention to the movie. Adrian was taking calming breaths and Chris just sat there, trying and failing to come up with something to remedy the situation. Adrian spoke up first.
"You can put your arm around my back if you want, though. I wouldn't mind that."
Chris nodded dumbly, "Yeah, okay." He took his arm from earlier and set it along Adrian's back, away from his neck. He almost melted into the touch.
Yeah, this feels right.
Chris' phone pinged from his nightstand. He pulled his shirt on and grabbed it, checking his notification from Emilia.
Harcourt: How is Eagly's wing doing?
A bit of an odd text for seven in the morning, but not an unwelcomed one. In fact, it made Chris smile.
Last week, they had gone on mission for capturing a mutant winged lizard-rabbit hybrid thing and returning it to the weird ass scientist who lost it in the first place. How do you even lose a lizard-rabbit creature? Lizbit? Rabzard? Creature from Chris' nightmares? Whatever you call it, it was a mean son of a bitch. Motherfucker was stealthy, too. It was able to blend into the forest background almost perfectly, they spent two hours trying to even find the thing.
Did Chris mention it breathed fire? Because it breathed fire.
Fuck that weird fucking scientist.
Anyway, Eagly came with them on the mission because, not to brag, but he is an excellent tracker. And of course, the thing must of smelled Eagly or something, and went straight for the eagle. They wrestled in the sky for a while before the bastard bit Eagly right on the wing. It took everything in Chris not to whip out his gun and shoot the rabzard back to hell where it came from. Judging by how Adrian and Harcourt reacted, they were on the same page as him.
Sadly, as Adebayo reminded them, they had to return it as unharmed as possible.
It took an additional two hours to capture the stupid thing. But that wasn't before it ripped out more of Eagly's feathers, ate one of Harcourt's guns, shot furry spikes from its tail at John and Leota, almost burned down every tree in a mile radius, and threw a fireball at Vigilante that hit him right in the small of his back, singed through his costume and scorched his skin. He had let out a yelp that sounded like a wounded animal, and Chris almost saw red.
So if Chris was a little rougher than necessary while shoving the rabzard into its cage and if he spent the entire meeting with the bitch ass scientist glaring the fucker down, could you blame him? That thing had tried to hurt his friends, and had successful wounded his eagle and his... Friend Adrian. Adrian was his friend.
Man, if looks could kill, that scientist would have been six feet under.
And now Emilia was checking in on Eagly, making sure that he was okay. Chris smiled to himself, he really appreciated that.
Speaking of Eagly, where was he?
"Eagly, where are you buddy? Harcourt wants to check in on you." A squawk came from the living room, followed by the gentle rustling of feathers.
Chris walked out of his room and into the living room, spotting the eagle standing on the countertop leading into the kitchen. Eagly chirped at him, carefully stretching his good wing and wiggling from talon to talon. He grinned, happy to see the other in good spirit. "Hey buddy, do you want to take a picture to sent to Harcourt? Show her that you're doing better?" He reached out and gently stroked the soft feathers on the top of his head.
The bird leaned into the pet, cooing. "Okay, strike a pose." Eagly spread his wings, the feathers on his left a little sparse but definitely looking better than they had a week ago. Chris took the picture and sent it to Emilia with an update text.
Chris: He's doing a lot better! Thank you for asking! He should be able to be join us in the field soon.
He wasn't expecting a response back so soon, or even one at all.
Harcourt: Chris?
Chris: Yeah?
Harcourt: Is that Adrian in his boxers in the background of that photo?
He did a double take on the text, then at the photo. Sure enough, in the background of the picture of Eagly was Adrian, shirtless and in his boxers, making himself a bowl of cereal.
Chris wasn't surprised that Adrian was here, he knew he was here. He invited him to spend the night. No, not like that! The two of them had been watching a movie last night and both had a bit too much to drink. And Chris didn't want Adrian driving, what kind of a friend would he be if he let him get into a car? So he picked the most logical option; he invited him to spend the night. On the couch. While Chris slept in his bed. A room away.
Like friends do.
Could he have called Adrian an Uber or a Lyft or a taxi, or something? Yeah, he probably could have. He had thought about it too. But something in his buzzed brain had told him it was better if he stayed the night. So Adrian did. He slept on the couch on his stomach, blanket pushed down to his legs so it wouldn't touch the tender burns trying to heal on his back.
His burns were pretty visible in the photo too, all red and angry looking. They looked better than before. Before, when they were in the van and Harcourt was driving them back to HG, John and Leota had to carefully remove Adrian's Vigilante top to look and see if they could treat it themselves or if they needed to take him to the hospital (Adrian begged them not to, his health care with Fennel Fields was not exactly stellar). It wasn't a pretty sight; freckled skin burnt to shit, red and raw, the smell of burning flesh wafting in the back of the van. Chris had felt sick.
What was worse than the sight and the smell, though, was the noises Adrian was making. He winced and whimpered while they tried to remove bits of stubborn material that had melted to his back. The guy was clearly in a lot of pain and trying desperately to keep it together, and he wasn't doing a very good job.
Without thinking, Chris had reached out and clutched the other's hand. This seemed to have caught them both off guard. Adrian looked up at him with his eyes blown wide, the redness of tears from pain made the green irises stand out even more than they all ready did. Chris tried not to think about it too much; the weight of the gloved hand in his as he rubbed circles in the back with his thumb, the weird feeling in his chest like it was warm and fuzzy but at the same time trying to cave in on itself. If he didn't think about it or mention it, it wasn't there.
Right?
And now Emilia was calling attention to it, when the topic they had been discussing had nothing to do with it. Which meant it was there, and other people saw it. Fuck. So, he shoved that funny feeling down as deep as it would go and, like with most things, shot her a text without thinking.
Chris: Yeah? So?
Chris: He spent the night last night, you gotta problem with that?
He knew he was coming off defensive and aggressive, but it's what he's best at. Can you blame him, his father had thought any emotion that wasn't anger and pride was for pussies.
"Hey! So," Adrian piped up from around a mouthful of cereal, "what's the plan today? You wanna go shoot stuff in the woods, or train, or look for people breaking the law?" He was leaned back against the countertop, completely unaware of Chris' weird shit he had going on today. To add to the already extensive list of things he was trying not to think about, Adrian looked really nice without his shirt or armor on. It wasn't like it was something he hadn't seen before, but he was having an off day and it was all he could focus on.
"Uhhhh..."
He cut off by Barbie Girl, not something he was expecting but okay. Adrian's phone vibrated on the couch, playing his choice of a ringtone. He pulled a face and stalked over to his phone, hesitantly picking it up and checking the caller ID. His eyes light up, "Hey, Emilia's calling me!" He paused and pulled a face again. "Why is she calling me?"
He was getting real sick of people getting the jump on them during missions and kidnapping them. Seriously, it was cliché and predictable, and annoying as fuck. Also, it kind of goes without saying, but incredibly painful.
Now Chris was sat, tied stiffly to a metal chair bolted to the floor - they had done their research on him - and participated in a staring contest with a wannabe B-grade villain. Not even a villain, a henchman who thought they had a big brain and even bigger dick.
At least Judomaster had been funny.
"Dude, seriously, I'm falling asleep over here. You gonna actually do something or are you just gonna keep eye-fucking me?" He complained, rolling his shoulders as best he could. Was it wise to taunt someone who had kidnapped you? Probably not. Was it fun? Are you kidding! If there was one thing Chris was good at, and he liked to think there was a lot, it was shit-talking and insulting people. He practically graduated top of his class when it came to it!
The henchman raised an eyebrow from where he was leaning against a floor-length blacked-out window, arms crossed, "Are you going to tell me where the DNA sample Amanda Waller keeps from Superman is?"
Rolling his eyes, "Okay, dickhead, we've been over this. First of all, I don't know. I didn't even know she had one. Second of all, I don't work for Waller anymore. You think she would tell someone who's at the top of her shit list where it is, if there even is a sample?" When he didn't react, Chris added, "Also, DNA from Superman? What kind of DNA are you even taking about? You think she jerked him off and put his alien jizz in a test-tube? I hear it glows in the dark."
"You sure you don't know?"
"Uh, yeah. I just said that."
Fisting a hand into his pocket, the guy smirked. It was an ugly smirk too, dude should really consider investing in some chapstick. Ugly pulled a small black remote from his pocket, holding it up like it was supposed to mean something to Chris. "Maybe this will help jog your memory."
He stepped closer to him and maintained eye contact as he pressed the main button on the remote. The black-out window he had been leaning against, it turns out, was not permanently blacked-out. The dark blinked away, revealing a similar room on the other side. Stark white with no outside light coming in, walls with large square designs, very stereotypical bad guy torture room. That didn't bother him though, he'd seen plenty of these in his life. No, what bothered Chris was what was in the center of the other room.
In a middle of the room, tied to a metal chair, was Adrian. Maskless.
Fuck.
He was squinting, trying to look around the room he was in without his visor or his glasses. As far as Chris could tell, he was unharmed, save for a bruise on his temple, slightly obscured by a dark curl.
"You know, that sidekick of yours was almost as hard to grab as you. Maybe if you two had stuck together, you wouldn't be here right now." Now it was the henchman's turn to taunt. But he no longer had Chris' focus, all of his attention was turned on Vigilante. He kept looking around the other room, at one point almost looking right at Chris, but it didn't seem like he could see what was happening in the room opposite him. Did he even know there was a room opposite to him? The window must have been some kind of two-way mirror.
Schooling his features, he turned his eyes back on the ugly bitch. If there was another thing he was good at, but had been trying to do less of recently, it was apathy, pretending he didn't care. Their kidnapper didn't need to know that a nervous chill was running down Chris' back at the thought of something happening to Adrian because of him.
Again.
"You really thought kidnapping two assholes Waller worked with, what? One time? Is going to get you this Superman jizz you're so desperate to get your hands on? Dude, if you want to suck the alien off so bad to get a taste, just say so. This is getting kind of embarrassing."
The henchman flushed and grit his teeth. "You talk a lotta shit for someone Amanda Waller would probably pay a lot of money to get her hands on. Or, trade a single DNA sample for. So, here's the deal; either you tell us where to find the sample and we let you both go, or we beat out of you and your stupid fucking sidekick. Then, we turn your bitch over to Amanda Waller, and let her decide what to do with him. You've been to Belle Reves, you know what it's like in there. And I'm sure she'd be more than happy to send him on a suicide mission. I hear they're shutting that program down soon, she'll want the last one to go out with a bang."
Adrian, with his impeccable timing, decided right then was the perfect time to pipe up, "Hello?"
His voice took the kidnapper's attention away from Chris. He grinned that ugly fucking grin and pressed the earpiece he was wearing. "Send in Rico."
The doors behind Vigilante swung open with a bang, making him jump. Craning his neck, he tried to look behind at the person approaching, "Peacemaker?"
Rico was one big motherfucker - at least 6"5 and 70 percent muscle, with meaty fists that looked like they packed a mean punch. He looked like they had genetically crossed Hulk Hogan with a bulldozer. Oh, this was not going to be fun. As Rico crossed into Adrian's line of sight, the much smaller man leaned forward as much as the rope keeping him to the chair would allow and squinted up at the brick wall of a man. "Hey, you're not Peacemaker."
"Anything you want to tell me before Rico turns your little friend into minced meat?"
"Yeah. Tell your buddy over there to chill out with the steroids, they shrink your dick." Chris quipped.
Ugly smirked, looking like he was hoping Chris would mouth-off. He brought his hand back up to the earpiece, "Start off slow Rico, we've got all day."
Rico nodded, his back to Chris and the other guy, and cracked his knuckles. Adrian cringed at the noise, then opened his mouth to say something. He was cut off by a solid punch to the cheek, knocking his head harshly to the side. He remained still for a second, disoriented, then gave his head a shake and flexed his jaw.
"Ow."
Rico hit him again, this time on his other cheek, then on his already bruised temple, and then in the stomach. Adrian doubled over against the rope around his chest, wheezing. Grimacing, Chris shifted in his own. It was getting hard to keep his features neutral, as to not let Ugly know how much this was killing him. With the henchman's back to him, he tugged on the rope holding his wrists to the metal chair. If he could just break loose, he could kick that ugly motherfucker's stupid fucking teeth in and murder the shit out of Bulldozer, and save Adrian. Not fail him like he did at Goff's.
"Tongue feeling any looser?"
"Fuck you."
Ugly gave him a fake sad look, "What, no witty quip? No sex jokes? No insults? This getting to you?" The fake frown shifted to a smug sneer. "You know," he tossed the little black remote from hand to hand, "this can all end. You can tell us about the DNA sample, and maybe your little boyfriend can get out of here not covered head to toe in bruises. My buddy Rico is pretty well-known for punching so hard he shatters bones."
A cold sweat went down Chris' neck. He could hear Rico's fist connecting with Adrian's skin, and the pained inhale of air. "You really want to drink Superman's little swimmers, don't you, you perverted little bit-"
"OW!"
Chris was cut of a sharp cry of pain, voice too deep to be Vigilante. He and the ugly henchman whipped their heads towards the glass; on the other side stood Rico cradling a bloody hand to his chest and Adrian spitting blood out of his mouth. The blood landed with a splat on the stark white floor, next to a severed finger.
Everyone stared at it in shock and awe - Adrian had bit off the guy's finger.
"Try jerking yourself off with a missing finger, bitch!" Adrian hissed, baring bloody teeth at the much bigger man looming over him.
Bulldozer's face contorted with pain and pure rage, "You motherfucker!" He gripped the other's left hand in his now four-fingered right one, and crushed Adrian's pinkie and ring fingers like they were nothing. The scream that came out of Adrian cut Chris right to his soul, his heart hurting along side his friend's destroyed hand. Rico wasn't done yet, oh no, because he grabbed the other man's wrist and bent it back farther than Chris had ever seen one go. Vigilante screamed again, pain-induced tears running down his face. His voice cracked from the strain of the screaming.
Chris yanked on the ropes all around him, both them and his chair stayed in place. "You fuckers! You fucking son of a bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill both of you! I will rip off both of your dicks and feed them to you!"
With a heated grunt, Rico stomped down and crushed Adrian's foot with his steel-toed boots - right on the foot that Goff had tried to remove a pinkie from. This time when Adrian yelled, no noise came out, his vocal cords shot. His head rested against his chest as he tried to catch his breath, shoulders heaving with the effort of his lungs trying to take in as much air as possible and struggling from all of his nerves going crazy.
"Leave him alone, you ugly dogshit cuck!"
The henchman looked at Chris, sensing that this was starting to spiral out of control. "Where is the DNA?"
"Fuck you!"
Finally fed up, Ugly decided it was Chris' turn. He began punching him in the face - not the hardest he had ever been hit, but the guy was wearing rings - and started talking, every word accentuated with a fist to Chris' face. "Where!" Punch! "Is!" Punch! "Superman's!" Punch! "DNA!" Punch! The rings cut his face with every hit, he could feel blood trickling down his nose, cheeks, basically everywhere.
"Have you ever checked up your ass!"
The guy stood there, chest heaving and fists ready to strike again. Chris' breathed harshly in tandem with him. They stared each other down, daring the other to say something. "Goddamnit!" Ugly cried in anger, and reached for his earpiece. "Rico!" He all but barked, "go get the heavy equipment! Let's speed this shit up!"
In the other room, Rico's lips curled in an ugly sneer at Adrian and he loomed over him. "I can't wait to take a knife to that stupid fucking face of yours. Hope you won't miss loosing a finger of your own, would you?"
Adrian stared up defiantly through a black eye at the much taller man, "Miss this!"
He grit his teeth as he took his leg without the crushed foot and swung upwards. His foot connected with Rico's crotch, and Chris was proud for about a second before shit started going downhill worse than it already had.
The rooms he and Adrian were in were identical, except for one thing; Chris' chair was bolted to the floor, Adrian's was very much not. All the force he had used to kick the guy in the dick sent his chair falling backwards. The chair hit the floor with a heavy thud! Adrian's head followed suit, his skull cackling against the white floor harshly. His head rolled to the side, and even from where Chris was sitting, he could tell that he was severely dazed.
Rico dropped to his knees, hands over his crotch. He stayed there, gasping, for a minute. Everyone in the two rooms went still, either for shock or pain.
Collecting himself, the human bulldozer lunged at the other man. His massive hands connected with Adrian's neck and squeezed. Adrian's eyes blew wide, both from having someone touch his neck and trying to crush it, and he began to wiggle, to get out of the crushing weight on the area that sent him into a freak out. All he could do was thrash and writhe to try and shake Rico off, but he held tight.
"Don't touch his neck! Don't touch his neck!" Chris screamed, jerking against his restraints.
The henchman was also screaming, "Rico! We need him alive, Rico!"
Suddenly, Ugly's head fucking exploded, a gunshot ringing out from behind Chris. Footsteps hurriedly shuffled over and John emerged into his field of vision, cutting away at the ropes around him with a swiss army knife. Emilia came into view too, shotgun clutched in her hands.
Rico's face shattered into gore and brain matter in the other room, Leota standing in the doorway with a gun of her own. She rushed over to Adrian and pushed the mass of a man off of him. He was hyperventilating, head flinging from side to side as he tried and failed to suck air down his bruised neck.
"Are you okay?" Emilia tried asking Chris, but his attention was on Adrian. Adrian, who was hurt because he wouldn't give up information, again. Who was stuck in fight or flight because someone touched the spot that set him off, because of Chris. It didn't matter that he didn't even have the information the two motherfuckers were looking for, his friend who never left his side and was always being put in these positions got hurt because of him.
"Don't worry about me, help him! Help Adrian!"
It wasn't his fault, but he could never forgive himself.
Chris' room was filled with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from Adrian's phone, accompanied by his soft wheezing breaths.
The kidnapping had been only a week ago, yet it was fresh on Chris' mind like it had happened yesterday. He wished Leota and Emilia hadn't of killed Ugly and Bulldozer so he could have done it himself, especially Bulldozer. Because of that fucker, Adrian sported bruised ribs, two broken fingers in a cast with his broken wrist on his left, a fractured foot on his right, a serious black eye, stitches from where his head hit the floor, and dark bruises in the shape of two large hands on his neck.
Chris' heart ached every time he saw the handprints, or when Adrian hobbled around his trailer, or he wheezed while he was just trying to breath.
Now the two of them laid in Chris' bed, sleeping. Well, Adrian was sleeping... Maybe. Honestly, he couldn't tell. Adrian's head was tucked up against Chris' neck, his cold nose pressed in between his shoulder and his collar bone. His arms were rapped around Chris, cast resting over the blanket they were sharing, while their legs were carefully tangled together to avoid hitting the boot he had to wear for the next six weeks. Chris rubbed soothing against the other's back.
"I can feel you staring," Adrian murmured into his neck, his voice vibrating against Chris' skin.
"Sorry."
He hummed, "Don't apologize."
"Okay."
They fell back into a comfortable silence again. That last all of a minute, before Chris' mouth started to moving faster than his brain. "I love you."
He could feel Adrian's eyelashes as he blinked. "I know."
Chris paused, "Did you just respond to me professing my love to you with a Star Wars quote?"
The other laughed, warm and bright. Chris felt butterflies in his stomach at the sound - no, not butterflies, he didn't want to think about those. Moths, yeah, moths in his stomach. He had always like those better anyway.
Yeah, he spent the rest of his life like this.