Return Ticket To Stockholm
Stockholm Is Pretty Far, But You Get There Eventually
On the subject of reviews: I have actually seen more than one story I really liked have very, very few reviews (most tragic example of this was Burning Down Cye's House by cinder1013) whereas some downright drivel gets page upon page of squeeing drivel in return, so I kind of... never expected a flood of fans for a story that doesn't even have True Love and Soulmates in it.
The truth is that my goal was to have more reviews than chapters, and I'm currently at twice that (whee!), and I'm really happy with -and grateful for- the reviews I've gotten. Every single one of them has been useful and encouraging feedback, and most of them are a full paragraph. I'm completely happy and don't feel deprived at all. It is duly noted and appreciated, though, that you guys seem to think my story deserves more than that. That makes me warm and fuzzy, too. This wasn't filed as slash because the drop-down menu wasn't working, but, newly encouraged, I tried again and found a way around it and now it is. The summary, though; you guys know that's the hardest part of writing, right?!?! So I changed it, even included a trigger warning I'd been thinking it should have, and it may have come out a little goofier than the story really is, but SUMMARIES ARE HARD. DON'T JUDGE. -.- Oh, and: panic attacks don't kill. That's the devilry in a panic disorder, that people really really think they are dying and even when they're not having an attack they think they might have a heart disease, and nothing you could possibly say will alleviate their doubts (I've tried), but unless you have a pre-existing heart condition it will not kill you. So Brennan's little HQ is safe, I guess. ;PAs to the current chapter: I try to write 4500 to 5000 words each, but this time I just kept writing and writing and then I made the 6000 word mark and there was no end in sight to what all I still had to say- so instead of posting a massive giant chapter a week or two from now, I decided to split it and post a slightly shorter chapter now and another one, well, sometime soon. Sound like a plan? It juuuust barely got over 4000 words, actually, so I'm not that far off my goal.
Hope you like.
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Stockholm Is Pretty Far, But You Get There Eventually
"Tha's where they parked ya."
Ryo had expected anything, but not that. Not Blainn's slightly scratchy voice, and certainly not Blainn acting like his normal self. And what did that mean, 'parked'? He looked up to see the guy standing over him with a inquisitive look on his face, watching him, probably seeing more than Ryo wanted him to. Whatever he was, the guy wasn't stupid; sometimes it felt like he was looking right through Ryo to his very bones.
Sitting down as well, the redhead tried to get comfortable on the cold floor. "Shoulda brought a blanket or somethin'," he sighed, but he didn't seem overly bothered.
"I bet you've had worse," Ryo said just to say something.
"Ha, yeah. I used to sleep worse." The guy glanced over at him, huddled against the wall. "You look like shit."
"Headache." ...and nausea and a massive panic attack, and I thought I was going to die now and I'm confused as to what's happening.
"I'll get you somethin' when we get back." Leaning his head back against the wall, Blainn closed his eyes. He looked almost zen when he did that.
"What's going on?"
"Replacin' the camera in your room. It's dead."
Oh. That was all? But- "Why couldn't they put me somewhere else?" he grouched, trying to ease the headache with his cold hands.
"I figure," the redhead said and seemed annoyed by something, "this was the only room they din't have to clear out first. ...You thought this was it, din't you." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
"Can't blame ya."
"It's not, then." He voiced it as a statement, afraid, no, knowing that he would lose his composure if he allowed the doubt to shine through.
"Nah. Not tha' I know of."
So Brennan hadn't decided to dispose of him, apparently. The relief washing over him was welcome, but at the same time, in breaking the tension, it robbed him of the last bit of strength he'd though he had.
He couldn't wait to get back to his bed, couldn't believe he was going back to his bed, after he'd been so sure these white tiles were the last thing he would see. Brennan still wanted him around. Wasn't done with him.
Wasn't done having sex with him.
Even that didn't seem so bad. The man was nice enough about it; always made sure Ryo got his, too -he'd had genuine hookups who hadn't been as concerned with that-, didn't hurt him, always made sure they were alone.
The truth was that Ryo could think of a million things these people -and in the end, that meant Brennan- could have been doing to him but weren't. He wasn't tied to something in the dark somewhere, begging for water or for the beatings to end; nobody was shoving needles under his fingernails or breaking his kneecaps.
He had a room, a nice one; he had food and access to a shower and friendly enough company. So the price was that he had to sleep with Brennan... and he could think of people that were worse off.
"He's actually kind of decent, isn't he," he murmured.
He didn't understand the look Blainn was shooting his way. What could possibly have been offensive about that?
"...What?"
"Rye..." the guy seemed to want to say something, but changed his mind. Shaking his head, he remained silent.
"What? All I said was that Brennan isn't actually that bad. I could have it a lot worse."
"Fuck, Rye." Blainn rubbed his forehead in such a way that Ryo couldn't see his face clearly. "Fuck, I need a smoke."
He seemed to have said something wrong, that much was clear, but Ryo couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was. He'd just said what was obvious to him, that Brennan could have been inflicting a lot more misery on him than he was, but Blainn seemed... exasperated. Of all the possible reactions, this one surprised him.
"You're confused."
"You could say that," he scoffed.
"No, I mean- fuck it, Rye. Nevermind."
So, what, Blainn meant he was confused to think that in the first place? Was that it? But it was true. Sure, the way Brennan had kept hurting him the first few days just to hear him gasp, that had been a little strange- but it had stopped. After he'd given in and given the guy what he was actually going for, that had never happened again.
The man was in a position to just take what he wanted; he could have forced Ryo, could have raped him, but he hadn't. How was it 'confused' to think that was decent of him?
But Blainn seemed in no mood to talk, so Ryo didn't push it.
They didn't have to wait too much longer before the door opened and a Man In Suit stuck his head in, maybe the same one, maybe a different one. Ryo hadn't really faced them, earlier, and couldn't remember what they had looked like.
"Funny," the guy said in a derisive tone. "I could have sworn I only dropped one guy off."
Blainn responded with a sneer, even as he got up. "I turn up in the strangest places. Y'know, like love."
The man -apparently it was the same one- only scoffed and turned to leave, and Ryo, unsure what to make of the animosity he'd just witnessed, scrambled to follow him.
The room looked no different -hell, even the camera sphere looked no different- when Blainn let him back in and set off for painkillers, and yet somehow it did. It looked familiar, almost safe, where before it had seemed lifeless and threatening. Maybe it was because that other place had put it into perspective, or maybe because he was sure now that whatever and whenever his end would turn out to be, it wouldn't be here... not with that handy little slaughterhouse just down the hall.
You won't die in this room.
You never knew when and where fate was going to get you- except he did, at least the "where", or rather, the "where not": not here. There wasn't going to be a truck with failing brakes, no gas station robbery, no undetected fire; in an insane turn of events, this was probably the safest he had ever been. A fucking safe space.
He would have laughed, but his head was hurting too much.
Bed.
He thought of it as his bed, Ryo realized as he crawled under the blanket, and that was weird because it wasn't his and it would be here much longer than him- but it didn't matter. Right now it was his, and it was soft and welcoming and allowed him to stop trying to stay upright, and that was enough. Now if only Blainn would come back and end the throbbing pain in his head, so he could sleep...!
It was the gentle dipping of the mattress that woke him up, the slight moving of the blanket, and even sleepy and befuddled like this he didn't have to think twice about who that might be.
Shifting to make room, he thought it was strangely comforting to feel a body stretching out alongside his own, to hear the soft and steady breath behind him- strange, because this man meant his death but was so soothingly alive that he welcomed the visit.
The familiar tug came and this time Ryo gave in to it, let himself be rolled over- what did it matter? What was the difference? None. If the man wanted to do it this way, wanted to look at him or whatever this was about, then why the hell not? So he let Brennan roll him over, let Brennan slide on top of him and waited for the guy's hands to find their way under his clothes.
When they didn't, he opened his eyes after all.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Brennan, too, was still dressed, wearing something green- but the guy's clothes were forgotten in light of his face, so close, so inscrutable. As with Blainn, it was hard to tell how old the man really was- he looked to be mid-to late twenties, but there were subtle hints in his face that spoke of more years, more life than that; tiny lines around those light brown eyes. Those eyes that seemed to look at him and see, seemed to notice things he wasn't even aware of himself. Calm eyes, maybe not kind, but also not malicious. How could such a serene face hide a killer?
After a moment, Brennan offered an orange pill bottle containing a lonely tablet. "Blainn sends this."
Ryo nodded even as he noticed that his headache, although still there, seemed to have gotten better with sleep. He would take the pill, he thought, hide it away somewhere so he had one just in case, and give Blainn the empty thing back. You never knew when you might need a painkiller and they refused to give you one.
Just as he thought he might reach out and take it right out of Brennan's hand, the man dropped it on the floor, where it landed with a quiet rattle and seemed to roll under the bed. Hide it for me. That works.
"You look like Death himself."
Small wonder, after what happened today. Were you behind that? Was that supposed to teach me something, to break me, or are you unaware it even happened?
It didn't matter, none of it; reasons were just words and made no difference. All he wanted by this point was a merciful end, when the time came.
"Speaking of- When-" he couldn't say it, not even now. Not even exhausted and sleepy and spacing like this. "When-" ...nope. Ryo gave up, hoped that his meaning would be clear even if his words weren't, and tried for the part that actually mattered. "Make it quick," he whispered.
Brennan's face barely changed at first, only went from one kind of unreadable to a different one, but finally his expression eased and he nodded. "You'll never know, I promise," the man said quietly, almost gently, and Ryo didn't know if the strange tingle running through him was relief or final defeat. "No screaming agony for you."
As he closed his eyes again, nodding slightly, he felt amazingly calm; beaten but peaceful. You'll never know- that was all he'd asked for and all he cared to ask for at this point; no, more than that, even... it was a promise that it would come as a surprise. Everyday stuff, and then darkness. Over.
Of course, he would have liked to measure the rest of his time in decades, not days -weeks on the outside-, but if that wasn't to be, then this... every cancer death was worse than this.
You've given up, Ryo.
...Yes.
Here came the touch, hands sneaking under his shirt, warm and dry on his skin. It was a good touch- if he separated it from everything else and took it for what it was, it seemed neither oppressive nor threatening, meant him no harm. Here, now, he was safe.
It seemed only natural that he cooperated when Brennan tried to pull his shirt off, that he arched his back and lifted his head to make that possible; not even the fingers in his hair, pulling his head backwards, seemed scary now. They were insistent, yes, demanded compliance- but they seemed to promise kindness in return.
Belly up and throat bared, he thought as Brennan leaned in to nip at his skin. Submitting to the alpha wolf. At least this one is unlikely to rip your throat out with his teeth.
Lips and teeth worked their way down his chest, across his stomach, until he thought the guy was going to blow him -and he wasn't sure what he thought of that, but didn't figure his thoughts mattered much-... but when deft fingers undid his jeans, it was only to pull them off.
He didn't want to see how naked he was, didn't want to see the man kneeling between his legs and taking his own clothes off- the touch was good, yes... but he could only separate it like that if he didn't look, if he didn't see the room or the camera or Brennan or... or anything.
He almost wished for a blindfold.
The expert tongue licking up his shaft literally jerked him out of his thoughts, made his hips jump, made him gasp. Made him moan a little when it reached the tip and flicked across it. Oh, fuck...!
Now he knew what he thought of it:
It was meant to turn him on though, not get him off; was -as weird as that seemed- foreplay, and never came close to being enough until he honestly considered asking. Asking for a proper blow job, asking to be fucked, asking for any release at all, because nothing mattered anymore and he could ask whatever he wanted- he'd given up, accepted that his life was in someone else's hands, and now he came to find there was freedom in that.
But then Brennan was over him, grabbed his hips, and Ryo didn't have to ask. The transition from only one finger straight to a dick was noticeable and aggressive, and it was all he could do not to clutch at Brennan and whimper as he fell apart- to have found someone who could toe the fine line between pleasure and pain without crossing it...! So he'd thought it was cruelly ironic that Brennan had turned out to be good in bed, but maybe he had that backwards, maybe Fate had a footnote in the plan for his life that read 'will die young. Make it good'. Maybe this was meant to be the last hurrah in an otherwise pretty uneventful life.
Even as he panted, his idle fingers grabbing at the sheets, he spared half a thought for the memory of the guy's mouth on him, for how much promise that had held, and hoped that Brennan would follow through with it just once before he was sick of him. Or more than once, gladly more of that dextrous tongue that had been poking and prodding him one moment and gone flat and wide the n-
Encouraged by Brennan's hand he came, bit the back of his own as he shuddered and twitched, and came to just in time to witness the guy finding his own release- noticed the face buried in his neck, felt the ragged bursts of breath hot on his skin, and even though he thought he should find it awkward and weird, he didn't. It just was what it was.
As wolves go, he thought while Brennan stilled and fought to catch his breath, this one seems pretty civilized.
White tiles. He hadn't thought of that, had even forgotten about the other room for a while -funny how sex could do that-, but his little bathroom brought the memory back clear as day. It was different, Ryo insisted even as his heart started thumping; the tiles only went halfway up the wall, there were large and colorful towels and above all else, even if it was white top to bottom, this was a bathroom. It had a sink, cabinets, a shower. A toilet. It served no sinister purpose, it didn't, it didn't, please don't freak.
Help. There was help in the cabinet, or at least he hoped it still was, it had to be. He just had to take it.
With the faucet running for diversion, Ryo worked up the nerve to go looking for it, to try to root through Blainn's toiletries without mixing things up- and found it. Still there, still nearly full. Just a few drops, in the palm of his hand- this wasn't an attack, not yet; and he couldn't afford to appear drugged either or they would be on to him. Just a few. Maybe one more.
He suckled on his palm until all traces of the bitter taste were gone while he tried his best to put everything back as he'd found it; cleaned himself off and tried to ignore the walls that kept wanting to close in on him as they spoke of the worst moment of his life so far. There, done; get the hell out of here so it won't get to you before the benzo can...!
As he opened the bathroom door, the sight of Brennan stopped him dead in his tracks. Somehow he'd thought the man would be gone by now, would have gotten up and left like he always did, but there he was with his back to Ryo, hands in his pockets, looking out the window. Technically it was pretty common to hang around for a moment after you got laid, it was only polite, but just how much around here was normal by Ryo's standards?
The sex, he realized. The sex was getting to be more and more 'normal', less and less about... about using him. It seemed like the less he fought it, the less he resisted and resented, the more dignity Brennan was willing to leave him- seemed like if he allowed it, the sex would be the real thing.
On some level, he wanted that.
"I wish it wasn't like this," he said, caught off-guard by the honest pang of regret he felt.
"Yeah, well," Brennan's response was surprisingly quiet as he continued to look out, "things don't always turn out the way we want."
There was nothing to say to that.
Both of them were brought out of their contemplative mood by a sharp and sudden knock on the door, which upset Ryo because it had never happened before. What, who, why? Even Brennan seemed a little surprised, but when he called out to enter, it was just Blainn who slipped through the door.
Except... that didn't seem right, either. The guy had never been in such a rush to get back that he had tried to come in before Brennan had left, had never been this insistent. Had never stared at him like that.
"Boss," the redhead said, tearing his eyes away from Ryo. "Shawn's back. He says he has proof."
Why were both of them staring at him now? He didn't like this, didn't like the way everything suggested this was about him. Proof? What part of his inconsequential life, of his past, of anything, could possibly be of interest to them- much less demand proof? Thank fuck he'd taken some of the medication- all he had to do was hang in there until it kicked in.
As Brennan left, Ryo turned his attention to the redhead, who had climbed up on the windowsill and tried his best to look innocent.
"Proof of what?"
"Jeez, Rye," Blainn sighed, dropping his act immediately, "you hones'ly think I'm gonna tell you shit?"
"But this is about me, isn't it."
"I bet you were the smartest kid in middle school, an' your momma was proud."
"Yeah, ha ha. What's going on?"
"Look. Rye." the redhead said in that tone of voice that meant he was not going to say anything else, "you were in strange places at strange times. You saw things, the boss needs to know things. Tha's how it goes."
Ryo had learned to know when he could get the guy to talk, and when it was pointless. Now was Pointless Time, so he just laid back on the bed, not caring if he looked like he'd just had sex. Yeah, there had been a time when he'd cared about appearances, when he hadn't wanted anyone to know what was going on in this room... but Blainn knew anyway, was sent away on a regular basis, so what difference did it make?
He thought that a lot, he realized- what difference does it make. That was because everything he'd ever deemed important, everything he had found private or embarrassing or humiliating, had turned out to be completely irrelevant to anything at all. A luxury to have nothing worse to worry about.
Blainn's choice of words seemed a little odd -that back road was hardly a 'strange place', was it- but Ryo had to admit that he had just popped up and surprised everybody, including himself. He couldn't quite understand what sort of things Brennan needed to know, maybe if there had been someone else? But then, why would he go and get proof elsewhere, especially if getting proof took weeks, if he could just ask Ryo and make him talk?
Not that he was sorry he'd missed out on the inquisition. It just seemed... well, he couldn't make sense of it. Again. What else was new?
Nothing made sense. Nothing. Not the fact that he was still alive, after all this time, nor that Blainn was babysitting him the entire time even though there was nothing he could do if left alone -as evidenced by the fact that he had been alone quite a few times recently, for hours at a time-, nor the way they kept him in limbo, never threatening, never promising. Not to mention the massive discrepancy between Brennan's original advances and what he actually seemed to want. Or the weird way the man acted as if it was consensual sex when everything about it said that it wasn't. What a massive, confusing clusterfuck- and it would continue to be one, get worse even, and then he would die. Without answers.
There was only one thing in the whole mess, one measly tiny thing from the very first night, that made any sense at all.
"He had no choice, did he," Ryo said, half to himself.
"Who what?"
"Well, as you said... I saw things. He couldn't just let me walk away from that."
Cheerfully, Blainn nodded his agreement. "Yeah. Tha's the problem with murders."
He thought about that. "I guess I would have done the same."
"No, you wouldn't've. You'da had an apartment an' worked at the gas station."
"I mean, in his situation," Ryo tried to clarify.
"You wouldn't've been in 'is situation."
Frustrated that Blainn seemed to insist on missing his point, he tried again. "I mean-"
"Have you heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"
Closing his eyes, he rolled over. "No." He hadn't, and he didn't care. If Blainn was trying to explain that Brennan had some sort of disorder, it was completely unnecessary- the man's behaviour could be explained using nothing but logic. Ryo didn't need this appeal to his sympathetic side.
Just as he thought he might doze off -and he had just had sex, and drugged himself, no shame in passing out- the voice from the window brought him to.
"Look." The guy sounded strangely concerned. "Don't go around bein' understanding. You oughta hate him. You oughta hate us both."
He could see the logic in hating Brennan, even if he couldn't seem to muster the feeling. But Blainn? "You've been nothing but nice to me, man. Why would I?"
"Cuz if he says to snap your neck, I will."
Yeah, about that... as weird as it was to hear it said, it was hardly news. And it was hard to hate someone based on what they might do, then he'd have to hate every living thing under the sun. Fear them, maybe, sure- but hate?
And he was alone. He couldn't afford to hate the only human contact he had.
"It doesn't work like that, you know," he grunted, feeling weird about this confession. "People sort of... want to trust someone. They need to."
"Yeah," the scratchy voice came back, quieter than usual. "Yeah, tha's the point."
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