Let Me Save You ~ Part I
A/N: Been feeling badly, and when I feel bad I can’t write anything but sad horrible things happening to my favorite characters. This is a story inspired by a prompt given to me several months ago by littletechiebird, regarding what would have happened if Teddy and Billy hadn’t been rescued from the Cube.
Warnings: Imprisonment, torture, and experimentation
Title inspired by this.
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Let Me Save You
Part I
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His body is throbbing with pain, hot and pulsating over every inch of his skin like the steady beating of a drum.
“Iwanthimto- heal, I- w-wanthimtoheal …”
Billy is crying, soft keening whispers of desperate pleas- spells that refuse to work.
“Please, p-please Iwant h-himtoheal . . .”
His eyelids feel like iron weights over his eyes, and it is an effort just to twitch his brow.
“T-Teddy?”
The hope in Billy’s voice strangles him, floods him with cold guilt, at its heels a burning rage at those responsible.
“Oh God, Teddy …”
A trembling hand grasps one of his own. It feels odd, like his hand is melting around Billy’s grasp as soft as putty.
“T-Teddy, c-can you hear me?” Billy squeezes and the feeling intensifies.
Because it is putty. He lurches with a startled groan and regrets it instantly when his body seizes with pain so intense he nearly blacks out again. Billy’s voice cracks on his name several times before falling back on his panicked chanting.
“I w-wantTeddy to be o-okay, beokay,beokay,beokay-”
It takes several minutes of panting harshly through the worst of the agony before he can wrestle his eyes open, strange spots of color around the edges, as if he’s been staring at the sun too long.
“Bilsh …”
It’s hard to form words when his gums don’t feel like they are lined correctly with his teeth, when his lips seemed to have slid nearly off his face. Every time he tries to pull himself back together, to shape himself into a better semblance of humanity, the pain threatens to overwhelm him.
“B-Bilsh . . .”
Fear paralyzes him in a way it never has in his short life.
Will they ever get out of this place? Will he ever be able to shift again? Will the boy on the other side of the cell bars turn away repulsed at his weakness, at his dilapidated form oozing over the cold concrete floor?
“I’m here, Teddy.”
Billy’s hand trembles with emotion, but not hesitation as he grips the mushy slippery mess that only barely resembles a human limb. He pulls it between the bars to a flushed face, wet with tears and warm with fever, pressing it close for a long moment before kissing his putty hand.
“I’m right here,” Billy’s breath hitches, “Stay with me, okay? Please? Please,please,please …”
He can’t hope to stop the tears from spilling down his face. Teddy struggles to nod but has to settle for an affirmative hum instead. Billy’s fingers wrap gently around his hand, rubbing his cheek softly against the shapeless skin, biting his lip to quiet his own hitching breathes of relief.
Teddy’s gaze slides to the devices planted in small ears crusted with dried blood, keeping Billy deaf to his own voice, segregated from his own power. It doesn’t stop him from chanting nervous pleas even knowing the effort is futile.
Pulling in a deep breath, Teddy concentrates hard on the limb in Billy’s grasp. He shudders involuntarily at the scream of anguished nerve endings, but somehow he manages to solidify his hand enough to squeeze back and hold on tight, pain be damned.
“Nosh leafin’, Bee …”
Billy’s broken smile tears at his heart, but the sobs that rip from his shaking form as he clings to their joined hands trample it. Teddy does his best to squeeze harder, the only comfort he can manage.
They both flinch at the ding of the cell block door, the heavy metal groaning as it glides open to allow a heavy set of boots to clop down the hallway until the stop in front of Billy’s cell.
“C’mon mutie. You got an appointment with the Doc.”
Teddy groans, panting and shaking as he tries desperately to get his limbs to function, to shape themselves, to do anything but be useless piles of clay. Billy holds on tighter, free hand wrapping around the cell bars, refusing to meet their retainers’ cold gazes.
The cell door buzzes open, one surly guard strolling just inside with arms crossed in annoyance.
“I dun like repeating myself,” his baton cracks across the the young mutant’s back, “Get up.”
Billy bites his lip to quiet his pained cry but refuses to move, refuses to let go.
“Stupid little shit-”
The implants in his ears suddenly sear agony through his head when the guard’s thick fingers grip him behind the neck and squeeze cruelly at the pressure points just behind his jaw. Billy fails to remember how to breathe, let alone how to keep his grip on the bars- his grip on Teddy- as he is pulled away and thrown as easily as a ragdoll into the other guard’s waiting arms.
“B-Bee-”
Gravity becomes as his enemy, Teddy cannot seem to distinguish up from down so his body rolls uselessly across the cell floor instead of standing to fight as he desperately desires.
“Bee!”
Billy wrestles against his captors, but his balance is shot and all he can manage is one last panicked look at Teddy as he is shoved out the door.
“Ted-”
The door slams shut before he can even finish the last syllable, leaving the first to echo off the walls in chorus with the bitter roar that chokes out of his throat. He would rip the place apart, tear their captors in half, break down these wall and get them out- if he could only just move …
But the ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes,’ and ‘could haves’ stopped being of any consolation weeks ago.
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Next~ Part II
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