reflection | scömìche

chapter twenty

so unfortunately tomorrow i'm leaving for a residential camp and this will be the last update until i return sorry

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A few days passed and nothing happened, but Scott didn't let his guard down. John had told the rest of the soldiers that their general was a faggot and fucking Mitch, so the first day after their discovery was hell. Mitch was being beaten ruthlessly by five soldiers, and the rest were trying to attack Scott, but obviously he was able to fight them off. Eventually, though, when Scott heard Mitch's pained cries and his strangled sobs, he had had enough, and he put the soldiers in their place.

Every day, from the moment Scott woke up to the second he laid his head down on his pillow, he was tense and ready. It wasn't until five days after John discovered them did the time come. Scott had woken up to someone roughly shoving him out of bed and handcuffing his wrists in front of him. "Come on, faggot. You've got an appointment with the emperor," a rough voice commanded, and Scott suppressed a snarky comment as he got up and followed the man out of the tent.

The rest of the soldiers were already on the hill, training with some other general that the government had sent to replace him. Mitch was being held by two burly men, and he silently looked up at Scott with tears steaming down his cheeks. Scott longed to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but unfortunately, he knew he couldn't.

The man holding Scott was much more gentle as they made their way to the train tracks that the government had used to get the soldiers to the training field. Well, gentle really isn't the right word. He was trying to be rough, but Scott was much larger than Mitch and therefore heavier, so he couldn't tug Scott around as much. Scott didn't really understand why Mitch had two men pulling him while Scott had one, and he wished he had his hands free so he could beat the hell out of the men. They were being way rougher with Mitch than necessary, tugging him everywhere and kicking him in the back if his pace slowed even the slightest bit. Scott glared at them with all the hatred he could muster, but they just sneered back and pulled Mitch so hard he stumbled and fell. Mitch's tears fell faster as the men yanked on his rope violently to get him back to standing, a soft cry of pain leaving his lips. "Stop doing that," Scott growled finally, but that just earned him a hit up the back of his head.

When they made it to the train tracks, the two men holding Mitch spent the time they had to wait for the train by pushing him around, practically playing catch with his fragile body. Scott watched with darkening eyes, soft growls escaping his lips. His hands had already formed into fists, but it wasn't like they could do much tied together.

After around ten minutes, the train arrived. Mitch was forced to climb aboard first, his captors following behind, and Scott went next. He kept a close eye on the two men holding Mitch as they kicked him to the floor and sat in a seat, laughing. Mitch's tears flowed faster, but he didn't try to get up, curling in a ball and holding his knees to his chest as though they could protect him. Since Scott was a former general, their captors allowed him to sit in a seat, but Scott sat defiantly down by Mitch and glared at them coldly.

It wasn't even five minutes into the train ride when the men got bored and left to go to the dining car. Scott watched them to make sure they were gone before he relaxed and carefully maneuvered Mitch into the small space in between his chest and his bound arms. Mitch turned and buried his face in Scott's shoulder, sobbing softly. "What are we going to do, sir?" he whispered pathetically, holding onto Scott's shirt as best as he could. Scott sighed and shook his head, setting his chin on Mitch's head. "I don't know, angel. But everything will be okay. I won't let them hurt you." Mitch sniffled and leaned up to kiss his jaw. "If they kill me, or send me back home for my father to kill me, I just want you to know that I came into this training thinking I would hate every minute of it, but you made it more fun than I've ever had."

"I won't let them kill you, baby. They can do whatever they want to me, but I won't let them lay a hand on you."

Mitch looked up at Scott with eyes full of tears, worrying his bottom lip in his teeth. "Sir, I..." He trailed off, not having enough courage to say what he was going to. Instead, he allowed his eyes to slip closed and he leaned up to connect their lips. Scott kissed back with earnest, managing to flatten his hand on Mitch's back and pull him closer. Mitch crawled into Scott's lap and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, tears still flowing down his cheeks.

They spent most of the ride kissing. The men the government had sent to take them in didn't come back into the car until the moment they arrived, so they were never more than two centimeters apart. The part of the ride that they didn't spend kissing was passed by trying to get Mitch out of Scott's embrace, since they didn't want the men to come back and find them locked in a passionate make-out session. They knew they would just get into even deeper trouble.

"These stupid fucking handcuffs," Scott growled in frustration after the fifth time they prevented him from kissing Mitch, pulling harshly on them in a vain attempt to get them off. Mitch gently set his hands on Scott's wrists and rubbed soothing circles into the top of his arm, hushing him quietly. "It's okay, sir. I'm still here, and we still have a while before we have to go. We can kiss in a different position." Scott sighed and reached his fingers out to Mitch, managing to caress his arm. "But I want you to be underneath me one last time," he protested weakly. Mitch let out a weak giggle at his words and crawled into Scott's lap, draping his arms over Scott's neck and kissing him again.

When the men came back inside, they rolled their eyes at the sight of Scott and Mitch cuddling on the floor - even though they didn't want to risk kissing, Scott knew he needed some kind of contact with Mitch to reassure himself that he was okay. "Fucking fags," Scott's man muttered as he grabbed Scott's chain and yanked him up. Scott's eyes flashed, but he remained silent and watched the other two men as they jerked Mitch off the floor as well.

As they walked up the steps to the castle, Scott kept his gaze determinedly ahead, his eyes dark and ready. He would do whatever it took to keep Mitch safe, even if it meant his own life was in danger.