Intruality Is My Medicine [But So Is Chocolate]

•.•Hot and Cold•.•

Date: 12.5.20
Ship: Intruality
Type: Angst, slight gore
Words: 923

TW: Kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, abuse, suicide reference(?)

~•~

  "Please, just let me go," Patton whispered. Cold shackles had made his wrists raw over the days. The slightest movement risked them bleeding again, even with the thin bandages. Pain riddled his neck from his head hanging down, no longer having the strength look up. What was there to look at anyway?

  Remus paused, cocking his head in confusion. "Do you not like your pasta?" He asked. "But I made it just for you!" He said, insistently holding the heaped spoon to Patton's lips. "I didn't even put eyeballs in it this time just like you asked..." The pasta was just cold sludge at this point. Cold like everything else in this god forsaken place. Cold shackles, cold chains, cold concrete. Only Patton's legs folded awkwardly beneath him weren't cold, numb with pins and needles instead.

  Patton didn't want food. He just wanted out.

  He was so, so cold.

  "You have to eat something," Remus scolded. "At least a bite? C'mon, Patty."

  When Patton remained unresponsive, Remus forcefully pried his mouth open. He wedged his fingers between his teeth and shoved the pasta in. Then, he clamped a hand over his mouth (knowing he'd otherwise spit it out) and pinched his nose closed until Patton was forced to swallow. All the while Patton thrashed.

  "See?" Remus grinned, as soon as he pulled his hands away. "That wasn't too bad! Did I follow your recipe good?" He said excitedly. Patton coughed and spluttered, heaving for breath. His tongue was coated in a sour, yet bitter residue.

  "No?"

  ...

  "It's okay, i-it's okay... I can try again..."

  Remus giggled meekly, slumping onto the floor to match Patton. Patton could feel Remus's gaze scraping over his skin. "You've hurt your shoulder, silly." Falling limp under his touch—

  (Warm, warm! The only warm thing, his hands. Soak it in.)

—Remus's hands roamed Patton's shoulder as he assessed the injury. He had dislocated it with his thrashing. "I got it, just—" Remus stuck out his tongue in concentration. Grip secure, he rearranged the bones then shoved. It clicked back into the socket. Pitiful whimpers feebly dripped out of Patton. Hushing him, Remus rubbed warmth— burning hot— into the joint to somewhat soothe the pain. It tingled.

  Remus kneeled back in front of Patton. "Does anything else hurt?" He asked, his voice nothing but gentle. Gentle. How could he be gentle? It almost convinced Patton to move.

  But it didn't.

  Hands cupped his cheeks, hot, searing— and lifting his face. Their eyes meet, reluctantly on Patton's part. Remus's bright eyes hurt to look at in this gloomy dungeon (Patton wished he could just roll over and pull a blanket over his head). "What hurts?" He reiterated more firmly, "I can't help if you don't speak."

  "W-w-wri-ists..."

  "Oh, I suppose the bandages need changing," Remus hummed. Suddenly, he dropped Patton's head, which flopped down. His neck cracked like a twig snapping.

  "No funny business," he warned. Carefully, he unlocked one shackle. One hand gripped Patton's forearm unrelentingly while the other made quick work on the bandages. Sticky blood made strings as the soaked through bandages were peeled away. Hastily, Remus cleaned the wound and rebandaged it with summoned supplies. The gauze was pulled slightly too tight. Forgetting to chain him back up, Remus simply moved onto his other wrist.

  Huh?

  Remus repeated the process on his other hand, unaware. Just as Patton's lungs desperately gathered breath, he made quick work. Exactly as Remus secured the gauze, Patton tugged his hand free. All a deep breath served him was a tiny spark of energy. Pathetically, he flopped, face planting, to the cold ground without support.

  Remus growled, "What did I say, Patton."

  A boot dug in between his shoulder blades. The clatter and clang of chains—

  "P-please," his voice cracked wretchedly, "please, plea-ease." He curled into a protective ball around his arms.

  Remus froze. Almost growing a conscience.

  "You'll just run away..."

  "Please!" Patton sobbed, "I won't, I c-can't!" Watery, broken, begging, "I can't I won't I promise I won't move I can't I won't I promise I won't please I can't it hurts it hurts please I promise I can't I promise I promise—"

  "Shh," Remus forced him to shut up by pressing his thumb into the soft flesh under his jaw where a hopeless man would press a gun, making Patton choke slightly.

  Then his hand slipped into delicately caressing his jaw. "It's okay," Remus tenderly whispered, "I trust you."

  When was Patton not confused anymore?

  Remus hugged him. Hauled Patton into his arms, off the cold concrete, onto his warm body. And he didn't budge. Body adjusting to the new temperature, Remus's touch mellowed down to lukewarm. Barely room temperature. Remus organised him to fold into his lap and sink into his chest. Blood happily rushed to Patton's legs with the change in position.

  A hesitant kiss was planted on his cheek, at the corner of his lips, mustache tickling him.

  Warm.

  His heart fluttered.

  Somehow, Patton couldn't bring himself to hate him. God, he wanted to, but he couldn't. He knew what was happening to him, he knew. He knew, he knew.

  But Patton didn't have the strength to refuse.

  He certainly couldn't run. He couldn't walk. He couldn't stand. He couldn't move. Merely breathing was hard. Patton used the smidgen of strength he had left to loosely curl an arm around Remus's back. Shutting out the light, his eyelids slid closed. He could sleep. Just sleep.

  It's okay...

  Maybe Remus will make some edible pasta next time.

~•~

*I think I give up on the gifs*

[}i{] *Virtual Hugs* (}i{)