Chapter Text
Jeremy knew it wasn’t right, and yet, he couldn’t stop coming down to watch Ryan work. It was fascinating. Jeremy had seen blood, seen injuries, had even caused more than a few himself, but nothing on the level of what Ryan did.
The man was undoubtedly an artist, one torture leading perfectly into the next. Jeremy liked to stand in the corner, at Ryan’s insistence just enough to one side so the victim had to turn their head to see him fully. From there he could witness the magic.
Ryan wouldn’t ask any questions to begin with. Just playing around, having a feel for what would work best. Talking all the while. People knew Vagabond as the silent deadly dog of the Fake crew, but that meant he saved up alot to say.
“So do you like knives?” Ryan would ask, and without waiting, slice at them, “I like knives.” Blood, ruby red and perfect would spill out, Jeremy's eyes tracking the crimson waterfall down chest. He had shot people, stabbed them, cut throats, but never stayed around to watch how the blood falls. How it follows the curves and dips of flesh. How it soaks into denim so slowly.
“I love a good barbeque.” Ryan would laugh, searing his victim with his handheld Blowtorch. He made creme brulee with that very same one. Jeremy remembered how delicious it was as he watched blisters form and burst, the skin bubbling from the heat.
Sparks flew from the jumper cables and Ryan touched them together. A leering skull leaning down to whisper, “A classic for a reason” before setting them to his victim. Jeremy watched the spine stiffen, the shoulders shake and a pained grunt force its way from between clenched teeth.
They were more than willing to talk by that point, but still Ryan grabbed the sledgehammer, swinging it around, smashing it against cement until the victim in the chair was screaming secrets at the top of his lungs. It did nothing to prevent the hammer coming down on his kneecaps. Jeremy wondered what bone marrow looked like when the red became so dark it was black.
To be tortured by Ryan was to be the sole focus of his world.
Now however, the main event was over. Ryan had gotten all the secrets Geoff wanted and the boss had given him the go ahead to permanently silence this one. Though Jeremy struggled to admit he enjoyed watching Ryan work, making excuses every time he came down here. But he couldn’t deny he found this part fascinating.
Ryan put down the Pliers, taking up his personal hunting knife from the tray. As he passed the door, he shut the slot so noise no longer escaped. This was a private moment and Jeremy was honored that Ryan indicated he should stay there.
The method varied but the result was always the same. This latest one was as intimate a time as any. Ryan gently set himself down over broken legs, heedless of the blood getting on his own outfit.
“Please… Please… Please…” Bruised, battered and broken, they begged for him like they always did at the end. Then something changed. Jeremy sucked in a breath as Ryan looked up over their prisoners shoulder to meet Jeremy’s eyes.
The blue in the mask shone bright as Ryan reached up and pulled the plastic from his face. His eyes were still the most haunting feature, highlighted in Black. Jeremy stood up from where he leant on the wall, knowing it was coming. With a gentle hand Ryan hushed the vague sobbing coming from the bound victim, lovingly stroking the mangled face.
Ryan allowed his victim time to breathe through the pain, gently guiding their head to rest on his chest. He patted their hair and murmured soothingly, still gazing at Jeremy who was subtly shifting to get a better view, his own eyes flicking between Ryan’s and the man he sat upon.
“It’s ok. Shhhh. You did so well. So well. So good for me huh?” Ryan was saying as the prisoner cried hopelessly into his bloodstained shirt. Sometimes Ryan took his time. Sometimes he was quick. Sometimes he was mean and sometimes, like now, he was almost lover level of kind. Ryan finally pulled his eyes from Jeremy who could do nothing but watch, mesmerized by Ryan's voice and movements as much as the bound man.
“Hey now, look at me. Look.” He commanded softly, helping guide the prisoners eyes to his. He smiled and it damn near broke Jeremy’s heart to see the tender Ryan he knew atop a man that he had pulled apart not to many minutes ago. The Victim was likewise affected, fresh sobs breaking out but not allowed to break eye contact.
“Shh. I am just a man. I am just a human being. Just like you. There is no Demon, no Monster. Just me. And just you.” Jeremy was ignored but he didn’t mind. Ryan was treating him to a special show. He didn’t know why but he was trying to capture everything in his mind.
“I’ll make the pain stop for you.” Ryan promised and a tattered voice croaked out so faintly, Jeremy had to take a step forward to catch it.
“You will?”
Ryan smiled that heartbreaking smile, actual tears welling in his eyes.
“Of course. I’ll stop it. For you.” He whispered and slid his knife home into his prisoners heart. Then in a practiced move, identical to however he finished them, he fisted the hair behind their head, leaning in close, eyes darting between his victims pupils, searching, searching...
It was a quiet, almost gentle death and after a moment Ryan sighed, shuffling back and off, letting the corpse head go to slump over their chest. He pulled the knife and moved to wipe it clean with the water boarding rag. Jeremy came over quietly, feeling the need to be silent and respectful. Like a cautious animal he looked at Ryan, but Ryan had put a hand on the wall, breathing steadying breaths and made no objections to Jeremy near his kill. Jeremy looked down at the body and with sure hands, lifted the face up to look for himself into those eyes.
Empty.
Disappointment flooded Jeremy. So many times had he taken a life, but never had he actually looked into their eyes. With how obsessed Ryan seemed with the practice, Jeremy had hoped to see something to justify what the hell he was doing down here once again.
Jeremy sighed aloud and looked up to see Ryan staring back at him, his knife still in hand. Jeremy let the head flop forward once more, standing straight and backed up two steps. Ryan strode towards him purposely and unease flooded the youngest crewman as he was backed up further until his back hit the wall.
Ryan's face was so close, Jeremy could see the paint run from extended sweat. Ryan's eyes were dark all around the socket but his eyes were bright, dilated. They searched Jeremy's face, the lad turning his head slightly to try and move further back but only giving Ryan more room to press into his personal space.
“Why are you here Jeremy?” Ryan asked suddenly, his face the mild curious of a boy with a magnifying glass. Jeremy felt very much the ant as those cold blue eyes finally stilled, locking on his own. A chill ran down his spine and his nerves screamed danger with the Vagabond so close.
“Why do you watch me all the time huh? Mr squeamish Jeremy. ‘Oh no, torture is so wrong, so bad’” Ryan mocked him but he didn’t dare defend himself even as Ryan’s free hand came up to lean against the wall, just above his shoulder. The knife trailed up the soft skin on his arm and Jeremy gulped as suddenly he felt as if he was the sole and only focus of Ryan’s world.
Ryan wasn’t wrong. When Jeremy had first joined he had objected to torture. He was a infiltrator. His kills were either close fast and quickly abandoned or from the safety of a sniper's nest. He had no experience with prolonging pain, and hadn’t understood its full uses in an operation like this one.
“Lil’J... Did Geoff ask you to keep an eye on me? Did Alex?” Ryan asked softly and tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly when Jeremy jerked his head in negative.
“What’s the matter? Edgar got your tongue?” He asked even softer as the knife caressed Jeremy’s jaw line, the heart blood leaving a sticky trail in his trimmed beard.
“R-Ryan. W-hat are you d-doing?” he stuttered out as the knife left his cheek and ran down the front of his shirt, gliding down between his Pecs until it rested in his belly button. It wasn’t hard to imagine that knife pushing forward, sliding into Jeremy's internal organs like they were it’s sheath. Not even five whole minutes had passed since that same blade had been inside a heart.
“Never mind that.” Ryan's voice sharpened slight but still was a polite conversation level. “Tell me why the sudden interest in my job? This is the ninth person you’ve watched me dispatch…” Ryan trailed off before startling Jeremy, hitting the wall by Jeremy's head with his palm, shouting, “Why?!”
Jeremy tried to speak but all that came out was a soft jumble of words. Ryan’s face turned hard for a flash then gentled again.
“Try that again?” he encouraged and Jeremy swallowed his trepidation of the larger man looming over him so he could concentrate on the answer, on forming the words and delivering them coherently. It wasn’t helped by the knife coming back to his throat, the tip against his adam’s apple.
“The truth now.”
“I want to know what you see.” Jeremy managed without a single stutter, careful to pronounce each word carefully and slowly. Ryan smiled and suddenly Jeremy could breathe again as the knife tip disappeared. Ryan took a step back and opened his arms, the knife, disturbingly absent.
“Lil’J, why didn’t you just ask? Here, come look.” He enthused and put an arm around the still trembling sniper. The corpse would have to be moved soon to avoid stiffening into the shape of the chair but for now was still freshly limber. Ryan picked up the head by the hair once more, drawing Jeremy’s attention to the glassed out eyes.
“What do you see?” Ryan asked his voice deep and dulcet. At the invite, Jeremy gave Ryan a confused look before turning his eyes as instructed. Ryan held the head up as if the neck was still working, but the lids of the eyes had drooped. Jeremy leant in, searching, insides turning in trepidation in case Ryan's mode swung towards the murderous again.
“I- Nothing. I see nothing. Just dead eyes.” Jeremy said a little confused and still a bit on edge. Ryan tapped his own nose with his free finger and his grin widened.
“Ah, but do you remember? Just before I broke their heart?” Ryan asked, looking expectantly at Jeremy only to sigh as Jeremy returned his look with a blank one of his own. Even in death the body got no respect, head falling forward for a third time so Ryan could clasp his hands on Jeremy’s cheeks, his palms still sticky from blood, cool against Jeremy's skin.
“I look into your eye’s Jeremy and they are just like theirs had been,” he dipped his chin at the corpse without looking away from Jeremy, “So alive. Moving, searching, thinking. Full of pain, of hope of despair. I can look into someone’s eyes and know what their thinking. It’s all written there plain to see.” Ryan’s face was drawing closer as he lectured until the gents lips were close enough to Jeremy’s that he felt the warmth from them. Ryan paused and Jeremy wondered what was going to happen.
Blue filled his vision and he didn’t know how he would feel if Ryan closed that tiny distance between them. He had the outrageous and crazy idea that perhaps he should. Just as Jeremy sucked in a breath, steeling himself for that last half inch, Ryan pulled back looking back and forth between Jeremy’s eye’s. It made him blush as Ryan gave him a knowing look, a thumb brushing his cheek affectionately, like Ryan had seen his inner thoughts.
“Plain to see Jeremy. In the eyes.” Ryan repeated softly, pausing for a long moment. Then it passed and took his hands from Jeremy’s face, the heat of them burnt into the young man’s skin. One hand on his hip, Ryan waved a hand at the corpse as if it had irritated him, giving Jeremy a moment to suck in some much needed breath.
“But that, now? Nothing. Empty. All gone.” He huffed and looked back to Jeremy who realized he was swaying slightly, his body all tingling. He managed to bring focus back to Ryan, that easy smile parting over white teeth.
“Little Jeremy. I see the moment the board is wiped clean. The very instant when it all fades. And to be the one holding the eraser? That’s a pretty good feeling.” Ryan explained and too Jeremy it seemed there was an energy to Ryan that he had never experienced for himself. Sure he had killed but never as intimately and as personally as Ryan does. Looking at the glowing face of the gent and seeing the rush first hand, listening to the reasoning behind it filling him with a longing he never recognized before.
“Can you show me?” He asked before he thought to hard about it, voice hitching with suppressed excitement that soared when Ryan nodded. He never took his eyes off Jeremy’s face as he stepped back towards the door and lifted a fist.
“Oh yeah. Let me show you my world Jeremy. I’d love too.” Ryan assured him then slammed his raised fist into the door twice. The electricity Jeremy felt between them snapped when Ryan opened the door and stuck his head out.
“Hey kids, wanna see a dead body?!” he called, clean-up crew inbound. The door came wide and as Trevor and Michael came in, Jeremy found Ryan looking at him once more. He knew the next one, he wouldn’t just be watching.
An unidentified shiver ran up his spine at the thought.