Chapter Text
The first thing Six noticed as consciousness swam lazily back into his mind was the concrete. Gritty and cold and hard and frankly just unpleasant, and he was lying on it, half his face pressed against the floor. He immediately realized he was indoors, underground, the air slightly damp and tasting of dirt and mildew. His head hurt like a motherfucker, and the cold metal around his wrists wasn’t very encouraging. Dim light from behind his eyelids; he knew better than to be obvious about gaining consciousness. He could hear someone in the room with him, and the breathing and shuffling feet helped him guesstimate the room’s size. Small. No more than fifteen by fifteen feet at most. And the breathing and shuffling itself, well. Lloyd had always been the impatient type.
“Come on, wake up.” Lloyd walked over and nudged him in the ribs, and that’s when Six realized he hurt everywhere, not just his head. He’d been beaten, a few ribs broken maybe. His left cheekbone felt hot and tight, a fresh bruise forming on the skin. And his ankle-
He felt the dull pain of the sprain just before Lloyd placed the sole of his expensive shoe over Six’s ankle and pressed , and he felt himself flinch, heard himself groan at the pain. When Lloyd spoke next, Six could hear the smile in his voice.
“There you are, sunshine,” he said, digging his heel into Six’s sprained ankle. He bit down another groan and forced his eyes open a crack. Bastard. “Morning. You slept in late, missed the bus. You know how much mom hates having to drive you to school.”
God, he was annoying. Then again, two could play that game. Six turned his face towards Lloyd’s voice and gave a pained grin. “You my mom, then?” he asked. “Or are we both late for school? Metaphor’s kinda confusing, Lloyd.”
He expected Lloyd to keep pressing on his ankle, maybe kick him or something, but to Six’s surprise, he felt the pressure on his ankle lift. And then Lloyd crouched down right next to him and threaded his fingers into Six’s hair.
“Nah, I’m neither,” he said, and then yanked up, nearly ripping the hair out of Six’s scalp as Lloyd pulled him up off the ground. Six couldn’t help the pained sound that leaked out from his chest. “I’m the guy your mom sends you to when you’ve been a very bad boy.”
Oh, this was not good at all.
“Come on, up,” Lloyd said, pulling Six up by his hair, and Six did his best to not get his entire scalp ripped off, but the sprained ankle really wasn’t helping. He felt Lloyd half-drag him to the center of the room, unable to fully stand. A thousand plans raced through Six’s mind, each more desperate and unlikely than the last, and he was in the middle of dissecting one of these plans when Lloyd grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up fully, face to face.
“Now, aren’t you adorable like this,” Lloyd said, perfect white teeth glinting in the dim light of the room’s single bulb. “All sad and pathetic. Really. But I don’t want that just yet, Six. Gimme a little fight. I know you have it in you.”
“Okay,” Six said, and slammed his forehead into Lloyd’s nose.
He heard the bone snap, the blood gush, Lloyd yell in pain and surprise as he dropped Six like a sack of potatoes. Six tried to stay standing, but his legs collapsed underneath him, weak and shaky and in pain. He realized his stomach was chewing a pit in his torso. Hungry.
“How long have I been out?” Six asked, forcing himself to move. His voice sounded ragged and distant to his own ears. Something was wrong, aside from all the other obvious things that were wrong. His eyes were open, but seeing was hard, shapes blurry and unfocused, the light smarting the headache in his brain.
Lloyd chuckled, collecting himself after the broken nose, and began to approach. Six felt his back and shoulder hit a wall. Shit.
“Oh, Six, you really are quite something.” Lloyd crouched down again, still above Six but closer to his level. His perfect smile was stained with blood. “To answer your question, you’ve been out for about a week. Been trying to track down your little girl in the meantime, but I got antsy. Decided I wanted to see if I could break you without her. Want to prove me right?”
Claire . Six’s heart hammered in his chest. At least the fucker didn’t have her. “Nah, I’m good,” he replied, and then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he asked, “What is this? Revenge or something?”
“Eh, sort of.” Lloyd reached out and put one finger under Six’s chin, tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Half revenge, half… well, I guess curiosity. You’re very intriguing, Six, and I’ve decided to make you my new pet project. Hope you’re excited.”
“Thrilled.” Six didn’t break eye contact, but his voice wavered of its own accord, his body already weak from being beaten and starved and who knew what else while he’d been unconscious. He’d beaten Lloyd before, and if he weren’t so fucked, he definitely could’ve again. But Lloyd knew that, and he never played fair if he could help it. Now that he had him, well, Six had a feeling he’d have a hard time finding a good opportunity to escape.
But he didn’t have Claire. That alone made relief fill his chest and strengthen his will. He could handle a psychotic asshole with a penchant for pain. He’d done it a thousand times. But he knew he couldn’t handle Claire getting hurt, and if Lloyd got his hands on her, that’s probably all he’d do.
Keep her safe, Dani , he thought furiously. Lloyd yanked Six up by his shirt again and brought him to a chair in the center of the room, threading his handcuffed arms over the back with rough precision. Six’s head swam; he was too disoriented to fight back physically. Was he drugged as well as beaten and starved? Honestly wouldn’t surprise him. Lloyd wouldn’t give him a single opportunity to escape if he could help it, and drugging his more dangerous victims seemed right up his alley.
Six heard the familiar sound of Lloyd’s butterfly knife flicking and spinning out, and though he didn’t show it, his heart lurched. He knew exactly how good Lloyd was with that knife. Not wanting to be caught unawares, he forced his eyes open again, the blade glinting in the dim light. Lloyd’s grin grew.
“Alright, Six,” Lloyd said, “the rest of your life is either gonna be very simple or very painful. Hopefully both. I own your ass now. You’re mine, and I’m gonna do whatever I want with you. But! You do what I say? Things will be much better for you. Crystal?”
Sierra Six gave Lloyd Hansen a small, pained grin. “Clear as a cloudy day, Lloyd,” he said. “You gonna get started or what?”
Lloyd’s eyes glinted with excitement, and somehow his grin grew even more. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. The knife came to rest under Six’s chin, blade forcing his head up with the threat of sharp pain and a very bloody death.
“First things first,” Lloyd said, “why don’t you tell me your name?”