When We Were Monsters (Magnus 359)

[questionsonly]

[ Death is a funny thing.

For normal people, it's an end. For people like them, like him and Jacobi and others... it's a choice. It's a moment when you decide whether you want to rest... or if there's something stronger in you. A need, a drive that's stronger than what your body can't handle. Something that defies the End, sends you towards a different path.

A path with teeth.

A path with claws.

A path that has him experiencing the most agonizing pain he's ever known, that has him burning and freezing and screaming wordlessly into the empty vacuum of space. Even the burn of the whiskey down his throat is lost in it, in all of it, flavor and meaning and words and thoughts and everything, everything lost to the drive, the need

the Hunt.

It's agony. Agony as he reaches and holds. Agony as he floats and burns and dies and does not die. And when the Goddard follow up crew finds him, moves to recover his body, he gives one of their officers the scare of their life when he sits up on the table.

Not for long, though, because their throat is in his teeth before he can even think.





Suffice to say, things on board do not go... peacefully.

But that's not really the important part. That's just the inbetween. That's just the how. It's not the why. It's not the what.

The what comes months later.

The what comes in a knock on Jacobi's door from a man in sunglasses and a Goddard Futuristics uniform that most people wouldn't realize has blood on it, but the man behind the door? There's no way he'd miss it.]

Comments

[mrballisticsdummy]

He lets the feeling linger for a while, losing himself in that touch so he doesn't have to worry about the outside world that had been so, so brutal and cold and unwelcome. He had been in a fog, unable to relate to anyone around him and unwilling to coexist with the only other people who could understand.

But he does. Warren does.

He pulls away, catches his breath, and slides his hands down to his chest. "So...do I have to worry about you manhandling me like that on a regular basis?" he wonders. "Because I'd like a warning next time."

[questionsonly]

He tilts his head just the once, considering how to answer that. He's still smiling, a curl on the side of his lips.

"Tackling you? Probably... not." Because it would only happen if they were separated again for a long time or he had to hunt him down and that's not happening. "But... I fully intend to pick you up. Hold you. Move you around."

He frowns, then decides to commit.

"Pin you to a wall and fuck you. Throw you down on a bed and... I'm sure you see where I'm going." Beat. "When we get there."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He is a trained goddamn agent and nothing flusters him. Nothing...except those words. He tries not to show it.

"Yeah, you're going to have to try harder than that. I suppose I'm letting you live here for the time being, too? You stopped being my superior officer a long time ago and so I have full permission now to just tell you to fuck off."

[questionsonly]

He's sitting on what is, in many ways, a werewolf. He can try not to show it all he likes. That nose? Knows.

But he just waits out Jacobi's bit of bluster, curious and attentive, and leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He'll nuzzle against Jacobi's jaw as he speaks, letting the vibrations of it thrum across the skin of his throat, every word dark honey.

"If you like. If... you want breakfast in the morning. A warm body in bed with you. To sleep the dreamless sleep of the utterly exhausted."

And then he draws back a little and it's much more matter of fact.

"Or I go bunk up in one of my safehouses in this city. Either or. You do what you want."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He doesn't even have to consider. There's a missing part of his soul right here in front of him. To lose it again would be devastating in the worst way. Even just for a night.

"I want an omelet. With spinach and cheese."

And he leans back and turns, plucking his drink from the coffee table to finish it.

[questionsonly]

He leans in again, because he likes having his nose up against Jacobi's skin, or in his hair. He likes that scent in his lungs.

"Do you have eggs? Or spinach?"

Cheese is a given.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Nope, but that stuff can be delivered. We went to space for so long and come back to a more convenient world."

He moves out of his lap as easily as he moved into it, propping his feet back up on the coffee table.

"So what else can you tell me about this...new you? Because, frankly, I've lost all my tolerance for surprises."

And this isn't just temporary. This is who he is, and Jacobi is used to him being a certain way. That all has to go out the window now.

[questionsonly]

Warren doesn't like him leaving but he watches him instead of following him, and there's a definitely feeling that he could Be wherever he needed to be in this room within a heartbeat. For all that he's reclining, there's a certain big cat energy to the whole thing.

"Not much different from the old me. Just. More." A tilt of his head as he reconsiders that. "And... no more Goddard. No more... command structure. You'll see... more. I'm a little less.

"Subtle. Some of my patience is gone. Not. for you? For... nonsense." His eyes turn towards the window of the room they're in, almost like he can see his targets out there. Maybe he can.

"Also? I. firmly intend. to hunt down. every. single. member of the Goddard governing board. and c-suite. And tear out their skeletons for every.one to see.

"Emotionally. Financially. Socially. And then... physically."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi had given up on that dream a long time ago. Much like 2011, he spiraled out into nothingness, content to live this life of absolute drudgery because, well, what else can he do. But there's something in Warren's tone that brings the passion back to life. That anger reignites.

"Good," he says softly. "I want to help."

The rest of it is inconsequential. The differences between Warren then and Warren now? Something to examine for another day. Jacobi knows he will have to see it, to experience it, first.

And he's back beside him, as close as he can manage. Because, as he's starting to see, he can.

[questionsonly]

"I thought you might want a part of it," he says as he tugs Jacobi into his lap, or if he was already there? Just a little closer. And he'll bury his face in Jacobi's curls for a moment, breathing in.

"...I never... liked violence. Before. I reveled in... success. In... dismantling. In pulling apart each. individual. piece. Repurposing it for my use. My goals. Reusing."

He presses a kiss to the back of Jacobi's jaw.

"That's different now."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He wasn't, but is now, back in his arms and in his lap and against him, feeling every movement of muscle that Jacobi already had memorized. But now he can feel it.

He tries to push him away, but his movements are feeble, obvious grasps at control that he doesn't actually want.

"Then I definitely want in." Unlike Kepler, Jacobi had always liked getting dirty. Digging in. Hurting in every way he could. He just kept his discipline because he had to.

[questionsonly]

Warren will listen to him... when he means it. When he's pulling away just to make a token effort, he'll hold him close as he likes.

"You break. I... rip.". A smile that Jacobi will feel instead of see. "They? Bleed."

[mrballisticsdummy]

A shudder absolutely tears through him at those words and he can see it. He can imagine it. Tearing through each one of them like so much tissue paper.

And that anger towards him goes away. At least for the moment. Because there's no better way to show love for a person than Scorched. Fucking. Earth. In their absence.

His laugh is - a little cruel. "Remember how I said you'd have to try harder? This is exactly what I meant."

He digs fingers into his arm, wanting the pressure it gives.

[questionsonly]

Kepler had had a guiding principle, once upon a time. He'd had a goal and a dream. He'd had a different kind of hunt, a bigger, grander hunt.

But that's... That's done. And that's fine. Now, he just wants to sniff out his prey and tear them to pieces. And he wants to let Jacobi break them. And watch as he finishes the job.

Nothing could be sweeter. Nothing possible, anyway. Not with Jacobi's fingers digging in.

"...down. to. the. marrow."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Another laugh, just as cruel, and he takes a moment, just a moment, to marvel at how easy it was to fall into this. To let the floodgates open and embrace that part of himself that he always kept in check.

"You should have led with that," he tells him, raking nails up and underneath his shirt, along his back. "I've been so - well, like I was. When we first met. This is the second time you've brought me out of it."

[questionsonly]

There's a moment where he considers it, where he licks at his lips, at the newly-returned fangs in his mouth. Those eyes are just a little brighter as he speaks.

"I promised you. No more games. Not... with you. If I'd led with slaughter?" he nips at the corner of his jaw, just a tiny little nibble, "that? Would be cheating."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"No games. No - evasion." It's a difficult concept to wrap his mind around. Certainly more difficult than this part, the physical part. But he's not inclined to follow orders anymore and he's not living by Goddard's rules. He didn't, not at the end, not when he was angry, and not now.

No questions. No complaints. Those are harder habits to break.

The little nip gets a smile. "Did you really rip his throat out with those teeth?" he wonders, flicking his tongue once against Kepler's lips.

[questionsonly]

Which is... very Jacobi. And more than a little cute. He'll steal a kiss before he answers again.

"I did indeed. Tore his heart out with my claws. Ate it for strength while his assistant watched. I don't know which was tastier: the meat? or the fear."

He'd spent the next few days slowly hunting down the people on the recovery vessel. It had been a lot of fun, really. He's sad Jacobi couldn't have been watching him. Perhaps the appreciation and attention wouldn't have fed the Hunt, but it'd been nice for him.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yuck," he says with a smile on his face and no disgust in his tone. "What did you do to the assistant?"

He can't be afraid of Kepler or what he does. In fact, he can't think of a time when he was genuinely afraid of him. Afraid of consequences? Yes. Afraid of being yelled at because his bad mood makes the day drag on? Of course. But actually afraid of him. Never.

Even now, seeing those teeth and knowing those claws exist and feeling, on his own, the strength he possesses...there is no fear. He thinks, in a vague way, that there should be, but he can't force it.

[questionsonly]

The 'yuck' gets a laugh. Then he's leaning in to take another kiss before continuing. Jacobi is here, and that means he'll be stolen from. Just rob him blind of kisses over and over.

"He was a runner," he says with a huff and a laugh, "so I got a great chase out of him. I don't think he realized who I was. They hadn't found my tracker yet? So. He had no idea I'd know the ship layout. Thought he could hide in a blind turn."

That gets another chuckle and a shake of his head.

"Mmmm, I pretended I lost him. Had him going for almost a full minute before I had my hand through his chest. A full 'Temple of Doom'." He sighs. "Minus the still-beating. It was twitching? But... not full on beating. That's fiction."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Good to know," he says with actual enthusiasm. "How did you get back?"

Because now he's just enjoying the sound of his voice. Hes enjoying asking questions and getting ateaight answers. Not sifting through an hour-long story just for scraps of information. His hands still press into his back and he dodges the last kiss in favor of pressing lips against his jaw instead. Taking a little initiative of his own. Keeping him talking so he can press against him.

[questionsonly]

For better or worse, the capacity for an hour long story is... significantly lower at this point. His patience just... isn't there. Oh, he could still sit on a stakeout for hours, days even. But that's a Hunt. Now, direct gives him what he wants, lets him stalk around and take kisses.

"Once the crew was dead, I had a ship. All to myself. What. the fuck. do I care about cleaning up Goddard's mess anymore? If nothing else, it'll give me ammunition."

He likes Jacobi's lips on his jaw. That's good too.

"Piloted myself down to that hidden landing pad in Wisconsin. Stopped by my stash to pick up money. A car. A laptop? And a new phone. Then... it was just a matter of finding you. And going where I needed to go."

He smiles a little.

"...I have other clothes in the car, baby. I wore this for you to... be as up. front. as possible."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Did you call me baby?"

He sits back and stares at him. Because, yes, that's what he has chosen to comment on. Everything else is cut and dry. He had a ship. He got back. He found Jacobi. Clothes in the car. He has no follow up to that. Nothing that he wants to know.

"No one has ever called me that before. Not even - well, the others."

[questionsonly]

Warren looks back at him, eyes glittering teasingly, a smug smile on his lips.

"Because," he explains very easily, "you aren't. their. baby. Not their sunshine. Not their gorgeous. Or their honey. Definitely not their sweetheart."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He's never going to get used to that. The plain talking. The outright truth with not much underneath. All his feelings laid bare.

It occurs to him, only briefly, the amount of information that he's been forced to accept in a short amount of time, but, frankly, he's almost had worse.

"Definitely not that, no."

Again, another kiss pressed to his jaw, right under his ear and he lingers a while. "This is insane. You realize that, right?"