Wrath and Love

Wrath and Love: Chapter Four

Warning: Violence and implied rape


When his mother finally took her leave, Pepito turned back around to face Todd, leaning back and away from him into a more relaxed position. “Thanks, Todd, honey.”

Pulling the communicator into his lap, Todd couldn't help the glare that his face insisted on sending the other, despite the pain that it caused him, for the sarcastic remark as well as his treatment of one of the nicest people that he had ever known.

The glare made Pepito smirk. “Good. For a moment there I thought we were going back to our second grade relationship.”

Drawing his legs up almost against his stomach, Todd thought that at this point their second grade relationship might be an improvement. “Did you mean what you said to your mother? About me not being in trouble?”

“I had no reason to lie.”

“So...what happens now?”

“That's a good question.” Pepito glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “We've still a little while before dinner if you want to get a real bath.”

“Umm...yeah...that's not really what I meant, but thanks.” He knew that it would probably sting horribly, but a hot bath had been on the top of the things that he had desperately wanted during his entire isolation. And eating in his current state held no appeal anyway.

The Antichrist received a startled look when he rose to his feet, pulling back the comforter to help the other up. “What? The doctor said you have a sprained ankle.”

Todd looked down at his right ankle, which was now wrapped in an elasticized bandage. “It doesn't feel sprained.” Actually, it was one of the few parts of him that didn't hurt.

“She gave you a local anesthetic to cut down on some of the pain, but you're still not supposed to put too much pressure on it.”

After a few moments, Todd relented, allowing himself to be helped up, his right arm slung over Pepito's shoulder and Pepito's left arm around his back as they made their way through the room, even though it was slightly humiliating under the circumstances. “Why are you doing this?” He winced when Pepito shifted as if preparing to drop him for the ingratitude.

“Would you rather I not?”

“No, I just meant, why you personally? Don't you have all kinds of things to do? And other people to do this kind of stuff?”

“You mean things like planning the destruction of the human race? Not really. I cleared my schedule to come here when Karl told me that there was another potential, and now that I am here, I'm kind of obligated to stay a while.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Who said I'm disappointed?”

“Aren't you?”

There was a long pause as the two made their way through the moderate living room that connected a few other rooms in Pepito's quarters to the double doors of a nice sized bath room, which opened without so much as a touch on the half-demon's part. “No. I'm not.” He helped Todd to sit on the edge of the whirl tub before adjusting the nobs to start the water running. “I did miss you, you know. And I am glad to finally find out what happened to you, even if you did betray me. How hot do you want this water?”

Todd's eyes softened some at the unexpected answer. “Just below scalding.” He forced himself to meet the other's gaze. “You think I betrayed you?”

“You did betray me, Todd. What else would you be doing with the Resistance?” Pepito adjusted the temperature, taking a seat on the other side of the faucet from Todd. “Test the water.”

Scooting closer to the handles, Todd rolled up his left sleeve, exposing a bruised wrist. “I told you that they weren't all with the Resistance.”

“But you were working with them, against me.” He fought an urge to touch the scar on his head again. “Tell me, did any of your friends by any chance know the man who tried to kill me last year?”

“I...really don't know if any of them knew him. I wasn't involved back then. Not until you changed. Not until you started the camps. And I told them that I wouldn't kill anyone. I was just trying to help get as many people out of your jurisdiction as I could.” He stuck his hand in the hot water, grimacing at the pain, but still unsatisfied. “It needs to be hotter.”

Pepito was fully prepared to scoff at Todd's claim of wanting it hotter than even he took it, considering that his body temperature was naturally a few degrees higher than most humans', but a good look at the man's wrist stopped him. Letting the water continue to run at its current temperature, he moved closer, capturing the retreating hand. “Todd, is this a hand print?” At the court yard, he had assumed that the marks around both of his wrists were from the restraints that he had been sporting.

Making a vain attempt to free his hand, Todd looked away from Pepito, afraid that his answer would make it all too real. He didn't want to burst this dream-like bubble in which he could almost pretend that nothing had happened.

“Answer me, Todd. Is this a hand print?” His voice was firm, but he tried not to make it as hard as it would have normally been with an order. “Let me see the other one.”

Todd took a deep breath as he presented his other hand to Pepito, letting him roll up that sleeve as well. He wasn't going to cry again. If he tried hard enough, he could almost believe that it had happened to someone else.

He knew what he would see before he even touched the other hand. Todd's eyes had that far away look again. He wasn't out of it this time, but he was trying to block something. Pepito knew that look. In the past it had usually meant that he needed to kick someone's ass. He let out a long sigh when his suspicions were reinforced. A part of him wanted to leave then and forget the matter entirely, but instead he pulled up a spare chair.

“Pepito, what are you doing!” Todd moved back impulsively, nearly falling into the filling tub, when the Antichrist's fingers started to unbutton his gray work camp shirt.

“You're going to need help with the bandages, and I need to see how bad the damage is. I didn't get a good look before. Now hold still.”

Maybe the bath wasn't worth it after all. Todd felt his eyes sting as he fought back the tears. It was easier to pretend when you were the only one who knew. But maybe Pepito wouldn't say anything. Maybe he wouldn't care. And maybe that would be enough of a relief that Todd wouldn't mind that he didn't care.

Just as he remembered, there were bruises and cuts in many places on Todd's upper body, including more hand prints that he hadn't previously recognized as such on his shoulders and upper chest and what looked to be a boot print on his side. It wasn't as if he had ever believed the story about the injuries coming from the escape attempt or even when he had been captured, but somehow they seemed more malicious now. But that might have just been because of the way Todd was acting, because of that look in his eyes that betrayed so much vulnerability. That look had always made him feel...strange, protective, even when they were children, even now.

He jumped again when, after removing the exposed bandages, Pepito's hands found the waist of his pants. “Stop! Okay, I seriously think I can take it from here.”

“Very well. Go right ahead.” Pepito let his hands be pushed away, leaning back in his chair to watch Todd's progress.

“Aren't you going to leave?” Todd tried to make his voice sound scandalized or demanding instead of pleading.

“No. I think I'll stick around for the floor show. What I have memorized from all those gym showers is getting a little foggy.”

He looked down, away from Pepito, as his hands came together in his lap, trembling. He could feel his breathing picking up speed and becoming more shallow, and hoped that he would faint from the stress. Alas, no such luck. Through all the years of trauma, he had never been a fainter. Minutes passed in silence as he just sat there. If it hadn't been for all of the bandaged places on his legs, he would have bathed in the pants. Pleading would only make him look even more pathetic than he already did.

Pepito had to get up to turn off the water, and he was tempted to push Todd in, but that would only lead to a wet, sticky, bloody mess. And with his luck, Todd would go into shock again. He already looked like he might be on the verge of a panic attack. It would be easy to comply with his request for privacy, and he wanted very badly to do so, but something kept him there. Something was wrong, and maybe he should just ignore it, but he couldn't. It was ridiculous, but he couldn't. “Todd, it's just a bath. I'm sure you've suffered worse. Now, suck it up.”

The man forced himself to glare again as Pepito's hand wrapped around his upper arm, pulling him to his feet. The other hand moved down, pulling his pants down below the work camp issued briefs, and Todd could feel his face heat up in near mortification. A single tear rolled down his cheek, feeling almost cold against hot skin as he was allowed to sit back down with the pants at his ankles. He gulped down deep breaths of air, attempting to find that level of mental distance that he had learned to employ during his punishments at the camp as the bandages were removed form his legs and then his thighs.

Pepito had to hold back a gasp once Todd's upper legs were freed of the fabric that had been wrapped around them. There were even more bruises on his legs than his torso, but what caught his attention was the purple, bruised prints that ended in fingernail cuts on either inner thigh, making things all too obvious. Someone very strong had forced his legs apart, and most of those injuries had come not from a simple beating, but from a violent struggle.

He suddenly wished that Benedict was still alive so that he could kill him again, only more painfully than last time. It was true that in Hell people could be tortured to all new lengths without breaking, and the ex- Commandant was now definitely going to be one of them, but it lacked the satisfaction and closure that could only be found when their ordeal ended in death. Rape was one of the few forms that punishment in the work camps was explicitly not allowed to take. That whole damn camp was going to need an overhaul.

Todd's eyes remained closed until he felt himself being lowered into a sitting position on the floor. He was leaned against the wall of the tub, and Pepito was on the floor as well, right across from him, looking at a loss for words. Todd stared at him blankly, wanting that moment to pass.

“Tell me what happened.”

Pulling his legs back toward his chest as he had on the bed, Todd wrapped his arms around them. He shook his head resolutely. More tears fell from his eyes. There was no way that Pepito was stupid enough to need him to spell it out, and the last thing that he wanted to do was talk about it. He looked away until the other crawled closer, until Pepito's upper chest met his knees and his hand forced him to look into his eyes. The hand slipped into his hair, against his temple without another word, and he knew what that meant. “Please, Pepito...please don't.”

“I have to.” His voice came out barely above a whisper. He had never seen Todd look this broken, and somehow it was making him feel broken as well. It was almost enough to make him regret finding the other man.

“Why?”

“I don't know.” It wasn't as if he wanted to because he didn't. He didn't want to know this at all. He didn't want to open himself up to the level of empathy needed to drag out this truth for anyone ever again, but he couldn't make himself stop. He felt Todd's body relax between his own and the tub as the connection was forced.


There was a flash of light, and then Todd was being pulled and shoved down a flight of stairs, down dark corridors and into an even darker cell. Another flash and Commandant Benedict, along with two more guards, was in the cell with him, hitting him, kicking him, screaming obscenities and accusations. It was all pretty standard, expected even, and Todd had taken it like a trooper, like he always did. But then something was different.

The Commandant had demanded to know how Scolex had known how to override the control protocols for the androids. When he received no answers, he brought in one of the androids that had helped in the escape. Todd knew him as L-781. He had been deactivated when captured, but after being carried into the cell, he was restarted, rebooted and reprogrammed before his eyes.

It had taken three guards to hold him down, kicking and screaming, finally fighting back even though in the back of his mind he had known that the odds were impossible.

He knew that L-781 had no more choice than he did when the controls were on. He was simply running a simulation that the Commandant had chosen, the most violent one he had. The disparaging words, the rough touches, the sadism; it was all fake, all acting, all a rape of L-781 just as much as of himself. It was an elaborate mechanization, a series of complex commands made to look real. It was what the androids were supposed to be, but weren't: artificial. There had to be a code word to stop the program, but he had no idea what it was. It certainly hadn't been “stop” or “please” or anything to that effect that had escaped him in that time.

The guards were laughing and cheering and helping the android rip his clothes off, still landing blows whenever he escaped his grasp, pushing him back down to the floor. By the time it was over he felt like an empty shell of a person. He heard L-781 crying when he was dragged from the cell in the wake of the simulation.

The guards didn't seem to mind that he was lying in a puddle of blood with tears and snot running down his face when they took their turn, and this time they barely had to restrain his limp form. At least the android's programs always contained basic safety protocols.

There was pain, so much pain. He felt as if he were being impaled, riped apart, and chocked all at the same time, but there was nothing he could do. He could only lay there and pray for death. Instead, he had eventually passed out from lack of air, though that probably hadn't been the end of it. When he awoke a different kind of fluid had been added to the mix.


“Pepito, what on Earth are you doing!”

“Let him go, Mr. President! You have to let him go.”

Pepito's hand slipped from Todd's temple, through his hair and to the back of his shoulder. The other man groaned in pain as arms tightened around him even more, pulling him further into the embrace that must have happened during the transfer. Todd was sobbing now, beyond words, his head buried in the crook of Pepito's neck. Pepito was shocked to realize that he was crying too, not sobbing, but there were tears falling into the dark brown hair against his face as he whispered things he was barely conscious of. “I'm sorry, Todd, I'm so sorry. Don't cry. Please don't cry. I promise. I promise you're safe now. That's never...never going to happen again. I'm sorry...”

“Darling, you have got to let him go! You're hurting him!” Rosemary fell to her knees beside the two men, pulling desperately on her son's arms that were pressing them together much too tightly. The harder she pulled, the stronger his grip seemed to become. She felt a pinch of guilt that she didn't have time to acknowledge as she pulled a blessed, golden cross from under her blouse, tugging it fiercely to break it free of the matching chain, and pressing it to Pepito's hand. She closed her eyes in concentrated prayer, knowing that it wasn't the cross itself, a material object, that possessed any power, but her own conviction in its authority.

The searing pain that coursed through his hand brought him back to reality, the current one anyway, and he loosened his grip just enough for his mother to pull Todd away from his chest, but not out of his grasp. A hard smack to the face had him letting go completely, and Todd's feeble grip on him was easily dislodged. He brought a hand to his face, where Marla's print no doubt now lingered, before lowering it to examine the cross shaped, spiritual burn on the back. Looking up at the doctor, who was now kneeling at Todd's side, he spoke in a shocked voice. “You hit me.”

The medical practitioner spared a look that she hoped was a least somewhat respectful before turning back to her patient. “I had too. He doesn't need to lose any more blood.”

All of the anger that might have built from that blow to his ego faded away, though the embarrassment did not, when he saw that she was right. He looked silently at Todd, who stared back with teary, confused eyes. Many of his cuts were bleeding again.

Notes:

Warning: Violence and implied rape. This is probably still rated T because I decided to make this ch less graphic than it was originally going to be. Rating still probably will rise to M in future.

Pepito, Todd/Squee and all other JV characters do not belong to me.