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mekachu04Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
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There is something deeply wrong with his partner.
It's not just the wild hysterical laughter; though that no other sound has come from the man is still deeply disturbing. But its the way he leans into Kidd, touches him, vacillating between wanting to kill him or worship him. The walk out of Udon was like walking across hell, and the only solitary thing that seems to go right is that Killer knew where to go.
Once Kidd had finally convinced him that they needed to find their ship and their crew, the touching had eased off - like Kidd had finally convinced him to focus on a goal - a task. These were his orders, and Killer fell in line.
Which in of itself was deeply wrong. Killer listened to him - that had never not been true - but he was never a nugatory drone, was never a yes man. If Kidd presented him with a task, Killer would find his own way of doing things - like he enjoyed stepping out of the box and aggravating Kidd to no end that he wouldn't just do a thing.
Kidd would never complain about that again, if his friend would show just a little bit of himself. That a person was still in this laughing body.
His laughter had quieted after being submerged, and Kidd worried how much water the other had mistakenly breathed in. You could drown later if you swallowed enough water. They'd seen it happen to others. Kidd worried this quiet spell his friend was under was him drowning as they marched across Wano's wastelands.
They eventually had to stop to rest - getting the sea-stone cuff off had helped improve Kidd's stamina but it was an emotional day and Killer was clearly starting to flag.
Kidd had popped the bullets out of his torso miles back, but they'd not yet stopped to re-wrap Killer's chest; before they'd submerged the two of them, the guards had taken their coats, and one had noticed Killer had bled through his wrappings. One of the escorts had made a comment about having to bandage him up long enough to get him to the prison in the first place - laughing about how Killer could have bled out at anytime.
Kidd had gone nearly apoplectic, when they'd pulled Killer's torn kimono top down, showing off the half ass job. Then they'd unbound him. Even Strawhat had gone quiet at the starburst carved into his second's chest, the 'mark of failure' that was worth executing him for in the eyes of Orochi. Killer could only laugh, which set the guards off laughing at him, and then they were being forced headfirst into that well.
Everything after was just the need to get out of there and with the blood soaking Killer's cloths and the wrapping on his legs, it was far past time Kidd should have seen to the care of his second.
They were still too exposed, but nothing on the horizon provided a hint of shelter, and eventually Kidd forced Killer to stop marching, his good arm closing around Killer's left elbow - mindful of the older injuries that the man had from their run in with Big Mom's commander. It seemed like a dream now, so far away, even if seeing Big Mom in person today was not anywhere on Kidd's list of ways the day could have gone.
Killer still had not spoken words to him, but his laugh was pitched like a question - or at least, Kidd's hopeful thinking was interpreting it that way. "Sit.... sit down for a minnie, Kil' "
Killer just stared at him, unblinking. His blue eyes too wide still, lashes clumped from where his tears had dried them together. Kidd had to look away first, gently tugging on the man's elbow down, trying to get him to sit so he could do something for the cuts poorly hidden under his robe and coat.
Kidd shrugged his own coat off with his poorly build substitute hand - it'd been a terrible rush job from the start, the scrap forced together with his fruit instead of taking the time to fit them so the interlocked on their own. Because of that, pieces had fallen off during their march; Kidd had no idea how long until they could rest properly, and didn't want to exhaust himself just to keep the extra bulk. Never mind it was the closest thing either had to a weapon to defend themselves at this point.
He urged Killer to sit on the coat, not happy with the Wano style manner in which he knelt, but he was following Kidd's instructions. Kidd pulled the heavy coat from Killer's own shoulders, looking at it more of if they should use it for wrapping, or the tatters of Killer's kimono, when Killer leaned into him, hands on the back of Kidd's knees, before pushing upward along the backs of his legs, the pressure teasing, soft, sensual - cupping his ass under the weighed war kilt, before sliding around front -
"Oi!" Kidd stepped back, grasping Killer's hands and pulling them away. He and Killer absolutely fucked and had absolutely done so at inappropriate times before- much to Wire and Heat's collected annoyance. But even Kidd had a line, and right now was not the time, "The blood loss making you loopy, the hell Killer?!" he demanded.
There was none of Killer in the face that looked back at him, none of the suggestive 'wanna break some social norms?' comradery that often had gotten them into so much trouble as youth. The face looking back at him was carefully blank, a hint of demure and submission and nothing more. He wasn't chastised for coping a feel, just knelt there looking at Kidd like he was waiting for direction.
"Killer?" Kidd asked again, shaking the hands held in his a bit. Absolutely nothing changed about his friend's face, just the slowest blink his only movement. He knelt on the fallen coat he'd been studying, Killer's hands still held in his own even if had loosened his grip. Killer could have pulled free if he tried. There wasn't even a twitch that he was thinking about it.
As Kidd sank down to eye level with him, Killer finally looked away; looked down between them, posture in an easy submissive hunch.
"I need to patch you up," Kidd said finally trying to get Killer to look back at him, "And o - hey, you listening to me?"
Killer seemed to sink down farther, "No - no, Killer, you look at me." he ordered, "I need to know you're hearing me."
Killer sat frozen it seemed, that wheezy breathing that Kidd was starting to recognize as the beginning of a laughing fit.
"Killer?" Kidd let go of his hands, and carefully cupped Killer's chin in his hand, tilting it up. He was crying again, the blank look in his eyes replaced by that madness from before; and Kidd hated to see his partner stressed like this, but anything was better than that empty composure he just had. "Hey, Kil' I need you to listen to me for a sec. Okay?"
His Killer would have hated this - exposed like this. No shelter, sitting out in the open, his clothes loose and falling off him, face bared and forced into eye contact. This was a step Kidd would not normally of even dreamed of, let along entertained like he was now. But he needed to make sure that where-ever Killer was in that head of his right now, that Kidd was getting to him. "I'm gonna get you bandaged up, okay? You're bleeding pretty bad right now. And then we're gonna get back up and go home. I need you to take us home. okay?"
He was laughing, a soft breathy 'fwafwa' like he'd had when he'd stood over Kidd with the keys when the insanity of Udon had them left forgotten in the background. His hands lay limp in his own lap, and Kidd took this as an opening to pull the delicate fabric down off his partner's shoulder. It was soaked in Killer's blood, heavy and wet, and made a horrible sound when it hit the ground behind Killer.
The cuts themselves were straight and smooth at least, someone had at least had some skill when they'd seen to try and kill his partner. The two worse cuts were mostly up and down, crossing just under the bottom of the left side of his rib cage. They appeared thickest at top - cut down then - and while they cleaved though skin and muscle they hadn't cut so deep on his stomach to eviscerate him. The third cut was shallower - long across his chest - and while it barely hit deep enough to glance off bone - it was also the most ragged - blade different from the other two, but Kidd assumed the same wielder seeing as the three marks met together perfectly.
That was the worse of it - the execrable of the cuts without the ribs there to keep it from being too deep, where the heaviest of the bleeding was still flowing too quick for Kidd's liking. Try as he might, the kimono refused to tear into nice strips, resulting in the worse first aid Kidd had ever given, tearing the bloodied sleeve off at the seams and folding it over the juncture of lacerations.
He'd made to untie the robe - to use the sash as a wrap when Killer's laughing pitched wild again, and Kidd had to stop in fear he'd hurt him. It was the madness that Kidd had first heard upon his last escape, the hysterical edge of a man lost in his head. Killer was laughing so hard Kidd wasn't sure he was breathing, gasping for air only for it to tumble right back off his lips. He went boneless in Kidd's hold, head tipped back to cackle at the sky.
Kidd had to drop everything to keep Killer from flinging himself over onto his back, to hold him up and steady as he... sobbed.
Killer was sobbing again, not the frustrated tears from before, but mindlessly, madness-consumed bawling. The ugly cry you felt when your heart was ripped out, and Kidd hadn't seen it since they found Victoria. Kidd loosing his own arm hadn't invoked such a response, and Kidd could only pull Killer to himself and hold on for dear life as his friend was again consumed with laughter.
Any comforting hand Kidd tried to lay on his friend just pitched the laughs higher, and Kidd could do little more than just hold Killer close - feel his life bleeding out between them as the man had a full blown panic attack in his arms.
Killer was shaking against him, his skin clammy and cold, and Kidd didn't know if it was shock or the panic attack, and he was starting to have to fight his own rising panic as the laughter went on. He got Killer into his lap at one point, pressed up against him, chest to chest Kidd's thin vest now soaked in blood, and pulled his own coat out from where he'd initially sat Killer on it. He wrapped Killer in it, and tucked his second under his chin, and held tightly as Killer lost his mind.
It wasn't so much that he calmed down as he just lacked the energy to keep going. Killer fell quiet against Kidd eventually, gasping little giggles still coursing though him occasionally, but unable to do much more. When Kidd sat him back, he barely looked conscious; awake but no one home. It wasn't just his lipstick tinting his lips now, a blue smudge there and around his eyes and darkening his fingers.
Kidd cursed, worried he'd let the bleeding go on to long, and eased his coat off of Killer.
The man made no avouchment of it, bare chested before him, skin taking on a pale bruising shade. Kidd removed the obi quickly this time, the kimono sleeves pressed against the worse of the injury. "Killer, I need you to lift your arms."
Killer didn't move, didn't so much as blink in acknowledgement. Kidd tried to get him to hold his arms up with no help.
"Damnit Killer - work with me, please?"
When he still got no response, he angrily removed one of his own belts, doubling it around the both of Killer's wrists. Having never seen it before, he missed the look of betrayal that pinched Killer's eyebrows as he was stripped and then bound.
Kidd pulled Killer back into his lap so he could pulled his bound arms over his own head, the belt resting at the back of Kidd's neck. Killer's arms now out of his way, Kidd held the folded sleeve and obi end in his good hand and wearily wove the obi around Killer's torso with his makeshift one - the space too narrow for comfort, but the best Kidd could so at the moment. He wrapped it as tight as he dared, covering the worse of the cuts before belting the whole mess in with his second belt.
When he'd awkwardly reached down one handed to pull the second belt off, he noticed then that the bastards hadn't even afforded Killer small clothes under this get up, only the wrapping around his limbs, leaving him otherwise further exposed. He had to push that indignant rage down to see to his partner here and now, but it smoldered in the back of his mind.
Killer was one of the smartest people Kidd knew. One of the most capable, and was deadly enough to rightfully earn his name. He was also one of the most self-conscious people Kidd have ever met, someone deeply uncomfortable with the way he looked and sounded to other people, no matter how much Kidd tried to reassure him otherwise. Kidd prided himself on a crew that gave zero fucks on what other people thought about them, and a crew that was open to dressing and acting however they felt was right for them. And if that meant that his second felt most comfortable not being seen then that was just proof to Kidd that Killer was exactly where he meant to be. No one on his crew was ever going to try and get him to change against his wishes.
So to see him stripped off all his armour and paraded around in this flimsy get up for the amusement of Kaido and his pawn monarch Orachi made Kidd want to burn the whole island down around the old bastard. Once he was sure the bandages would stay put, Kidd pulled Killer's arms down from where they were wrapped behind him, and freed his wrists from the belt.
Killer looked at him finally then, but Kidd wasn't done.
He sat back, pulling his own boots off, before working his pants off from under his war kilt. He was annoyed for maybe the first time at how short the piece was - it was less a garment for Kidd as an added layer of padding and protection from his own devil fruit powers. But he'd march bare ass across this country at this point if he had too, thrusting his pants at Killer.
"Look - I am aware you think it's the ugliest thing on the planet, but guess what buddy - you're wearing them today."
Killer just looked at him baffled.
Kidd faltered; there was a good deal of Killer's blood all over the ground right now. "If you.. I can.. Can you put them on yourself, or do you want help? Can you stand?"
Killer gently took the ugly print from him, studying it for a moment, before looking at Kidd like he'd just noticed he was there. "K...Kidd?" Maybe he had.
It was the first thing Kidd had heard him say since Kaido showed up at their base. Killer's last words had been shouting a warning to look out before Apoo had stepped aside to let Killer take a blow to the face from Kaido.
Kidd offered him a smile, "Hey aibou.. you with me?"
Killer could only smile, but his eyebrows pinched in confusion; he chuckled, "I.. yeah.. Where?"
Kidd shook his head, gesturing to the pants, "Get dressed, we're going home."
Killer slid his bare feet into the pant legs, and letting the kimono fall away when he stood to pull them up. He wasn't looking at Kidd then; whose face twisted to rage when he saw he hand shaped bruises on his hips and inside his thighs. Turning away, Kidd busied himself pulling his boots back on so not to be caught gawking of the offending marks someone had left on his partner.
Killer slipped the sandals back on, and made to reach for the remains of the kimono, when Kidd stood up and drug his coat back up around Killer's shoulders, tugging it snug over his crudely bandaged torso. He held the belt he'd used on Killer's hands out to him as a peace offering. Killer shook his head, lower face buried in the fur collar, "You better keep it," he whispered between giggles, voice rough, "No way your kilt stays up without it."
Kidd offered a smile of his own before belting back up.
"You look ridiculous," Killer chuckled at him, and yeah, Kidd could admit he probably did. But this laugh almost sounded like Killer might have meant it and Kidd would take any win he could right now. "I feel ridiculous. Lets get out of here before someone sees us."
Killer looked around - as if looking for this someone Kidd spoke of- before some spark of recognition crossed his face. He gestured back to the direction they'd initially been walking in and Kidd motioned for him to lead the way.
"Home's this way" Killer whispered, and Kidd followed.
