Captured - with ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peace_inthe_violence & nickysnotmybf
Paris felt like a breath of fresh air after Marseille. The trip had healed him but it was still the most emotionally draining thing he'd done in years. Booker felt weirdly heavier and lighter. It was just a weird state of being that he didn't really like but would have to live with.
He was almost so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice his apartment door open without needing keys. Almost. Booker drew his gun and stepped in, ready to shoot whatever asshole thought he had stuff worth stealing. He froze. The woman he dreamed of drowning at the bottom of the ocean was there.
And then she kicked his ass. He didn't expect her to spring at him like a snake or tear into him so viciously. Booker fought for his life but she beat him down and then he was dead.
He wasn't dead in a trunk a few minutes later. Even though he kicked and fought to escape this was a serious trunk, almost like it was specifically designed to keep in a two hundred year old warrior.
Quyhn took him to a warehouse and secured him with heavy chain to a wall. All she wanted was help finding Andy. Booker refused. That got him another ass kicking. She asked again and he refused. Whatever she wanted from Andy it couldn't be good. He had betrayed them all once. He wouldn't do it again.
Booker realized he was bait about two days into being her prisoner. She stopped asking for his help and just made sure he suffered.
Finally, someone was treating him like he deserved. Booker settled into the pain as he tried to focus on how to escape. Very hard to do when he was chained to the wall with heavy iron manacles but a man could hope.
He was almost so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice his apartment door open without needing keys. Almost. Booker drew his gun and stepped in, ready to shoot whatever asshole thought he had stuff worth stealing. He froze. The woman he dreamed of drowning at the bottom of the ocean was there.
And then she kicked his ass. He didn't expect her to spring at him like a snake or tear into him so viciously. Booker fought for his life but she beat him down and then he was dead.
He wasn't dead in a trunk a few minutes later. Even though he kicked and fought to escape this was a serious trunk, almost like it was specifically designed to keep in a two hundred year old warrior.
Quyhn took him to a warehouse and secured him with heavy chain to a wall. All she wanted was help finding Andy. Booker refused. That got him another ass kicking. She asked again and he refused. Whatever she wanted from Andy it couldn't be good. He had betrayed them all once. He wouldn't do it again.
Booker realized he was bait about two days into being her prisoner. She stopped asking for his help and just made sure he suffered.
Finally, someone was treating him like he deserved. Booker settled into the pain as he tried to focus on how to escape. Very hard to do when he was chained to the wall with heavy iron manacles but a man could hope.
no subject
She might not know the world anymore, but she knew them.
"A month? I'm sorry, mio amico. I should have checked in sooner." He kept the words quiet, but he didn't murmur them. He wasn't trying to hide them from his husband, nor did he hide the way he reached out to grip the Frenchmen's shoulder. "I will leave you two to talk. You are not to leave while I'm cooking. I have new rules for you."
He gave Booker's arm a light squeeze, then turned to face his husband. "Let me worry about food, Zawj. Do not kill him too harshly. I'll bring out tea when it is done." He didn't try for a kiss, just a light touch to Joe's chest before he was pulling off his own gear and heading to take a look at what he could scrape together from the contents of the long unused kitchen.
I'm sooooorryyyyyyyy I swear work is the worssssst
Most of him, however, was hopeful and proud despite himself because, after all that, Booker had given Quynh nothing. Not even the slightest sliver of information. And he was telling the truth as much as Joe could tell from how Quynh treated him. It was a good step. Hope that Booker might be growing up a bit.
Joe looked over at Nicky and considered: was this what he'd been doing all this time? Was this what he'd been trying to ensure? He wasn't sure if that made it better but it didn't make it any worse. For once, that seemed like enough.
"Andy and Nile are likely on their way," he reminded the room. He pulled out his cellphone and tossed it to Booker. "Send them a message that gets them clear of this place and Quynh. You know the layout the best, I would think." And he was also the best and fastest at texting, save Nile. "We need to make sure Andy stays far away until we figure out more."
He glanced at Booker and then over at Nicky before moving his gaze back.
"And we need to keep you with us for the time being, I think." He didn't sound thrilled about it but what else was there to do?
Dude, I know those feels. No worries! Tag when you can. No pressure.
"I don't have to stay. She can't dream of me anymore to find me." Booker could vanish into the wild and not be heard from for years if he wanted. "But I think she has help. She can't know this much about the world without help."
And he didn't know who that help was but it only made sense. Someone had to help her out of the water. Someone had to help get her to Paris. Someone had to help her find him.
"I'll make that call." Booker knew Joe meant a text message but the chance to hear Andy's voice again was too much temptation. He turned away with the phone and called Andy.
She didn't agree with staying away but luckily he had Nile on his side. She agreed that Andy needed to hide instead of facing Quynh. They'd come up with another place to meet up soon.
<3
He sipped at his tea and sat back, looking at Nicky instead of at Booker. His blunt nails tapped against the mug.
"The only way we got you out of that place was with Nicky. We just can't take her on alone. Throw mortal Andy into it and the more fragmented we are, the more likely we all end up holding hands in a cage at the bottom of the ocean."
He sipped his tea again, stood up, and walked off to double-check the doors were all locked. Over his shoulder he threw out the parting words:
"Until this is over, you're with us."
no subject
At least he had enough sense now to ignore that thought. It wasn't helpful and even he knew it was stupid.
"Until this is over," he echoed with a small nod of his head and then looked away. Those words meant a lot and Booker needed a moment to compose himself.
He wasn't quite home like before but it was closer than he deserved after his mistake. Booker was grateful, so damn grateful. Now it was just a matter of figuring out how they dealt with another immortal hell bent on killing one of them.
"I'll, uh, get a shower then." Because he was a mess of dirt and dried blood. He needed that. Then food and rest if he was going to be useful to his family.