Two Wolves - 10/19
Jun. 9th, 2011 06:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xantheficBy Xanthe
Chapter Four: Cry, Wolf
The place seems eerie and empty without the fighters. Usually Tony spends the day in the gym, helping Gibbs, talking to the other fighters, and, when the equipment is free, doing a workout himself, just to get some exercise and alleviate the boredom.
Today, instead of that, Ellis escorts him back towards the hallway where the stalls are located. He nods his head at Tony’s stall, and Tony walks inside, wondering if he’s going to be locked up here all day and all night, and if he can stand the boredom of that.
Ellis leaves the door open, which is different at least, and Tony hears him walking off down the hallway to the chair at the end where the guards spend the night shift. A few seconds later, the radio blares out.
Tony figures it’s at least as dull for Ellis as it is for him. Ellis might have a gun and the opportunity to wear clothes, but he’s still just got to sit there, bored brainless, doing nothing all day. Maybe there’s a chance he can get the man talking and try and build some kind of bond with him. He knows Gibbs dislikes Ellis more than all the other guards, but it’s worth a try.
“Hey.” Tony stands in the doorway to his stall, leaning against the thin, metal partitioning. Ellis looks up and glares at him. “So, did you ever see the movie ‘The Great Escape’?” Tony asks, ignoring the less than welcoming reception. “See, Steve McQueen is the cooler king – they keep locking him up in the cooler, and he just sits there and throws a ball against the wall and catches it, over and over again. I wish I had a ball right now.”
Ellis just continues giving him that dark glare, clearly discouraging his attempts at conversation.
“I get it. You wish you were at the fight. Me too.” Tony shrugs. “But I guess someone has to stay behind to mind the ranch.”
“You wouldn’t last five minutes in the pit, pussy boy,” Ellis tells him. “I saw you last week, fluttering your eyelashes at Leroy and slobbering all over him out there. Made me sick. You’re a fucking fag, Tony.”
Tony fights down the cold, steely anger. “Watching two guys having sex makes you sick but watching one guy raping another is okay?”
“Getting fucked is the price for losing, but you turned it into a fucking fag-fest.”
“Oh, I get it. It’s okay as long as it’s rape. You want it nice and brutal. What we did out there last Fight Night looked too much like we might have been enjoying it, is that it?”
Ellis gives a nasty grin, and Tony immediately wishes Gibbs was here to head-slap him for letting this guy get to him.
“I was right – you are a fucking fag. You don’t have a clue about fighting, pussy boy. You’re lucky Leroy broke your fingers; you’re too soft for the pit.”
Tony nods pleasantly. “You’re probably right, Ellis.” No point giving this asshole any excuse to shove the butt of his gun into his face again. That pissed off Gibbs enough last time, and he doesn’t want to make their lives any harder than they already are.
He hears a low, soft moan from the stall with the injured fighter – the one Hurrell took down last Fight Night.
“How’s he doing?” he asks, changing the subject.
“How the hell should I know?”
“Would it be okay if I looked in on him?”
“Knock yourself out.” Ellis shrugs.
Tony walks along the hallway and goes into the stall where the injured man is lying on a mattress on the floor. The poor bastard looks even worse than before; his brown skin is a strange greeny-white colour, and his breathing is laboured.
Tony kneels down beside him, and the man opens his eyes and blinks at him a few times.
“Hey, how you doing?” There’s a plastic cup of water by the man’s head but his lips are chapped and parched. By the smell in the room, Tony is guessing that he’s soiled himself. “Are you thirsty?” Tony presses the cup to the man’s lips, and he takes a few sips. “You got a name, buddy?” Tony asks.
The man’s lips move but if he makes any sound, Tony can’t hear it. He leans in close.
“Rajul…Patel,” the man whispers.
“Hey, Rajul. I’m Tony.”
Rajul gives him a faded smile. He reaches up and beckons Tony close so he can whisper into his ear again.
“Tell my mom…so she knows what happened to me.”
“You can tell her yourself, when you get out of here,” Tony says firmly.
Rajul’s eyes are hazy, but he manages to shake his head. “No. Tell her I love her. Love her so much.”
Tony fights down another surge of anger. So many lives are being so pointlessly ruined and for what? So that a baying mob can be entertained every Fight Night? He supposes it’s the same mentality that people have at dogfights and cockfights. The people who attend aren’t indifferent to suffering – they attend because it’s what they want. They actively crave it and seek it out.
“I’m sorry, Rajul. I have no idea what these sick bastards get from watching people tear each other apart in the pit, but I’m sorry you got caught up in their twisted little game.”
“It has a long history.” Rajul smiles at him. “Bear baiting…gladiators…public hangings. I have thought about it often. Our world is modern…but our hungers are ancient. People like to watch cruelty in action…”
“Some people,” Tony says firmly. “*Some* people, Rajul.”
“There is darkness in us all. Have you never slowed down to look at a car wreck by the side of the road, Tony?”
Tony sighs. “I hear you, Rajul, but this is a whole different level of dark.”
“The human heart is both dark and light.” Rajul smiles. “It is for each of us to decide which weaknesses and temptations he gives in to, I think.”
“The wolf you feed,” Tony says softly. Rajul gives him a puzzled look. “Just a story Sam…a friend told me.” He winces slightly, remembering it was Hurrell who did this to Rajul, in retaliation for what Walid did to Steve. Actions and consequences, like so many dominos knocking into each other. Where will it end?
Rajul is clearly an educated, intelligent man who has given the nature of their situation a lot of thought.
“How did you come to be here, Rajul?” Tony asks quietly.
“History major…college…boxing…” Rajul is clearly fading.
“You’re still at college? You made a name for yourself on the varsity boxing team – that’s how they heard about you?” Tony guesses.
“Yes. I chased after vain glories and look at where it has got me.” Rajul gives a wistful little smile. “Tony…please.” Rajul grabs his hand. “My mother…she lives in Washington DC. She will be so worried about me. Please tell her my last thoughts were for her. I love her so much. Promise me you will tell her this.”
“I promise, Rajul,” Tony says quietly, squeezing his hand gently.
Rajul nods but seems unable to speak anymore. Tony pulls Rajul’s blanket back a little way and sees a large, dark bruise on his abdomen; he’s clearly bleeding internally.
Tony gets up and goes to the door. “This man is very ill,” he tells Ellis. “He needs urgent medical treatment.”
“Yeah?” Ellis grins at him. “Well, he isn’t gonna get it.”
“Are you really that callous, Ellis? There’s a man dying in there, and you’re just going to stand by and let that happen?”
“If he hadn’t been such a pussy in the pit, he’d be fine.” Ellis shrugs.
“It’s that simple? Survival of the fittest?”
“Oh, you don’t have any idea, pussy boy!”
“Do you even know his name? He’s called Rajul Patel. He’s studying history at college. He’s a real person, Ellis.”
“That so?” Ellis stands up, and Tony holds his breath. “Is Leroy fucking you?” Ellis asks unexpectedly.
“What?”
“I think he is. What makes you so special, Tony? He never fucked any of the others.”
“What the hell does it matter if he’s fucking me or not?”
“It matters because you’re turning him into a pussy like you,” Ellis snaps. “Frank says you’ve gotta be in the gym when he’s training so he can keep an eye on you, and he says I’m not allowed to lay a fucking finger on you in case it upsets Leroy.” He spits on the floor in disgust. “You’re a fag, and you’re turning him into a fucking fag too.”
“Seriously? There’s a man dying in there and this is the conversation you want to have right now?”
Ellis glances into the stall at Rajul and then a big smile creases up his face. He turns back, and the expression in his eyes is so ugly that Tony feels a cold shiver creeping up his spine.
“I think we should give you a taste of what it feels like to win in the pit,” Ellis says.
“What do you mean?”
“I think you’re a big pussy who likes to take it up the ass. Bet your dick doesn’t even work. Bet you can’t get even get it up. Let’s see if I’m right.”
He pushes the barrel of his gun against the side of Tony’s head and forces him back into the stall, shutting the door behind them.
“Let’s see you get it up, Tony.”
“What?”
Ellis grins. “Jerk off, spank the monkey, have a wank; let’s see if ya have the balls for it.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m bored, and you’re here, and you think you’re so fucking better than me…and because I wanna have some fun.” He gives a big grin.
“This is stupid. Rajul needs help, and you want me to sit here jerking off?”
“You calling me stupid?”
“No, I’m just saying…” Tony pauses, trying to figure a way out of this situation. “Look, Ellis, I don’t want to do this.”
“Aw, you don’t wanna do it! Poor little Tony! Let’s see what you do without big, bad Leroy here to protect you.”
“I don’t need Leroy to protect me!”
“Dontcha?” Ellis gives another of those leering grins. “I think you do. I think you’re his bitch. So let’s see if that dick of yours actually works, pussy boy. Let’s see you get hard.”
Tony feels an angry heat rising to his face. “No. I’m not a performing monkey, and I’m not going to jerk off just because you tell me to.”
“Yeah, you are.” Ellis strides over to Rajul and places his gun against the sick man’s head. “This is what it feels like to be a winner in the pit on Fight Night, when you have to get it up or someone dies,” he says, an ugly gleam in his eyes. “Now, I wanna see you cream all over your fingers. So jerk yourself off, or I pull the trigger.”
The scent of the sawdust and the roar of the crowd seem more vivid than ever tonight. Gibbs watches through the bars of the holding pen as the fight before his ends. Usually, Gibbs is in his pre-fight headspace and only notices them peripherally, but tonight he’s not in that headspace; he has too many other concerns.
Tony once likened Walid to a cobra, and he's right. If Walid had a pit-name, then 'Cobra' would be it. Gibbs knows the game Walid is playing. He wouldn’t put poison in his drink, but playing mind games with his main competitor to throw him off his stride is much more his style. Walid is fighting as dirty as Gibbs fights in the pit, and, for the first time, Gibbs realizes who his real adversary is.
It isn’t the poor bastards he fights out there in the pit every week. It isn’t Ellis, back at the stable, doing God knows what to Tony right now, and it isn’t Scott, with his stupid fat face and his delusions of grandeur. It isn’t even Liam McIntyre – the fireman – the fighter everyone expects Gibbs to do battle with in the final. It’s none of them.
No, his true opponent is Walid, and he’s been an idiot not to realize it before. Ultimately, this contest is between the wolf and the cobra, and the cobra just made his next move. Last week, his move was to throw Tony into the pit against him. This week, it’s calling Gibbs out just before his fight in order to get into his head and destroy his focus.
Walid set up this entire tournament. He has all his pride and money invested in winning, and McIntyre is his chosen instrument for that triumph. Walid has been watching Gibbs in the pit for months now, and with each passing week it has become clear to him that the one man standing between him and his ultimate victory is Gibbs.
Walid knows that Scott isn’t his main adversary. He despises Scott’s greed and stupidity and no doubt rejected him as a serious opponent a long time ago. Walid wants a more worthy adversary, and that’s what he sees in Gibbs.
Gibbs could kick himself for taking so long to figure this out. Walid is playing a cold, calculated game of chess, moving his players into place, piece by piece.
The real fight doesn’t take place in the pit every Fight Night. The real fight takes place on a completely different battlefield, but that fight is every bit as dirty and the competition much more formidable than he ever imagined.
A wild cheer goes up from the crowd as the man he’s going to fight in the pit tonight is released from his pen. Gibbs can tell by the loudness of the cheers that he’s facing a popular fighter.
“Go-ri-lla, Go-ri-lla…” goes the chant.
“Tonight, ladies and gentleman, we have a unique fight in store for you,” the commentator announces in his usual tones of over-the-top excitement. “A gorilla versus a wolf!”
The crowd goes absolutely insane at that and a new chant goes up: “WOLFMAN! WOLFMAN! WOLFMAN!”
The doors to his holding pen are opened, and Gibbs charges out into the pit to be met by a wall of sound. It’s so deafening it almost overwhelms him for a moment. His popularity with the crowd has been growing week on week, but after his fight against Tony last week it seems to have reached epic proportions.
Last Fight Night, Tony turned the brutal post-fight rutting into an act of tenderness. He kissed and caressed Gibbs, shocking the crowd into silence. Afterwards, Gibbs broke his fingers, and he’s pretty sure that the crowd interpreted that as an act of retaliation towards Tony for not playing by the rules. The crowd now loves the wolfman both for his brutality and for putting the newbie in his place. They have no idea that he broke Tony’s fingers to keep him out of the pit and spare him this ordeal.
Now, it would appear, he has become a legend, and the crowd’s chants turn into an awed silence as he prowls around the edge of the pit, sizing up his opponent.
He can see why they’ve given him the name ‘Gorilla’. He’s not particularly tall, but he’s squat, with brawny shoulders and arms, and extremely hairy. Gibbs finds himself looking at the man’s face, straight into his dark brown eyes…and he catches himself. Usually, he focuses on assessing his opponent’s fighting prowess but tonight he’s distracted, and he can’t afford to let himself get distracted in the pit.
He tries to concentrate, and to figure out what his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses might be. The crowd is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. He can feel their eyes on him, watching his every move, and that’s wrong too. He shouldn’t be this aware of them. He shouldn’t be aware of anything but his opponent right now.
Tanner gave him a shot of something half an hour ago, and he can feel his heart racing and a familiar sense of anger rising up inside. This is his place, his moment, and his chance to right so many old wrongs. He has killed Hernandez and the drunk driver who took his mother from him countless times in this pit. Tonight, he thinks of Steve and of Prince Freak up there who killed him and who lords it over this sick tournament like some dark and twisted emperor.
Gibbs can’t help himself. He glances up at the stands and sees Walid sitting on his throne, stroking his neat little goatee beard with his fingers. Walid sees him looking and inclines his head towards him, acknowledging him as his opponent with a vicious little smile.
The gorilla takes advantage of his lapse in concentration and throws himself at Gibbs, succeeding in bringing him down to the ground. Gibbs kicks out savagely, slamming his opponent in the balls until he howls with pain and lets him go.
Damn it. Gibbs gets to his feet and skips out of reach, kicking himself mentally. He can’t afford to be distracted. He must focus.
The gorilla lumbers to his feet and pursues him around the pit. He isn’t fast – Gibbs is much faster and more agile – but he has a certain brute strength, and Gibbs senses a wily cunning.
Gibbs feints a left, then ducks around the gorilla, jamming his elbow into the man’s kidneys. He can do cunning too.
The gorilla is angry, and he lets out a roar of intent. The crowd, as one, seems to lean forward in their seats, spellbound by the contest.
The gorilla is the hardest opponent he’s ever fought – but they’re reaching the closing stages of the tournament so that’s hardly surprising. The summer is over and there is a definite chill in the air now. In a few weeks’ time the fighting season will finish – and what happens then? Tony’s broken fingers should keep him out for the rest of the season if…if Tony survives that long.
The thought of Tony being alone with Ellis preys on his mind. It reminds him of when Ellis took Tony out to clean the stalls and unload the supply truck. He wasn’t able to focus all day because of that and put in his worst training time ever. Supposing he allows the same thing to happen now?
The unthinkable hits him. All this time he’s been worrying about what might happen to Tony. Now, for the first time, he realizes he should be worrying about what will happen to him.
Maybe this is the night he loses and has to succumb to the ultimate degradation of being raped out here by this hairy-assed gorilla of a man.
Maybe this is the night the wolfman goes down.
Tony looks at Rajul, who looks back at him from wide, dark eyes.
Ellis digs the gun into the injured man’s temple. “What’s it to be, pussy boy? Are you gonna wank for me, or do I paint the wall with the Paki’s brains?”
Tony grabs his cock and desperately tries to think of his favourite jerk-off fantasies. They usually involve either Jennifer Lopez, because fundamentally he’s an ass man, or Leroy Jethro Gibbs, because when he’s going gay it has to be with a real man and not a twink. He’s never been attracted to twinks.
He closes his eyes, leans back against the wall, and thinks about Gibbs’s ass. He’s been looking at it enough this past week, and it’s a damn fine ass. It’s hard and tight, and he wonders what it’d be like to slide his cock into it and make Gibbs scream with pleasure.
The idea of reducing Gibbs to helpless moans during love-making is a definite turn on, and he feels his cock start to harden.
“Whoa! Pussy boy has a man’s dick after all!” Ellis says, breaking into the fantasy. His cock wilts as he loses focus. He needs to concentrate; Rajul’s life depends on it.
“Shut up,” he snaps, opening his eyes.
Ellis winks at him. “Aw, look at it. Does it only work under certain conditions? How do you think it’ll be in the pit, Tony? You think your dick will work out there, with everyone screaming at ya?”
“If I get the same drugs as everyone else…”
Ellis roars with laughter. “Aw! Pussy boy’s dick only works when he’s on drugs! You’re not a man, Tony; you’re a useless fucking fag who can’t get it up.”
He reaches out and, with casual brutality, backhands Rajul across the jaw. The injured man makes no sound. His head snaps sideways and then slowly rolls back again, and he gazes at Tony with pity and resignation in his eyes.
“Do not blame yourself, Tony,” Rajul wheezes. “You are a good man.”
Tony grabs his cock again, determined to obey Ellis’s insane demands and save Rajul’s life. This place makes them all complicit in its evil: Hurrell, Gibbs, and now himself. They all sacrifice little pieces of themselves to protect their essential core, but how much do they lose in the process? Is it worth protecting, or is it valueless by the time everything around it is dark and rotten, corrupted by the evil that pervades every single aspect of this place?
He remembers night times with Gibbs, alone in their stall. It’s the only time he experiences real intimacy with the man – not during the hand jobs but in their aftermath, when Gibbs allows himself to be held. That’s the only time Gibbs will open up even a little and actually talk to him. He’s not surprised; Gibbs never was exactly great at talking.
He remembers the feel of Gibbs’s hard, pulsing cock in his hand. Tony has often wondered what it would be like to take it in his mouth and explore it properly. He’s already felt it in his ass, but that situation was just about hurt and humiliation, no matter how much they both tried to alleviate the worst of it.
If he was alone with Gibbs, somewhere fancy – a hotel maybe – he’d take him to bed, take his time, and make love to him slowly…
His cock is hard, and he rubs it purposefully. He can do this! He thrusts into his hand, thinking about Gibbs and what it would be like to feel Gibbs gently pushing inside his body, making love, not fucking. No pit, no sawdust in his hair, no crowd of gawking spectators. Just the two of them…
“You thinkin’ dirty thoughts about Leroy?” Ellis whispers in his ear.
Tony jumps, startled. He was so engrossed he hadn’t heard Ellis moving towards him. Ellis stands in front of him, looking down on his erection, and it immediately starts to wilt again.
“That the best you can do?” Ellis sneers.
Tony tries to get back into the mood, imagining rolling over on top of Gibbs, and now it’s his turn to slide into Gibbs’s open body, and Gibbs is so relaxed, so responsive, and it feels so good to thrust into all that tight heat…
“Shoot, or he dies, Tony,” Ellis whispers ominously into his ear. Tony whacks his hand frantically up and down his semi-erect cock. “You’ve got thirty seconds. You don’t cream by then, this sucker takes a bullet for you. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”
Tony looks at Rajul who looks back at him with that same weary, resigned look in his eyes.
“Tony, I am dying anyway. Do not have this on your conscience – it is not your fault,” Rajul tells him.
“Eighteen, seventeen, sixteen…”
“You’re not going to die,” Tony says stubbornly, working away at his cock, trying desperately to reach climax.
“Ten, nine, eight…”
Tony bucks up into his hand, feeling his climax close…so close… He imagines Gibbs growling into his ear while he thrusts his hard cock into him, over and over again…
“Four…three…”
He comes. His come spurts out over his fingers in little bursts, and Tony leans back against the wall in relief.
“Well done, pussy boy. Well done.”
Ellis grins at him, and then he turns, points the gun at Rajul’s head, and pulls the trigger. Rajul’s head explodes in a flash of red, his blood spurting out over Tony, mingling with the come on his hands.
“You fucking bastard…why did you do that? I did what you said! I did what you fucking well said!” Tony sobs, shaking uncontrollably with shock and outrage.
“Like he said, he was dying. I’d have shot him later anyway. Might as well do it now.” Ellis shrugs. He glances at the blood-stained stall, and at Tony’s come-covered fingers. “Now clear up this fucking mess, pussy boy.”
Something bad is happening to Tony; Gibbs can feel it in his gut. He wishes he could block Tony out of his thoughts, but he can’t. Whenever he tries to stop thinking about him, the anxiety just comes back ten times stronger.
The crowd is cheering, screaming out obscenities and urging him to fight harder.
Gibbs makes a mistake. He feints left but doesn’t follow through fast enough. The gorilla grabs him around the waist, sinking his fist into Gibbs’s ribs over and over again. Gibbs elbows back, getting the man in his ample belly. The gorilla growls and lets go.
That was a stupid, rookie mistake. If Tony had made it, he’d have slapped him stupid. Damn it, what will Scott do when he finds out about the lie? Does he already know?
Some of the crowd, fickle as ever, have gone over to the gorilla’s side.
“Wolfman’s going down, down, down! Gonna take a beating, Wolfman! Gonna take a fucking, Wolfman!”
Gibbs glances up towards Walid again. Scott is sitting with Walid’s entourage, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, gazing down at him intently.
The gorilla leaps on him and throws him into the sawdust. With his weight advantage, if he gets on top of him and lands a few punches then this will be over, and who will be left to protect Tony from Scott’s vengeance then?
He rolls sideways just in time, and the crowd gasps as the gorilla throws himself down onto empty sawdust.
The crowd lapses into a shocked silence. They aren’t used to seeing him this vulnerable. Usually his opponents never get close, and the gorilla is good, but he’s not that good. Under normal circumstances, Gibbs would be beating him easily.
“Come on, Wolfman! You can beat the fucking gorilla!” someone in the crowd yells, but he can hear the uncertainty in the voice.
He has to find a way to do this. He has to stop thinking ahead and focus just on now. That’s always been one of his strengths.
He takes a few seconds to regroup, watching the gorilla carefully. He’s got brute strength and low cunning but not much else. He’s not that smart, and he’s definitely not fast. He’s much younger than Gibbs though – aren’t they all? Gibbs has always relied on wrapping up his fights relatively fast, knowing he loses the advantage the longer they go on. He simply can’t compete with someone two decades his junior in terms of stamina if he lets the fights drag on too long. He has to have swift, decisive victories or he’s lost. He’s already tired, and he’s got bruised ribs and a cut on his forehead that’s dribbling blood into his eye. He has to win soon, or he’ll go down.
He can find the anger, but he can’t keep hold of it; the worry about Tony just gets in his way. He tries to remember Shannon and Kelly, and his mother, but images of Tony alone with Ellis keep haunting him.
A different emotion rises up inside, one that is even more powerful than anger: Protectiveness. If he doesn’t win, then he can’t keep Tony safe. It’s as simple as that. He’s not fighting to avenge the dead anymore; he’s fighting to save the living.
He takes a run at the gorilla, jabs him hard on the jaw and lands a kick to the man’s balls. Then he runs around him as the gorilla blunders to regain his balance. He jumps the man from behind, rams his knee into his ass, kicks the back of his knees away, and forces him to the ground. Now he has him; he can’t afford to lose this advantage.
He goes down with him, jumping on him before he can get up, and lands two hard blows to his jaw. The gorilla roars out his anger and distress, but Gibbs is ruthless and takes no notice. He has Tony to think about; he has to win this for Tony.
The gorilla is pushing up, trying to shove Gibbs off him, and he’s strong…but Gibbs has someone to protect and that makes him stronger.
He fights with all his might, wrestling with the gorilla in the sawdust, ignoring the punches he’s taking and landing his own with clinical precision, knowing how hard to hit and where to make the gorilla stay down. The man’s eyes are already losing focus, and soon he stops flailing and lies back in the sawdust, surrendering to the inevitable.
The referee is coming over, but Gibbs keeps punching until he’s told he’s won. Then he stops immediately and steps back.
He doesn’t acknowledge the crowd’s loud cheers, or their hollering, whistling and celebrating.
Gibbs only cares about one man in the crowd. He glances up at Walid, who smiles down at him, inclining his head in acknowledgement of his victory.
Then Walid turns to Scott and says something to him. Scott leans forward, frowning, and Gibbs realizes Walid only intended to tell him about Tony’s lie if he won. That’s his penalty for winning, for staying in the competition.
He can’t think about it right now; he has one more thing he has to do.
Usually he gets down on his knees and performs this part of the fight without thinking about it, getting the job done as quickly as possible.
This time though, it’s as hard for him to access that part of himself as it was for him to focus on his anger. When he kneels down behind the gorilla, all he can think about is the quiet, gentle intimacy of Tony’s chin resting on his shoulder as he lovingly rubbed his cock with his fingers. All those nights alone together in the stall, with Tony whispering those words of encouragement in his ear. It wasn’t the lonely, angry masturbation he had become accustomed to. It wasn’t the brute force of rutting in the pit with some man whose name he doesn’t even know. Tony gave him something else; something sweet, loving and…human.
Damn it. Tony has somehow humanized him this past week. Gibbs had shut himself down in order to survive, but Tony coaxed him back with his strength, his wit, his loyalty, and his sheer charisma. It’s like waking from a dream to find he’s still living a nightmare; what the hell does he do next?
In the end, he does what he has to do. If he doesn’t, then someone will die, either himself or the man lying in the sawdust in front of him. He finds the strength from somewhere, and for once he thanks Tanner for his damn drugs. He thinks of the sweet curve of Tony’s ass, and the soft warmth of his body pressing into his during the nights they spend alone in the stall, and his cock hardens.
He completes the deed and then withdraws, leaving the gorilla lying in a dazed heap in the sawdust. He gets up, shoots a baleful look up in Walid’s direction, and then stalks back to his holding pen.
As he leaves, he can sense the crowd’s disappointment that he didn’t break anyone’s fingers tonight.
Tony is still shaking as he mops up the blood and brain matter from the stall. It takes a long time before the stall is clean, but he’s glad about that as it gives him time to calm down.
He works for hours, until the stall is sparkling. Then he washes Rajul’s body and wraps it carefully in the blanket; it’s the least he can do for the man.
“I will find your mother, Rajul,” he tells the corpse. “I will let her know that your last thoughts were of her, and I will tell her how much you loved her.”
When he’s finished, he goes cautiously to the door of the stall. Ellis is sitting out there, rocking his chair back on two legs, his feet up on the wall, his radio still blaring out.
“I’d like to go back to my stall now,” Tony says quietly.
Ellis grins at him. “Go ahead, pussy boy.”
Tony walks quickly back to his stall and closes the door. He grabs his blanket, drags his mattress over to the wall, and sits down, his back against the wall, wrapping the blanket around himself.
He wants Gibbs back. He wants to know he’s safe, and that he survived out there. He wants to put his arms around him and hold him for as long as Gibbs will let him. He needs the sheer human comfort of another person’s gentle touch. How has Gibbs kept people at arm’s length all this time? Tony suddenly has all the more sympathy for Sam and all the more admiration for Gibbs. He can see why Matt and Greg turned to each other and clung on so desperately. This place is brutal.
Tony has been here for one week. Gibbs has endured five months of this, fighting week after week in the pit, fucking week after week in the pit. Is he doing that now? Is he out there, fucking some hapless loser right now?
Tony could barely make himself come with an audience of two…how the hell does Gibbs do it? The drugs must help, but what must it do to your soul to go through that every week?
Tony never, ever wants to know what it’s like. He nurses his broken fingers to his chest, thankful beyond belief for what Gibbs did for him last week, back in the pit.
Gibbs is chained up as usual and escorted back to the truck. He can see Scott walking across the grass towards him, his fat belly straining at the edges of his white shirt, jiggling as he walks. He’s angry; Gibbs can see that. He’s furious.
Scott strides towards him, reaches him, and smacks an angry fist across his jaw without pausing. Gibbs’s hands are chained to his waist, so he has no way of breaking his fall, and he falls down onto the grass on his side. He can feel the cut from where Scott’s ring caught on his face, and the warm flow of blood on his skin.
“You lied to me, Leroy.” Scott crouches down beside him, and his little piggy eyes are mean and dark. “Tony DiNardo is Tony DiNozzo. You pretended you didn’t know him, but you’ve been working with him for the past ten years. He’s your right hand man, your second in command. He’s one of your closest friends. And you lied to me!” He sounds genuinely hurt.
Gibbs lies on his side, saying nothing. There’s nothing to say.
“Damn it, Leroy!” Scott rocks back on his heels. “I liked you! I liked you, and you lied to me.”
“So? You throw me into that pit every week. Why the hell do I owe you any kind of truth, Scott?”
“I’m angry.” Scott heaves himself to his feet and looks down on Gibbs with a petulant expression in his eyes. “I’m really very angry and disappointed about this, Leroy. There will be repercussions.”
Gibbs is unsurprised to hear it. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Walid lurking nearby with his entourage, a cool little smile on his smug, handsome features.
“I think,” Scott muses, “That it’s time for your precious Tony to experience what it’s like in the pit, don’t you, Leroy?”
Gibbs’s stomach does a sick flip. “His fingers are broken…”
Scott kicks him hard on the leg, and he shuts up. Scott looks down on him, a spiteful expression on his face, like a child getting his hands on someone else’s candy.
“Oh yes, his fingers. I see now that you broke them to keep him out of the pit. No doubt that’ll be a big disadvantage to him when I put him back out there next week.”
“You can’t do that, Scott!”
“Yes I can, Leroy. I own you, and I own him, and I say that he’ll fight in the pit next week. Prince Walid suggested it, and he’s right; it’s a fitting punishment for your deception.”
With that, he puffs out his chest and turns and stalks back towards the pit.
Walid wanders over, still smiling that cool, cruel smile. He takes off his sunglasses and looks down on Gibbs, a pitying expression on his face.
“Ah, Jethro, how sad. It looks like you are going to lose your dear, loyal boy. You know, as a special treat for him, I think I’ll arrange for him to face Mac in the pit next week. It seems fitting – the fireman versus the wolfman’s boy. It’ll mean Mac fighting twice, as he already has a fight scheduled, but I doubt Tony will cause him to break into a sweat. In fact, he’ll be a nice little warm-up for Mac.” He gives a little chuckle.
“I think, also, that I will arrange for you to watch from a special vantage point next to me, so you can see every single piece of the action. Maybe we’ll even see the wolf cry, hmm? I think I’d like that.” Walid puts his sunglasses back on with another smug smile. “Enjoy your week with Tony, Jethro, for I very much fear it will be your last.”
End of Part Ten
Part Eleven
Friendly feedback adored!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 06:20 am (UTC)*goes to read next part in a desperate frenzy*
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
on Jun. 9th, 2011 07:59 am (UTC)Loved the part where Gibbs regained his strength by using the protectiveness for Tony to get into the right headspace to win the fight.
And Ellis deserves a slow and painful death. *is evil*
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
on Jun. 9th, 2011 08:13 am (UTC)I don't know if I can stay healthy mindhealthy while I read this. Great written intense fic. Thanks Xanthe!
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
on Jun. 9th, 2011 12:46 pm (UTC)I want to smash Ellis', Walid's, Scott's and everyone's skull in.
It's like watching a thriller. You cover your eyes at the scary and brutal parts but you peek out between your fingers anyway. I want to do that too. This anxiety is killing me.
I don't want Tony hurt and I don't want Gibbs hurt. I want them save.
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 01:10 pm (UTC)I really love you likening it to a thriller - I'm so proud of the suspense everyone is feeling!
Don't be anxious though! And do keep reading! You might be surprised *g*
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 01:16 pm (UTC)I think Walid and Scott need to fight each other in the pit! *evil cackle*
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on Jun. 9th, 2011 01:24 pm (UTC)I knew
on Jun. 9th, 2011 02:32 pm (UTC)I also knew as soon as Ellis made his "deal" with Tony about Rajul that he wouldn't honor it but like with the decision that Tony will be forced to fight it didn't make it any easier to read - experience.
Re: I knew
on Jun. 9th, 2011 03:10 pm (UTC)Re: I knew
on Jun. 9th, 2011 05:39 pm (UTC)I have no clue how you're going to punish these people but I can't wait. I only wish the spectators could be brought to justice too.
Now onward with the next segment.
Re: I knew
on Jun. 9th, 2011 06:18 pm (UTC)Re: I knew
on Jun. 9th, 2011 07:06 pm (UTC):-) on reading that the paying customers might get their comeuppance.
Re: I knew
on Jun. 9th, 2011 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
on Jun. 9th, 2011 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
on Jun. 9th, 2011 11:53 pm (UTC)I have been thinking how much of a love story this is. Both Tony and Gibbs have incredible love and loyalty for each other, and would give anything for each other. We see this in the next couple of chapters.
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on Jun. 10th, 2011 01:23 pm (UTC)It IS a huge love story! I hoped people would stick with it long enough to see that :-)
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on Jun. 10th, 2011 12:13 am (UTC)It is soooo graphic!
But I still say it fits well with the story....
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on Jun. 10th, 2011 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
on Jun. 11th, 2011 11:22 pm (UTC)So many levels of not good!
I hate Ellis even more now. Poor Tony and poor Rajul. And now the secret is out and Tony's in the firing line.
On the plus side, if Gibbs wasn't interested in getting out of there before, he'll be pretty keen to get Tony out of there before next fight night... I hope. Is there anything Gibbs can do? Is there any way he can use his status as Scott's best hope for the big time? Scott's angry, but will he see that keeping 'Leroy' sweet will make him more likely to win the tournament?
*eeep*
Laura.
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on Jun. 26th, 2011 10:33 am (UTC)Love your insights about keeping Leroy sweet!
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on Jun. 12th, 2011 04:20 pm (UTC)Omg, I can't even ...
*@#$%^&*!
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on Jun. 26th, 2011 10:34 am (UTC)no subject
on Jul. 24th, 2011 04:33 pm (UTC)What I kept of this chapter was the sadness of a life lost like his was.... And I now totally hate Ellis (I already did but now... it's worse).
Can't we have Ellis placed in a cock fight? So that we can see the cock win and beat his ass? Then the cock would peck Ellis bits (his most prized area) to shred...
Sorry, I fed the dark wolf on that one.... I won't do it again? sheepishly goes back to read more....
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on Jul. 24th, 2011 06:48 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you carried on reading - I know it's a dark story but I think there is redemption - and lots of good people (like Rajul and Sam, as well as Gibbs and Tony) to balance out the evil.