#getting back to posting nonchronologically yall we’re so back

[whumpacabra]

Trap Card

Or AI-less Whumptober 6: Self Sacrifice

Firearm threats, manipulation, manhandling, fear for others’ safety, self sacrifice, drug mention, past trauma, fictional politics

Masterpost / Previous / Next

“I have a problem, Wolfie.”

He froze at the sound of that voice. This wing of the airport was under construction and they were entirely alone. No civilians to get caught in the crossfire. He could do this he could end this fucking nightmare.

“Your problems aren’t mine, agent.” East growled, stalking down the hall with his weapon drawn.

“Hm. Probably not.” Anders turned away from the glass window overlooking the tarmac. Planes were refueling in the hangers across the way - it was possible someone would see them. It was possible no one would. “Your husband fell, by the way.”

“What?” East snarled, rushing to the agent and slamming him against the window, and arm pressed over his throat. “What the hell did you do, bastard?”

“Nothing.” Anders wheezed, glasses knocked askew but his smile still confident as he pulled down East’s arm enough to breathe. “He tripped, on the escalator. Emergency services is taking him to the hospital now. Concussion and broken leg. He’s lucky, for a man his age - ”

“Shut the fuck up and tell me what you did with the ambrosia.” East slammed him against the window again, the sturdy glass holding up. Anders had the fucking gall to actually laugh.

“We both know that sample is contaminated, Wolfie.”

“Don’t call me that.” East’s snarl was venomous, but he almost flinched away from the severity of Anders’ glare.

“You and your…partner tampered with it. Sold us useless product that would take months of testing to discover.” There was a gleam in Anders’ eyes, hungry and confident. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re right.” East smiled, teeth bared in a near-manic grin. “You and your bloody project are shit out of luck.”

“Well, there’s other experimental drugs.” Anders shrugged, smirking up at East. “All that’s left to do here is eliminate anyone involved in the transaction. Can’t be leaving any witnesses, you know how the department is.”

“I’ll break your fucking neck before you make the call - ”

“My partner will see to the…liquidation of your partner, and this little team of yours if I fail to rendezvous at exfil.” He smiled, East’s rage turning to desperate frustration.

“So, what, I just let you go so you can personally kill my husband?”

“And those former CIA agents, and the freelancers, and that civilian family. Can’t be too careful these days.”

“You’re not really selling the ‘letting you walk out of here alive’ option, agent.” East almost hid the waver in his voice. What the hell were his options here? Jackson was the one who planned, who could come up with a solution -

(The Wolf was always meant to be a follower, not a leader. Not alone.)

“Not unless you can get me what I need. Sorry, Wolfie. No hard feelings.“

“There’s no ambrosia - not any stable ambrosia left. There’s - that’s impossible.” East was starting to shake. Panic was setting in as Anders gently pushed him away and stood up straight, adjusting his suit. And East let him.

(Because when had he ever had the strength to stop Anders?)

“Well, there is…some stable ambrosia.” Anders turned his back on Wolf, looking out the window as a plane taxied past.

“Where?”

“Such a good dog, always happy to play fetch.” Anders laughed, but East could only wilt and seethe silently. If all Anders needed to leave Jackson alone was for him to fetch something, East could play the part of a dog. “It’s not where. It’s who.”

“Excuse me?”

“Our lab testing, when we dissected mice and…other test subjects we found that ambrosia is highly conserved in the body. Especially if the subject was chronically exposed to the substance.” Anders leaned against the railing. “The liver is a beautiful organ, filtering out poisons, but very prone to accumulating them.”

“You need a person?” The role of a good dog was looking less appealing by the minute.

“I need you.” Anders straightened and turned, eyes hard and cold. “You were dosed with more ambrosia than any other subject over a longer period of time. You would probably light up like a Christmas tree if we did a scan.”

East processed the information slowly. (Smith never prided his Wolf on being intelligent.) Dread was settling in, but so was a bittersweet hope. If he was gone, and the department had their ambrosia, they would have no reason to hurt Jackson, or anyone else.

“Don’t look so dour, Wolfie, it won’t kill you.” Anders scoffed, patting his shoulder. “Like I said, you’re the perfect subject for an extraction. A biopsy of your liver, just enough for us to get a stable sample, and that’s it.”

“And then?”

“Then you go back to your quaint little cottage in your quaint little English town with your quaint little husband and forget this ever happened.” Anders grinned as he circled East, a shark with blood in the water. “What do you say, Wolfie?”

“…you won’t go after them. Any of them?”

“No. As long as they don’t do something breathtakingly stupid that necessitates their removal.” Anders started walking, and East followed, already on an invisible leash. They made their way down to the subway, the trams empty this time of night. Anders stepped aboard, smirking as East followed.

“I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t like he could think of any other choice.

Masterpost / Previous / Next

(Part of my Freelancers series)

Taglist: @stargeode @sacredwrath @genuineformality