#hope giant chapters aren't a dealbreaker because I seem to have problems with that

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

Cracks. (Defective Series 3)

In a request from @burtlederp for my @badthingshappenbingo​ card, this will be based off of the trope: Lifted by the Neck. (Requested squares are white hearts, completed squares are red hearts. If you want to request any, send an ask with the trope and (optionally) a character of mine to fill it with.)

The previous entry in this series is here. 

Tagging @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ as well, who wanted to see another continuation of this :) Since this will probably be an ongoing series now, anyone can ask to be on a tag list or taken off.

One final announcement! These characters now have names since I’ll be continuing the series. The sister (previously X) is Elle Valencia, and the brother (previously Y) is Jirard Valencia. As for the box boy’s name… well, you’ll just have to read a little further.

By the end of his first training session, the boy had passed out. Jirard figured he pushed it a little too far when it almost lost its voice from screaming near the end, but he had reached his goal. Whether by obedience, delirium, or weakness, his boy had stopped pulling away altogether by the fourth cauterized knife wound. Elle had gotten a little bored when she realized she wouldn’t get to shock him any further, but he promised he’d make it up to her. So, a few days later, he invited her back over.

“What’re you doing, Jirard?” Speaking of his sister, she must have let herself in. He closed the book in his hands and looked over. 

“Just writing in my journal,” he shrugged, setting it aside and standing up.

“Journal, eh? Didn’t know you kept one.”

“I do now: started the other day after you left, actually. It’s mostly to write about the boy and observe his progress. Whumpee Barn is getting a strongly worded letter on the importance of quality control when I find the patience to write it, and I’ll need to remember details. Thus, journal,” he gestured to the book once more before starting down the stairs, waving Elle after him. “Plus, I can’t lie; it’ll be nice to have a window down memory lane when it’s finally properly trained.”

“Speaking of it, did you think of a name yet? Might be easier to train commands into if it has something to respond to.” 

“No, I haven’t actually, but you’re right about that. The instructions I read through mentioned names too. You have anything good in mind?” Jirard stopped at the landing of the stairs, leaning against the basement door just opposite them. 

“Personally, I thought it’d be funny to name it something strong sounding. Maybe like Maximus or Orion. More satisfying to talk down to it, then.” Elle smiled, and her brother paused with a contemplative look on his face. A few seconds later, he looked back up with a grin.

“I like your style, Elle... You sure you’ve never owned one of these bad boys?”

“Just got good taste in friends, I guess. I pick up a few things being around them and their pets enough.” she laughed, walking down to the basement when Jirard finally opened the door. 

“Yeah, isn’t one of them some hotshot blogger now or something? The one with the wild green hair?” He made some awkward gestures trying to describe them, and Elle snorted at her brother’s ignorance.

“Oh my god, you turn thirty and suddenly you’re completely out of touch. You’re literally only five years older than me, you dolt; you should know they’re a YouTuber. We should totally watch some of their videos later if we get time. You’d like them; they’ve got flair.”

“Ugh, whatever you say. Those videos do sound like they might be fun though,” he said as they finally reached the boy’s room. “Getting down to business, the boy hasn’t been too active since you were last here, though I’ve really only gone in there to feed it. Thought it should have some time alone in the dark to really think about what’s important, you know?”

His sister took that as a rhetorical question and stayed quiet when Jirard opened the door. He flicked on the light to illuminate the room, and his own face lit up when a groan came from inside. In the corner, he spied the boy curled into itself, squinting against the light assaulting its vision. 

“Oh, so you are awake this time! Honestly thought I might have broken you for a bit there. Well, broken you more anyway. You’re already aware of your manufacturing defects.” Jirard walked across the room to sweep a hand across its cheek and down its bare neck which still bore marks from the shock collar. It made sure not to flinch away from the touch. In fact, it almost seemed to lean into it, as both he and the boy realized.

“...I almost want to take that back. Seems like your training did pay off a little after all, huh?” It nodded its head slightly at that, almost akin to bowing it down in shame. Its face remained set in a grimace. “Hey, that’s not a bad thing. You’re just fulfilling your purpose as a product; nothing wrong with that. Oh, speaking of! The manual didn’t give me anything to call you, so I’m just gonna have to name you. What do you think about Maverick?”

The grimace set in deeper as it frowned disapprovingly.

“I, personally, think it’s a lovely name. Suits it well.” Elle butted in with a sparkling smile.

“It’s decided then. You’re my little Maverick, and you’re going to respond whether I call you Maverick, Mav, or any matter of pet names. Got it?” The nod he got in response was short and clipped this time, but it was an agreement. It was beginning to learn what he wanted. “Great. Elle, you can take it. I trust it knows its place by now and won’t try anything, but here’s the obligatory warning just in case, Mav. Don’t go getting your priorities switched up now.”

Jirard turned around before it could respond and his sister walked over instead, grabbing it by the back of its neck and pulling forward. It got up on unsteady legs, trying its best to keep up with the quick pace already being set as it was dragged along. Maverick was almost choking around the strong hand, but its cramping legs had trouble keeping up and staying stable. If it didn’t trip on its own, some strand of the long, plush carpet threads would catch on its toes anyway and send it stumbling behind only to be yanked forward again.

And god if that grip didn’t already hurt. That shock collar had left scarring that Elle’s rough hand now rubbed painfully against with every movement. Up the staircase, she stayed one step above it, moving opposite it and pulling up hard on multiple occasions.

At the top of the steps, Mav finally got a full scope of the house. There was a large, luxurious entrance, lit by a glittering crystal chandelier and framed by a curving wooden staircase. It couldn’t see the scope from just one room, but this house could easily be an entire mansion. No doubt it was fit with a high end security system that would lock all the doors and windows at the tap of a finger, leaving no way to escape…

“Maverick,” Jirard’s call lingered in the air for a few seconds before it remembered that was supposed to be its name, and lifted its head. “Did they at least teach you how to complete basic chores where you were trained?”

It gave a curt nod, eyes still wandering the open space. Fingers snapping in front of the boy’s face brought its attention back to the situation at hand, and looked back at Elle, whose fingers had just retreated from its face. She shook her head and pointed back in front of them, to her brother who was staring with a less than pleased expression.

“I may as well address this now rather than later, Mav. I’d love it if you could give some verbal responses every now and then. You know, so I don’t have to constantly stare at you to have a conversation. Not to say I didn’t wish I could stare at you all the time, of course.”

“...okay, then.” A hint of sass shone through the words.

“So how would you answer my previous question…?” he asked expectantly, leading it on.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” The boy only stared blankly with a carefully guarded expression, lip twitching. “...Oh, come on, I’m sure they gave you a few ideas of what to call your owner back where you came from. Sir, Master, Mr. Valencia… take your pick. Honestly, I’m really not all that picky as long as you can show me some basic respect.”

His boy seemed to have frozen halfway through the statement, eyes blown wide and somehow clearer than they had been in days. It trembled in an unnatural way, which would have been interesting to him had it been in fear and not what looked to be pent up rage. He made eye contact with Elle over it and she only tightened her fingers on its throat, adding her other hand for extra security. 

Only Jirard saw when it broke, something greater than itself taking control of its body, and signaled a warning to his sister just seconds before Maverick reared up against the restraining hands, teeth bared and snarling. 

“Valencia, VALENCIA! I knew you were familiar. Damn it, it’s you- it’s fucking YOU! You’re the asshat from up the street who would never stop harassing my mom before she- she-! And of course you’re enough of a sick BASTARD to treat a fucking human being as a pet! Fuck you! Fuck-” Its words were cut off by its head slamming into the wall, and feet leaving the floor, hands curling further around its neck, cutting in and taking his breath until it could only wheeze through sobs and tears that spilled down its cheeks. Its expression only dropped further at the realization of what it had just done--what it had just said!--and the surely looming consequences he couldn’t even dream of. 

“That’s. Enough.” Elle hissed as her hands closed over its throat, and it could only gasp fruitlessly and scramble for footing as Jirard stepped closer, expression unreadable.

“Let off a bit, Elle.” He stalked forward, talking slowly to his boy now as if addressing a toddler, “I think we need to have a short discussion before I beat you senseless for what you just did, don’t we Mav?”

“Th-tha’s not- nah-” it sniveled and cried as it spoke, knowing any more of its defiance would only make things worse, but some spirit had awoken inside that it couldn’t push down.

“Are you trying to tell me Maverick isn’t your real name?” A brief moment passed, as if he was expecting a response. “Okay, sure, I’ll indulge you,” Jirard remembered the manual advising strictly against speaking over a boy’s past, but he figured it already broke that boundary for him, “What is your ‘real’ name then?”

The boy froze at that, looking ahead with empty eyes. Its lips trembled and breath hitched around Elle’s hands, but it was still silent. He resisted the urge to smile at his risk having paid off. With specific memories so fresh in its head, Maverick would need more of an overhaul than he had planned for, but it would certainly be interesting to try out.

“Oh, can you not remember? Are you sure you really ever had one in the first place? Because from what I remember, you never had a proper name until today. Anything that came before must certainly have been miserable--something you’d never want to remember, of course--for you to sign up for a program like this.” The words came sweet from his lips, but his boy was having none of it with what those memories had instilled in him. It muttered things about how it didn’t agree to this, how it had people down the street that cared about it, and it only saw Jirard’s raised fist right before it smashed across its cheek. 

The hands on its neck held Maverick in place as its face snapped to the side, a wretched, choked moan escaping its mouth. Elle eyed her brother, but he nodded in a motion for her to keep holding it. Punches came in strong to its head, hitting anywhere that wouldn’t make it immediately pass out, and pained noises became shouts that rang and echoed in the open space. Elle counted seven before he finally brought his fists down, and the body under her hands groaned deliriously. 

“Very elegant. Beating it senseless, you said?” She smiled, letting it drop to the ground, barely clinging to consciousness.

“You see it having any senses right now? It should have a few concussions by now, at least. Figure that’s the easiest way to mess with its head.”

“Well, it’s not gonna take to anything you tell it right now. Gonna need, I don’t know, at least an hour if I had to estimate.” She nudged the boy with her foot, and it leaned faintly into it in its half-conscious state. Maybe the training the other day had caused that, but she wouldn’t place bets on it with this one. “...maybe two, actually.”

“Is that enough time to watch one of those videos you were talking about earlier?” Jirard’s voice rose in a hopeful tone, and Elle smiled back.

“Oh, definitely a few at least!”

She grabbed Maverick’s arms while her brother took the feet and they dragged it to the living room with his flatscreen TV, abandoning it on the floor in favor of sitting up on the couch.

“Okay, so we should definitely start with one of the earlier videos,” Elle scrolled through the channel on her phone which was streaming to the TV, “would you rather the collar haul or the prank video?”

“Ooh, the prank sounds fun…”

Videos played on the screen for hours as Maverick lay on the floor, disoriented by its throbbing head and swirling vision, unable and unwilling to force its confused body to move, and hearing only the muffled sounds of audio and the piercing, too loud laughter of its owner and his sister. In the back of its head, memories of defiance and punishment danced like a curse, and it just wished it could think clearly enough to remember what it was trying so hard to defend.