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but-is-it-whumpy · 2 years ago

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Mutually Assured Destruction Part 8

Part one here

Part seven here

They spent Friday on the couch, addicted to, of all things, an interior design competition show. Civilian felt fine enough for work but Jonathan refused to take them back. And when Civilian nearly fell over from dizziness in the shower, they begrudgingly admitted that he had a point.

At first Jonathan only glanced over occasionally from the doorway of the kitchen as he prepared tea and soup, or from his armchair as he read one of his books. But then his gaze lingered more and more until the third episode ended, when one of the contestants was declared winner of that round.

“What the fuck?” he said, sitting straighter. “That design was dogshit and everyone knew it.”

Civilian snorted. “They’ve been kissing this contestant’s ass all season so far. I don’t know why.”

“If he wins, I may have to break this television.”

“That’s not going to change the outcome.”

“No but it might make me feel better.”

When the asshole contestant lost, Jonathan fist pumped the air. Civilian couldn’t help but laugh behind the throw pillow.

“You are way more invested in this than I am,” they said.

“The world may be grossly unfair, but I like to pretend meritocracy exists on trashy reality shows.”

“Have you ever seen another competition show? That’s the last place for meritocracy.”

“Shut up and let me enjoy this young woman’s victory.”

Civilian grinned. “Or what?”

He glanced at them side-eyed, as if weighing his next words. “Or I’ll poison your soup with a laxative.”

Only a small flutter of nerves responded to his threat. It wasn’t necessarily the threat itself that caused it, but the matter-of-fact tone that delivered it. Joking or not, Jonathan’s threats never sounded empty. Even so, Civilian was going to trust him on his word. If he betrayed them and killed them anyway at the end of all this, at least Civilian didn’t live the rest of their days in a constant state of fear and panic.

“I’ve been on a mostly liquid diet the last three days, I don’t think you’d need a laxative to get the result you wanted,” they pointed out.

Jonathan pulled a face. “Disgusting. Point taken.”

“And speaking of soup . . .” Civilian let their eyes dart meaningfully to the kitchen.

“You’re hungry again?” Jonathan sighed and stood up from the couch. “Well, it’s a good sign I suppose.”

Civilian wondered, as Jonathan cooked for them on command, if he was lonely too. He had said he’d given up everything for his freedom. Perhaps he regretted such a high cost.

Or perhaps this was a long con, making Civilian feel warm and friendly to him so they wouldn’t snitch. You could never tell with Jonathan what, if anything, was sincere.

This time Jonathan included a thick grilled cheese with Civilian’s soup. They hid a smile — perhaps the laxative comment really did get to him.

“Will you let me go home tomorrow?” they asked as they stirred their soup.

“You ask that as if you’re my prisoner.”

“You mean, after forcing me to come here, making sure I have no idea where I am, and the ability to stop me from leaving, I’m not a prisoner.?”

“I — okay. Fair point. But you were the idiot who showed up to work with a 102 degree fever. Your judgment couldn’t be trusted. I don’t regret it.”

“You’re not answering my question,” Civilian said.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can go home tomorrow. I could drop you off at the parking garage after dinner, even. I’m sure you’re dying for your bed again.”

Civilian’s eyes lit up. “Really? Tonight?”

“So excited,” he drawled. “You make it sound like I’ve kept you chained up in the basement this whole time.”

“Maybe if you had a basement you would have,” Civilian retorted.

“Don’t tempt me. You’d make a very nice prisoner — docile, sweet. That pulse of yours jackrabbiting in your chest while I spoon feed you soup.”

A strangle shiver danced along Civilian’s spine. Jonathan wouldn’t need chains to keep Civilian where he wanted them. Jonathan could steal every avenue of rebellion away from them, too. They should hate the thought of it. And they did.

But part of them didn’t. A part that Civilian didn’t want to analyze right now. Or ever.

After one last nourishing bowl of soup — during which Civilian did not imagine Jonathan spoon feeding it to them — Jonathan packed Civilian back into his car. He did not force Civilian to close their eyes on the way, but asked instead.

“The less you know about me, the safer you will be,” he pointed out.

Civilian complied, keeping their eyes shut tight the entire drive back. They didn’t even dare peek during the stoplights. Jonathan delivered them safe and sound to their car in the parking garage. Ever the gentleman, he got out first and opened the door for Civilian.

They hesitated. The entire “vacation” spent with him had Civilian chewing on the same question, caught in an endless debate on whether or not they should ask it.

“Well?” Jonathan asked, gesturing widely to the parking garage. “Don’t tell me you want the basement now that I’ve driven you all the way back here.”

Civilian swallowed their nerves. Screw it. Now or never.

“Your grand plan . . . .Is it going to hurt a lot of people?”

Jonathan gave them a cautious look. “Does it matter? It’s going to happen regardless.”

“I know. I just — don’t know what to expect out of you. Ever.” They swallowed and looked away. Maybe it was stupid to ask. What kind of answer could they even expect out of a person like Jonathan?

“My grand plan,” he replied slowly, thoughtfully, “is going to ensure my freedom in a way that can’t be threatened. And if it works the way it’s supposed to, then no. I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

Relief flooded them, a sudden weight lifted they hadn’t known they were carrying. Freedom. That’s what he wanted — not power or death, just freedom. Civilian couldn’t begrudge him that, no matter how screwed up their circumstances were.

Fingers tipped their chin back up to his gaze, which had turned steely.

“But no one had better get in my way.”

“I won’t,” said Civilian. “You — you deserve your freedom. I don’t want to jeopardize it. I know you probably don’t believe me but —“

He shushed them with one finger pressed against their lips. The hard glint of his eyes had softened. “It’s not safe for me to believe you. But I appreciate it all the same. Now go home, Civilian.”

Something strange fluttered and twisted in their gut at the feel of his finger on their lips. Civilian nodded, mute, before unbuckling the seatbelt and getting out of the car.

“Civilian! So good to see you back and at it again!”

Gloria popped her head between the divider wall of their desks, scaring the shit out of them.

“Yep,” said Civilian awkwardly. “It’s . . .good to be back?”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far. I noticed Jonathan wasn’t here the rest of last week. If that was my boyfriend I wouldn’t be eager to leave his tender loving care.”

Gloria winked and Civilian’s neck flushed in horrified embarrassment.

“It wasn’t — um, I —“ Civilian stuttered, but Gloria didn’t really wait on a response.

“Let me tell you, that boy was worried sick about you all last week. I’m glad he took those days off, he was useless. Always looking over the dividers for you, fidgeting at the computer, making ten cups of coffee. . . .”

Boy, when Jonathan put on a show he pulled out all the stops, Civilian thought with a snort. Though Gloria was such a romantic, it didn’t take much to fool her regardless.

“Yeah, he was pretty, uh, worried back home,” Civilian said, casting desperately about for a way to end this conversation.

“Back home you say? I didn’t think you guys took that step so soon. Good for you! Go get ‘em tiger!”

Dear God in heaven. Where was Jonathan’s power when you actually needed it?

“What? No — that’s not what —“

An then — as if Jonathan could read their mind as well as their boy — Civilian’s hand lifted up on it’s own accord. They watched with morbid fascination as their body pulled out the post it note pad and a pen and started scribbling.

“How do you write so well without looking?” Gloria asked, mystified.

True panic started to set in.

“I’m so sorry, Gloria, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” they said frantically. “If you’ll excuse me —“

Her eyes widened. “Of course, of course! Don’t let me keep you. Talk to you soon, Civilian.”

The relief at watching her leave almost made Civilian forget what Jonathan had written to them until their hand picked up the post it note pad and waved it in front of their face.

Do you like Shakespeare? Want to see a play this weekend?

Civilian squinted at the handwriting, back in control again. Jonathan had never asked Civilian to go anywhere — he told them. Before Civilian could formulate how to reply — both personally and physically — their hand scribbled out another message.

Meet me in the b.r. ?

The question mark was added a second after the fact. Civilian waited for their body to stand up and walk like a puppet, but Jonathan seemed content to let them go on their own. Curious and a little apprehensive, Civilian stood up and headed to the break-room.

Jonathan was already putting fresh grounds in the coffee filter when they entered. He smirked at them.

“Next time, should I propel Gloria away from you with a sudden bathroom emergency.”

Civilian pulled a face. “You can control people’s bowels?”

His smirk twitched in response.

“That’s highly unethical,” they muttered.

“That’s not a no.”

Civilian pursed their lips against the yes they wanted to say and Jonathan’s smirk grew into a full smile.

“So, your answer,” he said, flipping the coffee pot on and leaning against the counter.

The thought of having a choice felt so foreign. Civilian wasn’t sure what he wanted from them. “Does the answer matter?”

“Shakespeare isn’t everyone’s cup of tea,” said Jonathan. “It’s Much Ado About Nothing, by the way.”

“Do you like that play?”

He gave her a curious look. “Yes, but that’s not what I’m asking.”

Civilian bit their lip. “Are you asking?”

He looked at them, brow furrowed, for a moment before realization dawned on him.

“Yes, Civilian. I’m asking.”

“Then — then I would love to go.”

“Excellent.” That boyish grin brightened his face.

Civilian had to remind themselves, against the flutters in their chest, that his inner self was never as innocent as his outer self looked

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#literally one of my favs #absolutely LOVE it #can never tell what villain is doing (. ) (. )#villain x civilian #heroes and villains #fav

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