#rory linden international man of disaster

[whump-it]

I've been missing my sad boy Callum. I haven't done enough with his story at all lately.

I decided to rectify that by starting this today...

It's going to have this line it, spoken by a rather disastrously panicky Rory;

"I think...I think I've broken Callum."

[whump-it]

Hey Rory. Don't you blame Alyaa for Callum being so hurt? for you being so hurt? I mean, if it wasn't for her, neither of you guys would have been kidnapped. Callum would have had his surgery and you would have been able to take him home.

"I blame Ethan. It's all on him. Sick. He's sick. Doing that to Cal. Making him wait. He was going to the hospital the next day! The next day! And he's in here," Rory prods at his temple a few times. "He's up in here and I can't get rid of him. Sick."

He runs a shaking hand through his hair. Pulls at it a little.

"Guns are loud. I didn't know how loud they could be," he says quietly. "I don't even think Cal barely moved when it went off. His brain was... he was suffering. I don't even know if he heard it. I don't know how not. So loud."

Rory looks up at you.

"He taped Alyaa's mouth up until it went sore. Her lips. The skin around them? Cracked and red. I hate him. Ethan. I hate him. What if Cal's surgery being delayed has some long term impact? Like, in a few years and something goes wrong? I can't lose him."

He puts his head in his hands.

"I uh, I blame Ethan," he murmurs. "But I wish she'd never met him. Same as I wish Cal had never met Hayden. Maybe none of them should've ever met me either. Probably everyone would've been safe if they hadn't met me."

[whump-it]

Reasons why Callum's students love Rory #1

When he wants to see Callum, but he's in the middle of giving a lecture, and this is what they see at the lecture theatre door.

[whump-it]

Rory’s Audit; Part 1

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70   @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumpfigure @whumppsychology @ashintheairlikesnow

The Collection Box had been quiet again just recently.  The usual ebb and flow of the seasons.  It was normal.  It happened ever year without fail.  But Rory still felt a little nervous about the impending visit from his boss.  They hadn’t had much cause to interact often since Rory had started working for the Programme.  Mr Newman spent most of his time at the Locality Facility, only rarely stopping by to clap Rory on the shoulder and tell him that he “ran a tight ship”.  And then he was gone again for months on end.  It was partly why Rory had become so organised in the first place; there was no one there to help him or tell him what to do so he kept rigorous notes, took excellent care of the Locality Box, and kept the equipment in top notch condition, always replacing it before it really needed it.

Rory loved his job and he felt as sure as he could that he was good at it.  His BP were always calm and content.  His Selectors often sent thank you cards or photos of themselves with their BP over the years.  Not all of them did but a good enough amount did to reassure him that the system was helping a huge amount of people.  And it paid for him to be able to keep a roof over his head.  Bills paid on time.  Food bought.  A little to go aside into savings every few months. 

All in all, a visit from his boss, especially one preceded by a gruff sounding and very short phone call was a concern.   He both loved, and needed his job.

So in the few hours prior to the visit he had spent time cleaning everything.  Making his Collection Box into the best damn box that the world had ever seen.  He vacuumed.  He dusted.  He damp dusted.  He swept.  He had one BP in who was taking the chance to have a midday sleep after Rory had checked that they were comfortable and full, not needing the toilet or not feeling unwell.  He apologised for all of the noise that he was making and tried to keep it down now that they were sleeping. 

“Boss man coming in or something?” they’d joked at him.

“Actually yes,”  Rory had said.  The BP had frowned.

“Don’t look so nervous,” they had said.  “I’ll tell them how good it is here.”

The memory of the little exchange had kept the edge off Rory’s panic for most of the morning, until the knock at his door came and caused an uncomfortable leap up in his heart, thudding in his chest.  He rubbed his palms down the legs of his trousers in an attempt at not having sweaty palms in time to shake his boss’s hand.  It certainly made turning the doorknob to his office door into an easier task.

“Mr Newman,” Rory said, a smile on his lips that didn’t quite meet his eyes as he tried to inject a light hearted tone to his voice.  “Good to see you again.”  He shifted back out of the way of the door before remembering that he had meant to shake hands.  He stuck his hand out as Mr Newman walked through the door, effectively slapping his boss in the stomach as he did so.  Mr Newman stopped at the slap of Rory’s hand and looked down at the offending appendage.  Rory winced and slowly brought his hand back to his own side. 

“Sorry,”  he said.  “Awkward.”  He could feel his face heating up as Mr Newman stood and regarded him with one eyebrow raised as he sighed.  “Ok, come on in!”  Mr Newman walked past him, and Rory shut the door, wincing and muttering to himself to stop being such an idiot before straightening up, tugging his hand through his hair, fixing his smile back on his face and going to sit at his desk.

"Look," Mr Newman said, sitting down and waving a hand impatiently at Rory, hurrying him up. "I'll keep this simple. We need to run an audit; you need to run an audit. State ordered. No wiggle room."

"Ok?" Rory said, leaning back then sitting forward. Awkward. Uncertain.

"Don't play the idiot," Mr Newman snapped. "The rumour mill's been working up to this and there's no way that even you, isolated as you've made yourself out here, there's no way that you haven't heard anything." Rory held his nerve. Held his silence. He wanted more certainty from his boss.  Mr Newman sighed and crossed one leg over the other, ankle to knee.  “The young BP, Rory.  Some girl has come out saying that she was kept and abused by some drug lord, drug baron.  Whatever.  Look, they should��ve sent her down with him but somehow she got off all the charges.  It was her money he was using.”

“Well,” Rory said, the tiniest hint of a shake to his voice.  A fraction of nerves amongst the knowledge that what he was about to say was going to be right.  “It was his money once she was Selected so, technically, she had no control over what he did.”

“So you have heard,”

“Well....”

“Stop saying ‘well’ all the time,”

“I’ve heard,”  Rory said.  His inner monologue had been aching over the rumours.  Pining.  The scabbed-over wound that Callum Morrow’s appearance and subsequent Selection had left was fresh and bleeding again.  But with only a rumour to go on, he had set it to one side. And burned and ached.  But he had put it to the back of his mind, stamped it down.  Callum was fine.  Callum was happy.  His Selector checked out.  It was one rumour. 

“We, apparently, can’t “go on turning a blind eye” anymore.  Or so the Givernment are saying.  Some internet forum or some other rubbish.  I don’t know.  But people are starting to kick up trouble.  Not the BP I may add.  The girl has gone quiet.  No other BP are whining.  But the powers that be don’t like how it looks.  We’ll come out of it fine.  But I need you to do that audit.  And I want to see the results first.  Got it?”

“Got it,” Rory muttered.  The voice in his head kept getting louder.  Callum Callum Callum.  A scar that had suddenly stopped healing.  Sutures tearing out.  Mr Newman glared at him.

“You better have “got it”,” he said, as he stood and turned his back on Rory, walked to the door.  “How long is this likely to take?”

“Um,” Rory mentally shook himself.  Callum Callum Callum.  Be ok.  Be ok.  “Not long.  I only have one under twenty five ever come through here.  Don’t ever get any under about forty actually.”

“So...?”  Mr Newman flapped one hand at him, the other already turning the doorknob.

“Give me a week,” Rory said.  “I keep good records.”  His attention was already wandering further and further from his boss and drifting to his laptop and his filing cabinet.  His data sticks and his photographs.  He heard Mr Newman’s terse goodbye but not the words.  The banging shut of the door jolted his attention to the buzzing silence of the room around him.  “Fuck.”  He hissed the word out into the room, pulling at his hair, rubbing at his face.  Dashing away at tears that he had not realised were even beginning to gather.  He felt pulled in too many different directions.  There was too much to do and too many places to start.  He snatched up a piece of paper and started to write.  He needed a list.  A plan.  A way to channel his thoughts so that they wouldn’t get away from him.  He needed to produce an audit.  Please his boss.  Keep the only source of money that he had. 

He needed Callum to be ok.  More than all of those things, he needed Callum to be ok.

The list grew.  It flowed out from his pen.  He forced himself to write alowly and neatly.  Mistakes could not be a part of this.  And rushing wouldn’t achieve anything.  The very first thing on his list read ’look after current BP’.  He took a deep breath in and out, and carried on.  ‘Laptop’, ‘data stick 3ii’, ‘file copy Callum Morrow’, ‘file copy Hayden Reeve’.  He wrote down the websites and databases that would hold the answers to the questions that he was forming and solidifying in his mind.  ‘Postal Service’, ‘GIS’, ‘MapReader’. 

At the very bottom he wrote ‘You’ve got one week to get him’.

[whump-it]

Thanks for the tag, and for @broken-horn for tagging me too.

Allow me to present Master Hayden, Rory "perpetually stressed and wanting to buy things for Callum" Linden, and Callum Morrow featuring Haz the Teddy and a pen because he's going to uni!

@pepperonyscience please do Alyaa, Toph and Leif!!! And also tagging @spookyboywhump @haro-whumps

Got tagged by @newbornwhumperfly to use this picrew and do another round of the gw team. That’s actually, like, a perfect Nyla??? I want to marry her.

I will tag @cubeswhump and @boxboysandotherwhump aaaaaaaand @albino-whumpee ;)

[whump-it]

Rory, what did you think of Alyaa and David's wedding? About their vows?

About the wedding in general? He absolutely loved it. He was nervous and may have sworn a couple of times. But he was very quiet about it!

He even took a cheese grater to the soles of his shoes so that he wouldn't slip when he danced with Alyaa at the reception. Callum watched the grating to make sure that he didn't go overboard with it.

He hugged David a minimum of eight times, and it may well have been more.

He really really enjoyed the vodka that Callum bought for him, for old times sake!

The vows made him cry! He took a very long time to admit to this and maintained that it was his eyes watering due to a dry day outdoors and a well working air conditioning system indoors!

[whump-it]

Rory and Callum in a coffee shop AU, hands down. Or one of those Soulmate AUs where the world is black and white until you meet them.

😲 I really love the idea of the black and white Soulmates AU!

If it was a coffee shop AU, you just know that it would involve Rory landing a coffee in his or someone else's lap!

[whump-it]

I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

This exactly sums up how Rory feels about Callum when he Donates and is subsequently Selected.

[whump-it]

an unexplained breath of cold washes over your skin as a disembodied voice requests,

what are five headcanons about your characters?

1. Chipper Zombie knows one heck of a lot of historical dances thanks to centuries spent wangling his way into all and any party.

2. Tony fainted when Brenda gave birth to Rory.

3. Rory took guitar lessons but eventually got asked to kindly leave because he laughed every time the g string was mentioned.

4. Callum uses colouring books and dot to dot books to help with his manual dexterity.

5. Chipper Zombie is a keen diarist.

[whump-it]

Would Rory want children? What's his sexuality?

Rory doesn't want children, but he really does want to be an uncle. And as it turns out, he's an incredibly good uncle. Kids love him because he's a a quiet disaster and they find it hilarious that he accidentally swears and often messes things up.

If he sat and thought about it, Rory would come up with grey ace biromantic. When Callum turned up at Rory's facility it was like BOOM there's my person. That's the only person. He did try a few dates here and there during the three years Callum was with Hayden but none of it made him happy. He wasn't happy. He was kind and caring but none of them were Callum.

With Callum he has everything and more and it's so strong and so special that just having Callum there is enough. They've never had sex with each other, but they hug and kiss and hold one another.

[whump-it]

Command ask: Rory, I want you to bind Callum like Master Hayden would - I want you to make him atone for ruining your life. For making you have to deal with him.

TW for mentioned death that is suspected but not proven! I'm going to tag because this is a very different take on Rory that you all might be interested in!

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @kawaiiloverofanimu @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @slaintetowhump @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability

He looked down. He was holding a heavy bag made of thick material. Hefty straps. Weighty. He jiggled his arm and it clanked. Tools of some sort.

He lifted his gaze from the bag and looked around, squinting through the dull light of a single bulb on the wall. It illuminated a sheet of writing.

He knew this place well. It had been etched into his mind somehow. Like he'd been here before.

"Master?"

He turned at the sound of the voice. Callum's voice. And as he turned he realised that he was in his room. Callum was kneeling on his bed holding on to his teddy behind his back.

Of course. Where else could he hold it with his wrists cuffed. It had to be behind his back.

Slowly he walked towards him and set the bag down on the floor so that he could look more properly at his wretch. Reaching out, Rory stroked Callum's hair gently, gently, gently. Then grasped it up tightly in his fist and pulled his head back.

"Why are you talking?" Rory hissed at him over his shocked gasp. "Drop your stupid teddy. Now. Drop it." He shook Callum by the hair until he did as he'd been instructed.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

"Shut up," Rory spat his words out. He was wearing gloves. He wondered idly if he'd been wearing then when he first grabbed Callum's hair. His curls. His perfect beautiful curls. He shook him harder. "Do you know something?" Rory asked as he let go so that he could crouch down to open the bag. "I've had enough. All I do is look after you. You you you. We always talk about you."

He stood up and jammed the muzzle in to Callum's mouth. It was strange because he'd always assumed it would be brown leather. But this was bright red. Blood red. He pulled it and buckled it tight, ignoring the whimpers and snivelling.

He held a blindfold. Had he been back in the bag to get it? He couldn't bring himself to care.

"Do you know what I've given up for you?" Rory said as he twisted the cloth and tied it overly tight around Callum's eyes. "Everything. Isn't that a joke!? Everything! My job. My livelihood. My sense of security. My parents love you more than they love me!"

He went back to the bag and pulled out a pair of headphones, while something dull and metallic caught his eye.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this because you're too stupid to understand. Slow and stupid. Slow and stupid." He slid the headphones over Callum's ears, sing-songing 'slow and stupid' over and over as he did so. Metallic. Something dull and metallic. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again.

Barbed wire. That was best.

Barbed wire.

"You've ruined my life," he muttered, as he picked the teddy up and shoved it back into Callum's hands, watching them curl pathetically around it. He started right where Callum knelt in the middle of the basement. Basement? Not bed. Of course not. Why would he be on a bed? No furniture for Callum.

He twisted the wire around on itself to hold it in place then got to work winding it around and around. Trapping the teddy to Callum's skin.

Trapped.

Bleeding in little points. Little drags of skin.

Around and around.

Up his body and around his arms to hold them tightly to his sides.

Tight tight tight.

Up up up.

Around his shoulders towards his throat. His scarred neck. Tight. Around and around. He pulled on it. Pulled and tightened and wrapped it over and over itself.

Pulled pulled pulled pulled.

"Then I woke up and threw up," Rory said, looking up from his seat on the couch. Alyaa looked back at him, placing a mug of coffee down in front of him then sitting down too. "I think I killed him in the end."

"Does he know you're here?" Alyaa asked. Rory shook his head.

"I told him it must be because it's too hot in the apartment. Said I was just going for fresh air." He leant forward to pick up the mug and noticed that his hands were still trembling. "Is this what I really think?"

"Rory..."

"Is this the truth? Is this my brain telling me that I want... that I... what is this?"

"Rory..."

"Surely my brain doesn't...I don't want him to atone for anything. Not a thing. He can't possibly have ruined my life..."

"Rory will you listen!" Alyaa all but shouted at him. He stopped and quickly took a sip of drink to give his mouth something else to do other than carry on talking. "It's going to sound harsh but I think you know full well that he hasn't ruined your life when you were only living half a life before he came back."

"It was so real," he whispered into the mug. "I hate myself."

"Well I don't hate you," Alyaa said, shifting off her seat to kneel next to him. "And Callum doesn't hate you. You know that dreams are nothing to do with how you really think right? It's just your brain processing memories and filing them away. So what you dreamt can't possibly be true. You have never ever, not once, treated Callum like that."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"We all get thoughts that we don't want every now and then. But they're not truths. Don't you believe them," she said.

"I love him so much," Rory whispered. "More than anything. Anything."

"I know,"

"I could never hurt him,"

"I know,"

"Do you hate me?"

Alyaa smiled at him.

"No. You've given me no reason to. Now get back over there, tell Callum I invited you in for coffee, and hug the living daylights out of him."

"Thank you," Rory said, draining his cup then getting up to rinse it out. "I think today might just be a limpet day."

[whump-it]

Rory was Callum's AP and carries around a lot of guilt for being the person who allowed Hayden to Select Callum. He's also Callum's soulmate.

One of his official tags is Rory Linden; International Man of Disaster. His other is Rory is a quiet disaster.

He really wants someone to blame him for what happened to Callum but no one will. He became an AP to help people because his parents gently steered him away from being a firefighter due to his propensity for getting hurt.

His parents, his dad in particular, take great delight from winding him up, a past time which Callum and Alyaa will join in with once they're both recovered enough. There's a WhatsApp group started by Rory's dad called "Days Without An Accident; Rory Edition".

He's a complete sweetheart who nearly constantly says the wrong thing and does the wrong thing, all in the pursuit of doing the right thing!

If you go to my masterlist you'll find Rory Gets Belt looped which perfectly illustrates gotta disaster-ness!

I mean… He is dense but he wasn’t expecting this situation at I mean, he wasn't expecting this situation, and it can be challenging to deal with someone who has been through so much trauma, specially if you know nothing about them or the situation as whole. He just wanted a regular dog and somehow ordered one from the human trafficker... However he definetly needs to review his social circle smh

Thank you anon! I honestly agree, but I also enjoy gently mocking Tomas because he definitely doesn’t always think straight. 

But I’m really glad you think that :’) it makes me happy to know someone out there sympathises with him! 

No matter what, I would say that Tomas’s biggest strength is his resilience. Like getting Rowe was a HUGE shock for him, but he was never so foolish as to consider getting rid of him. He was like well, I work from home, this can work, I’ll make it work. And so far he’s done his best and now he cares for Rowe so so so much. And he may fuck up and scare Rowe or say the wrong thing, but he never gets exasperated or fed up when Rowe panics. He’s very patient and ultimately very very kind (and I love him)

And yes I agree lol. His sweet nature means people like Kasia can and do take complete advantage of him!! 

[whump-it]

Rory's Broken Not Broken Toe

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @slaintetowhump @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings

No real TWs, but rather Rory utterly panicking about the possibility of a broken toe! Alyaa and Dr Callum to the rescue!

The bang was the first thing that Alyaa heard, quickly followed up by a howl of absolute agony. She dropped the book that she'd been flicking idly through, letting it fall off her lap and on to the floor with a thud in her hurry to get up and off the couch. She ran, wishing that Callum was home, tearing around corners and through door frames, skidding to a halt on her knees next to Rory who was groaning and hissing air in and out through clenched teeth.

"Rory!" Alyaa lifted her hands over him, unsure where was hurt. Unsure where she should touch, and where she should avoid. "What do you need me to do? What's...uh... you need... what do you need?"

"It hurts," he groaned out and rolled so that his face was pressed into the carpet.

"What hurts Rory?" She laid a hand on the back of his head and scratched gently into his hair. "Let me help you." She glanced behind herself, even though she knew that her phone was at least two rooms away, wishing that she'd thought to grab it off the coffee table.

"My toe," he moaned, voice muffled by the carpet.

"Your toe?" Alyaa landed back on her heels with a bump, mouth slightly agape while she watched Rory nod and look up at her, a look of pure desperation across his features. "Your toe!?"

"I kicked the door frame," he groaned the words out, rolling himself side to side as he spoke.

"Right," Alyaa said, drawing the word out, narrowing her eyes at him while she willed her heart rate back down to an acceptable level. "Well then, let's have a look at it." She moved to shuffle on knees towards Rory's feet when she was stopped by another howl.

"No! Nonononono you can't touch it!"

"What do you mean I can't touch it!?" Alyaa stopped half way to Rory's feet. "How else am I meant to see if it's broken?"

"Broken!? You think it's broken!?" Rory wailed.

"Well I mean I don't know but we should find out," she said. "So let me take your sock off."

"What if something's pointing the wrong way? Is something pointing the wrong way?"

"I don't know!" Alyaa said, a touch louder.

For a long moment they stayed where they were, Rory laying on the floor whimpering quietly and Alyaa halfway towards his feet.

"Ok," Rory whispered.

"Ok?"

"Yes. Ok you can look."

"Good," Alyaa said, aiming for an air of knowledgeable authority in her voice. She shuffled down to his feet and reached tentatively for his sock when he suddenly jerked away from her hand. "Why did you move!?"

"I've changed my mind," he said.

"But you can't change your mind!"

"I can! It's my right as a patient!" As soon as the last word passed his lips, their eyes met. Aligned. They both spoke together.

"Callum!"

"You stay there," Alyaa said, scrambling up to her feet to dash back for her phone before settling herself back down next to Rory, tapping through her recent calls as she sat, and hitting call on Callum, putting it on speakerphone. Next to her, Rory continued to whine quietly to himself.

"Hey," Callum's voice sounded out into the room. "Everything ok?"

"Rory's kicked a door frame and..."

"I'm in so much pain Cal," Rory burst out, cutting Alyaa off. "Please make it stop!"

"What, over the phone?" Callum said with a little chuckle. "I'm good but I'm not that good."

"Yeah he's..." Alyaa glanced down at Rory. "... it looks pretty painful."

"Kicked a door frame," Callum said, a smile at the edge of his words. "What did it ever do to you?"

"Why aren't you making it stop!?" Rory wailed, rocking himself a bit more before tucking his foot safely out of reach from Alyaa and her insistence upon wanting to look at it.

“Ok,” Callum said.  “First things first, is it your big toe?”

“The one next to it,” Rory said, a whine just catching at the edge of his words.  “It got it right on the edge of the frame Cal.  Right on the angle you know?  The hardest bit.”

“The hardest bit of the door, got it.  And is anything sticking out at an odd angle?  Any bone protruding?”

“Bone protruding!?”  Rory shrieked.

“We don’t know,” Alyaa said.  “Because someone won’t let me look."

"Rory are you listening to me right now? Really listening?"

"I'm, yeah I mean, I'm. It really does hurt though Cal."

"I know," Callum said, his voice softer. "But I need to know how it looks yeah? You need to let Alyaa take your sock off. You can close your eyes."

"He's got his eyes shut," Alyaa said. "Rory I'm going to take the sock off now. I'll be as gentle as possible. Just don't move."

Rory groaned out a small noise in response, nodding his head but keeping his eyes shut while he tried to hide his face even more in the pile of the carpet. Alyaa bit her lip and tried not to giggle when Callum started singing quietly down the line; "Get your socks off, get your socks off Rory."

"Is anything pointing the wrong way?" Callum asked.

"No," Alyaa said, her words accompanied by a small noise from Rory. "No blood, no bone, no... weird angles. Bit of a funny colour."

"What colour?" Callum asked over Rory's groan of pain.

"It's gone kind of white," she said.

"Well that'll bruise up nicely!" Callum said.

"I need an x-ray Cal," Rory said, sounding distressed.

"No one's going to write you up an xray for a broken middle toe."

"But can't you do it?" Rory looked up at Alyaa, eyes wide and pleading, hoping for support.

"You do know I'm not a radiographer right?"

"But you're a doctor! Same thing! Can't you just point the thing at me and zap it? I mean what could go wrong?"

"Oh nothing except a massive overdose of potentially deadly DNA splitting radiation..."

"But my DNA isn't hurting! My toe is!"

"...and it's massively illegal."

Rory hiccuped out a little whimper and rolled on to his back.

"Do we have any painkillers?" he whispered up at Alyaa, where she'd tucked her legs to the side and settled in next to him. She reached out a hand and stroked her fingers through his hair.

"I think we might be out."

"I'll get painkillers on the way home ok?" Callum said.

"Hospital strength?" Rory asked.

"No," Callum said, a little chuckle lacing through his reply. "Again, massively illegal. I'll get you over the counter pharmacy strength ones."

"Why do you both hate me!? And my toe!?"

"You're right," Callum said. "This was our plan all along. Take you down one toe at a time."

"We're playing the long game," Alyaa smiled and scratched at Rory's head.

"Anyway, look I've got to go. I'm in the middle of a student seminar."

Rory shot up to a sitting position, the first quick move that Alyaa had seen him make since she'd found him prone on the floor.

"Student se... am I... am I on speaker phone?"

"You're always on speaker phone."

"Why!!!???" Rory half wailed and half groaned the word out, pulling at least the extra syllables from it. Alyaa looked at the floor, trying not to let her shoulders shake as she giggled.

"Everyone say goodbye to Rory!"

"Bye Rory!" Callum's student group chorused back. Rory blushed furiously but failed at stopping the smile that upticked the corners of his mouth, that wrinkled just at the edge of his eyes.

"Bye Callum's students," he said.

Alyaa pressed the call end up button and put the phone down on the floor, then leant down and pulled Rory into a hug.

"No more fighting doors for you."

[whump-it]

Rory Confronts His Boss

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What do you do when your chest wakes you in pain at 2am and then you finally calm yourself down and convince yourself that you're actually going to be ok and yes, you can breathe? You write this at 3am of course.

TW fit mentions of torture, some threatening posturing. Rory stress swearing. I think that's it?  Also Rory is actually a bit of a badass and I love him,

The locality training facility was dark and shut up for the night when Rory got there. The car park was empty save for his car and one other, much more expensive, much newer car. He pulled up into a space far away from it. For whatever reason, he didn't feel much like being close to it.

For the second time that day he thought back to the question that Callum had asked him when he had donated himself. Had Rory ever been to the facility. And the answer had been no because it was invite only. Both the interview to become an AP and the job training took place at the locality collection box itself. He certainly had his invite now. And he couldn't have wanted it less if his life depended on it.

Rory heaved a huge sigh out as he turned the ignition off, pulled up the handbrake, and stepped out of the car. He didn't know his way around here but the front entrance seemed like the most sensible choice. As he approached it, a light flickered on inside and the door swung open. His boss, Mr Newman, stood in the doorway. Arms folded. Frowning. Scowling. Foot tapping.

"Rory," Mr Newman said curtly as Rory drew level with him. "On your own I see."

"I told you I would be," Rory said. "I told you I wasn't going to bring him here and I meant it."

"Mmm. You always were a stickler," Mr Newman said, turning and walking back into the building. "Follow me. The door'll lock behind you."

With no other options, Rory stepped into the reception area and let the door swing shut behind him. It clicked as he did and he glanced back, relieved to see that there was a push button to exit as opposed to any sort of swipe or key card exit. He followed along behind wishing all the while that he could be at home with Callum instead. The thought of him being there on his own made Rory restless. He'd only just got him back. He'd made the worst mistake of his life when he'd followed the rules and let Callum donate himself. Callum had had the most terrible three years imaginable until Rory had got him back. The universe had somehow given Rory what he considered to be an underserved second chance. And he was at the locality facility instead of where he should be. At home. Holding Callum. Cleaning Callum. Feeding Callum. Comforting Callum.

He walked the barely lit corridors a few steps behind his boss until they finally stopped at a door. Mr Newman took a key card from his pocket and swiped it down a pad to the side of the door, lighting up a tiny green light and releasing the lock on the door with a quiet click. Inside the room was Mr Newman's lavishly appointed office. A name plaque on the desk. On the very large desk. Bookshelves and certificates and family photos. Two comfortable chairs near a huge window that showed nothing but darkness outside, and a small table between them with a vase of flowers. Mr Newman motioned to one of the comfortable chairs.

"Take a seat," he said, going to his desk to gather up a small stack of papers. Rory did as he was bid although he would have preferred to stay standing. To stay near the door. Every inch further away from Callum was an inch too far. Like a physical ache that his body was tired of feeling.

"So," Mr Newman said, sitting opposite him and looking at the papers. "Callum Morris."

"Morrow," Rory said.

"I'm sorry?"

"His name's Callum Morrow. Is that even the paper work that I submitted when he donated?"

"It's the paper work we have."

"Then I'm just going to go ahead and assume that it is, in fact, not the paper work that I submitted. You know something? It might have taken me more than a few days to actually find Callum again? But it's taken me all of one conversation with you to lose all faith in this system."

"This system employs you and pays your wages so if I were you I'd be keeping a civil tongue in my head," Mr Newman put the papers on the table with calm ease although Rory strongly suspected that it was because he now knew that it was a useless pile of paper. Rory sighed and bent his head forward to run his fingers through his hair. He was tired. He wanted to go home to Callum.

"I should've checked more thoroughly," Rory said, sitting back up straight. "Checked that he really wanted to go through with it."

"That wasn't your job Rory. You know that."

"Well maybe it should've been," Rory said, his voice a little louder. His fingers back in his hair and twisting a bit. Mr Newman stood and walked to one of the bookcases to take down a decanter and glass, pouring himself a drink of some sort of honey coloured liquor.

"Look," Mr Newman said, taking a sip of his drink. "It's the Titanic effect." Rory frowned at him from his seat. "You don't know there's a problem until something goes wrong. That's when you can make improvements."

"Improvements!?" Rory shouted, standing and shoving the chair back as he did, teetering it on two legs before it righted itself. "You think this needs "improvements"!?"

"I can see you're angry..."

"You're damn right I'm angry," Rory shouted, stepping around the stupid little table with its stupid vase of flowers. "Do you know how long Callum was out there? Do you? Three fucking years, that's how long..."

"... and he will be brought to the facility and reconditioned..."

"Like hell he will," Rory said, trying to control his temper and his voice. "He's staying with me."

"You can't do that Rory,"

"Can't I?" Rory shouted, entirely failing in his attempt to maintain his calm. "You show me in your fucking contract where it says what happens when a collector tortures the ever living fuck out of you for three years and then dies. You show me where huh!?" Rory breathed deeply in and out, his chest heaving from his sudden outburst of anger. He spoke more calmly. More quietly. "Just some compassion. Please. It's not as if he's in any state to be speaking out against your programme."

"It's not my programme Rory," Mr Newman said, as calmly as ever. He sipped his drink again and Rory imagined shoving the glass into his face with the heel of his hand.

"That's just splitting hairs," Root said. "You know exactly what I mean. He's hardly in a state to speak at all. And whenever he does it's to beg to go back to be tortured some more because he thinks he deserves it or some shit. So please. Leave him be. Please."

"If his selector is dead," Mr Newman said, draining his glass then refilling it. "Why does he keep asking to go back?"

"He...uh... he doesn't know."

"Well now that is very interesting," Mr Newman drank some more.

"Don't you even think," Rory hissed. "Don't you even think about putting this on me. I did everything by your book. I checked everything."

"And yet we have this poor boy being tortured, as you tell it, for three years by the Selector that you provided him to. And now he's in your apartment locked away and you're refusing to bring him to the safety of his locality training facility."

"I know the Programme inside out," Rory said, stepping closer to Mr Newman. "I have read and re-read every piece of paper work. I have checked every form. It all checked out at the time."

"Yet suddenly it didn't anymore," Rory stepped closer still, making Mr Newman break off his sentence with a nervous laugh. "You don't want to threaten me Rory."

"Like you threatened me on the phone? But you're right. I don't want to. I want to go back to Callum which is exactly what I'm going to do." Rory stepped back and felt the briefest surge of pleasure at the look on his boss's face as he did so.

"Have it your own way," Mr Newman said as Rory pushed the door handle down and opened the door. "You just be careful." Choosing not to answer, Rory stepped out if the office and resisted the urge to slam the door behind himself. He traced his way back through the corridors and out to his car, all the while resisting the temptation to check if he was being followed.

He barely remembered the car ride back to the apartment, the only proof that it happened being that he'd made it and not crashed his car doing so in such a rage filled haze. He fumbled his keys until he finally managed to get into his apartment, cursing at the keys for being so difficult and throwing his jacket on the floor in a fit of temper.

"Callum?" Rory called out. He couldn't see him but he could swear that he smelt food. He walked through to the living area and peered around the corner to see that his dining table had been cleared and cleaned. And that there was a steaming dish of pasta with sauce on it. Accompanied by what looked to be a tumbler of vodka, a glass of water, and a piece of kitchen towel folded neatly as though it were a real napkin.

"Cal?"

"Uh...uhhh....ummm.... I'm sorry...umm... I'm sorry," He could hear him but he still couldn't see him.

"Cal where are you?"

"Umm... I'm sorry. I'm...umm..." Callum peeked out from under the table, cluthing on to his filthy teddy tightly. "I mm... made you f...food and I've waited. I p...pr... promise. I haven't had any."

Rory crouched down and slowly worked his way towards where Callum was still half hiding.

"I've been good," Callum whispered. "M...m...mmm...master Hayden can know I've been good." Rory let his head fall forward as he sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "I know. You've been the best sweetheart. Ok? The best. What do you want me to do? You can say. I want you to say."

"Umm..." Callum nudged closer to Rory, haltingly, stiltingly. An inch at a time and bending as he went until his cheek was pressed to the floor by Rory's knee. "Please eat... please... I'm sorry it's not better. I'll try harder next time."

Rory sighed and gently rubbed his fingers through Callum's hair. "No pain for this ok? And then I'll eat."

Beneath his fingers he felt Callum nod.

[whump-it]

Rory Linden; International Man Of Disaster! Oh Rory.

@pepperonyscience

[whump-it]

Rory!! I love him! I might have missed it, but what does he look like?

Hello lovely anon! Rory is wonderful and a disaster and should be given all the love! His face claim is Dylan o Brien. Allow me to present Rory Linden; International Man Of Disaster and Callum's soulmate!