Work Text:
Niss' eyes were barely even focused on his work as he picked up the freshly-cleaned, disassembled parts of one of his pistols and began putting it back together. The parts of the gun fit back together with a familiar click and, after running his eyes over the surface of the weapon, Niss put it into its place in the open briefcase on his desk next to the three fully-loaded backup magazines for it.
This was the tenth briefcase exactly like it he had put together in the last several hours.
He was in charge of prepping for one of his dad's more dangerous affairs. After the last Extermination, there was newly contested territory between their Family and another's - territory that his father had set his eyes on. They'd arranged a negotiations meeting with representatives with the rival family, and his father had made it exceedingly clear that he wasn't taking no for an answer. So, if diplomacy didn't work out in his favor, Henroin had decided to do what he always did, and apply excessive amounts of violence to get his way. Typical.
"NISS! I'M HOME!" Niss heard a muffled shout from several walls away, at the front door; Pen was back from his errands. Niss didn't bother answering - shouting wasn't exactly his style, and Pen probably already knew where he was, anyway. He went back about his business.
The Family had told him to bring an arsenal fit for a party, and if anything was his specialty, it was weapons. While Pen was gone, he'd loaded dozens of backup magazines with rounds, sharpened as many knives, cleaned every pistol he owned, and wired multiple explosive charges to a burner phone speed-dial. If there was a party to be had, the Family could rest assured knowing he'd had brought every tool necessary to crash it.
Despite that, to say he wasn't thrilled with the situation was, to say the least, an understatement. As of late, he'd been pulling back from the Family, trying to limit his contact with them. He was an assassin at heart, but the things the Family asked him to do had started to leave a sour taste in his mouth. His suspicion was that the Family - or at least his father - had realized he was distancing himself, and intended to drag him back whether he wanted it or not. That's why he was being made to run point on these "negotiations." At least, that's what he assumed.
Niss heard the bedroom door swing open behind him, then the quiet sound of Pen sliding his way into the room.
"Did you get what you needed at the store?" Niss asked, mostly absentmindedly as he continued packing up his arsenal.
"Yeah, got it..." Pen trailed off as he saw the freshly-cleaned arsenal that Niss was methodically checking and packing away into briefcases and bags. "You're not packing for just another hit, are you?"
Niss turned around to look back at Pen, then back down at his cases of weapons. He hadn't realized until now just how overloaded he was.
"Bit more than just a hit. Pops is...negotiating...with anotha' Family over a territory dispute. Neither side's suppose'ta to bring any guns, so of course that means everyone's gonna be armed to the teeth. Basically a tradition at this point."
"That sounds...dangerous." Niss didn't have to see Pen to feel the look of concern on his face. "When is this going down?"
"Tomorra' night, at some fancy restaurant."
"I don't like it." Niss still wasn't looking, but if he had to guess, Pen had just crossed his arms. He was terribly predictable sometimes.
"I don' eitha'." The spider closed the lid on the briefcase and turned to look back at Pen. "But Pops made it crystal clear that I was comin'. Son a' the boss is a no-show and it either looks suspicious or it looks bad fah' the whole Family."
Pen came across the room and swept his gaze across the expansive arsenal on the desk and floor around the spider. Briefcases, boxes of ammo, knives and sharpeners, a few carefully-stored grenades, and yet more unpacked pistols and rifles littered the area. Niss' own weapon of choice, his heavy sniper rifle, was leaning against the wall.
"I didn't realize you owned this many weapons."
"Most of them are the Family's. I'm just in charge of getting them ready." Niss ran a finger over the briefcase he'd just packed. "Gotta make sure all of Pop's minions are armed and ready for when the folks we're meeting say no."
Pen raised an eyebrow at the spider's phrasing. "Don't you mean IF they say no?"
Niss silently shook his head. Pen let out a long concerned exhale, taking another look around at the arsenal. He didn't say it out loud, but Niss could see the cogs turning in the snake's thoughts and hear the question that he wasn't asking: If this is what you're bringing, what kind of firepower are you up against?. It was a question that Niss didn't know the answer to, and that scared even him a little bit.
"Be careful, Niss. Your hits, those are one thing. You're a sniper, you're usually at a safe distance. This is different, more dangerous." Pen put one hand on either of Niss' cheeks and leaned down for a quick kiss on his forehead. "I don't want to lose you."
Niss looked down at the floor. On the one hand, he knew he had no choice in the matter - he was, despite his true feelings, his father's right-hand man, and he had to be there for the negotiations. On the other hand, he knew how much even a clean and safe hit made Pen worry about him. Emotions were never his strong point - too complicated. He felt angry at the Family, nervous about the danger, guilty for making Pen worry, and frustrated at having no choice, all at once, and he had no idea how to deal with any of it. He couldn't tell if he needed a drink, a hug, to shoot something, or some combination in between.
"You okay down there?" Pen's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn't realized it, but he was hyperventilating and still staring at the same spot on the floor, and he had absolutely no idea how long he had been stuck like that.
Niss shook his head as if it could clear his thoughts before looking back up at the snake. "Yeah, all good. Just need to finish packing up a few more things."
"You're a terrible liar, you know that, right?"
Niss looked away towards the window, slightly flush with guilt. "Sorry. Just habit."
Without a warning, the snake reached over, grabbed Niss around the waist and hoisted him over his right shoulder, then made for the door.
"Pen, put me down, I gotta finish packin' my stuff."
"Nope. You can finish that tomorrow. You're coming downstairs, we're going to make dinner and you're going to relax for a few hours, then get a good night's sleep."
"I should really finish packing first..."
"I don't recall giving you a choice in the matter."
"Fineeeee." Niss conceded with a loud sigh. "What do you want for dinner?"