Chapter Text
Have you ever heard the fable of the boiled frog? It’s a simple analogy; a frog placed in cold water will not react as it is slowly, steadily heated to fatal levels. You might consider it as an apt way to describe yourself right now, but it wouldn’t quite work. Unlike the frog in his water, you’re very much afraid of your stalkers.
This is a risky plan and you know it. Your stalkers have been following you for months, starting with distant looks and idle chatter in public, evolving into malicious, ceaseless obsession. They say they love you, plead it incessantly even as you flee from them in terror. And three weeks ago, they almost succeeded in forcing you into their car.
And yet, they are not the worst demons in your life.
Whatever the risks are. However miniscule the chances that any of Sorbet and Gelato’s promises of love are genuine, they are worth it if it means getting away from the others.
To take the car would be too noticeable, too much an instant doom if anyone woke up and glanced out their windows. Should your plan succeed, you’ll be heading back on this occasion, so it’s important you’re able to slip back inside without suspicion. Still, inconvenient as it is to ride this bike down the winding, hole-riddled country road into town, you cannot blame the mode of transport for your shaky journey. That’ll be your nerves.
You’re shaking no less by the time you arrive, no less as you knock on the single, red door of the bar and no less as the gruff bouncer opens it to look at you maliciously.
“The fuck are you here for?” he asks, looking you over with little respect.
“I’m here for… um…” Would he know their names? You can’t say you know much about them yourself, but there’s one thing you know you can most certainly describe them as. “The couple.”
The bouncer squints. Successful recognition.
“Alright.”
You squeal as you’re grabbed by the hood and yanked into the building, not unnoticed by the patrons hunched over at their tables. The air is warm in here, sickly. The wooden walls are rotten. He shuts the door once more.
“Wait! Don’t-” you fall quiet, remembering the lecherous eyes on you. No need to draw any more attention than you already have. The bouncer drags you around the corner and points ahead.
“There.”
You see them sure enough, the couple. You know the man in the corner seat as Gelato, the wicked-smiled, never-silent creature of enigma who does most of the talking on the days they make their presence known to you. Sorbet, is as ever, beside him, fingers interlocked and eyes without a care for anything but his. Tonight there is a rare, soft smile on his face, but the ever-present gun sticks out of his pocket all the same. Couple.
You glance behind you to find your chaperone gone. You call out weakly for him, stopping mid-syllable. A few of the people around you chuckle lightly.
You can’t get your legs to move.
A breath draws into your sharply, one foot jolting a step back. There’s another chuckle from the audience. Looking around again, you see the party of one table near the door standing, looking at you wolfishly. No going back.
Legs still won’t move, though.
Finally, your eyes return to the couple. The love in their eyes for each other is so natural, comforting, almost. If these weren’t the men who had once tried to abduct you, of course, it might even be soothing. But then, it occurs to you. They’re not looking at you. They haven’t seen you yet.
You can still make yourself seem gutsy to them.
Your wish doesn’t quite prevail as you approach the pair at their solitary table as try as you might, your footsteps draw their attention before your voice can. When Gelato glances up at you there’s a condescending smirk on his face even before his eyes have reached you. Once they do, it lights up into pure excitement.
“Sorbet, look! Our sweet Topolina is here!”
You stop still as Sorbet glances over to you. You don’t quite believe it, but for the first time since you’ve known him he looks shocked. Genuinely, surprised.
“Well!-” Sorbet remarks sharply. “You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes after our last meeting, Tesoro.” His hand grasps the back of his seat, pushing himself to stand as he reverts to his snake-like sense of composure. “I must say, still, that I’d like to know why. You haven’t gotten a death wish have you? If so, I’m afraid that isn’t something we can help you with dear.” He takes a step forward, a hand resting on your shoulder in a way that makes your iron courage shatter. “But if you wanted, I’m sure we could create a similar kind of thrill.”
“No!” you snap, stepping back with less control than you would have liked. You stumble, grabbing onto his arms in a panic. “I don’t have a death wish and I’m not here to find some sick thrill. I’ve come to make a deal. For you and me.”
Sorbet chuckles lowly. He touches your shoulder once more, closer to your neck, and this time, you don’t have the bravery to shrug it off. “Oh, that’s very cute.” You meet his eye nervously… god, he’s taller than you’ve ever noticed before. And right in your face. You look at Gelato instead, but find no reassurance in the dazed, impatient glance he gives you, before averting his attention to his pockets. “But that isn’t how this works.”
“That’s not!- Listen, I know what you guys want and-” Gelato, in front of you, draws a knife, admiring it pridefully as he runs his finger parallel to the serrated edge. Eyeing you briefly, as though it’s your reaction he’s specifically after, he reaches into his rucksack and pulls out more horror. Zip-ties. Then, duct tape.
Fight or flight.
“No!”
Sorbet grasps at your sleeve as you turn tail and run. You only make it two steps of course before he catches you, dragging you down more with every futile jerk of your struggling form.
“Shhh-” Sorbet hushes you, his breath hitching into a deep giggle at the end of the noise. In your peripheral vision you can see Gelato walking over, swinging the zip-ties idly on his finger.
And then, for the second time since you met them, something in your urge to prevail breaks loose.
“STOP!”
You dig your fingers into Sorbet’s face, hauling up your knee to knock his hand off your side. You roll free, scrambling to your feet and just as he’s about to lunge to grab you again-
Draw your knife.
They both still so fast it’s as though they weren’t human. The patrons around you, so amused by your suffering thus far, go silent in shock. Sorbet and Gelato look at each other, surprised, then indifferent.
“Alright. I suppose we should have seen that coming,” Sorbet shrugs. Gelato drops the zip-ties and pulls out his chair again. You half-lower the small flip-knife, still moving it between them warningly.
“Yeah. After last time you should have. But I did not come out this far for you to belittle and ignore me. So, the three of us are going to step outside, and you are going to hear me out. Got it?”
“Hmm, why not?” Sorbet agrees.
“That’s where the car is anyway,” adds Gelato. You try to ignore his comment, and lead them out the bar, onto the street.
It’s raining now, not hard enough to disturb your imminent speaking but hard enough to make a damp chill. They are holding hands, in the silence. Gelato is playing subconsciously with the bronze ring on Sorbet’s finger. Or maybe consciously. Who knows?
“Better make this good, Tesoro. You’ve certainly surprised us with that cute blade but we could still overpower you with a little effort,” he warns.
“Right- whatever. I’m not here to try and get rid of you, or whatever you think like that. I… I need a favour. And I was just praying that if you really did want what’s best for me a fraction of the amount you always say then maybe you could help me out. That’s all.”
Sorbet’s eyes widen in that newly familiar look of surprise.
“Alright, go on,” he concedes.
“I- You know about my… home situation, yes?”
“Of course sweetie. It’s why we’re trying so hard to help you leave it, after all,” Gelato smiles. If that’s what he calls everything they’ve done to you, then at this point you’re too tired to question it.
“Well, I wanted you to help me with that.”
“By running away together?” Gelato asks excitedly. You fumble for a way to let him down on the matter.
“Um- not exactly.”
You draw in breath as a clear look of annoyance spreads across his face.
“Let’s hear them out darling,” Sorbet saves you. “I’m interested to know what else you have in mind.”
“You guys are assassins. You mentioned it a couple times before. My plan was to, well, hire you,” you explain.
Both of them go quiet. It occurs to you very vividly that they might be about to laugh in your face and return to their original intentions. But then, they turn to each other and smile gleefully. But it’s not a glee at your expense.
“It would be our pleasure, Darling,” Sorbet affirms.
“Really? Just like that?” You stammer. After all you’ve just been through, that felt too easy. “I mean- good- I just… how soon can you do it?”
“If you wanted we could drive out now and start shooting,” Gelato shrugs mirthfully. “But…”
“...We prefer to have a little time to prepare our kills, even if we are more eclectic than most in our field,” Sorbet finishes for him.
“Still, these people who are hurting you- they’re crooks, but not, big, right?”
“No. As far as I’m aware our- their group is way smaller than yours. They’re not very well protected,” you tell Gelato. He looks to Sorbet for advice.
“Well in that case,” Sorbet surmises, “We can probably make do with a couple days of planning, then go. What do you think?”
“That- That’s amazing, thank you.”
You realise how easy those words slipped out of you and are thankful that the dark night conceals your flustered demeanour. “What do you need from me?”
“A map would be helpful,” Sorbet tells you. “Nothing fancy, just a rudimentary idea of the layout scrawled onto some paper. Speaking of…”
He pulls a pen from his pocket as well as a crumpled receipt. He writes down something rapidly on the reverse.
“Our address,” he hands to you. “It’s probably closer to your house than this place is, so it shouldn’t be too hard to get there on that little bike. Can you come see us tomorrow night? To make sure we’re in agreement on the details, nothing more. Don’t come if it’s not safe.”
“It’s safe…” you answer. “As long as I’m not reckless there’s no reason I can’t disappear for a few hours in the night and not be caught but… your house?”
“Oh sweetheart, if it was a trap we wouldn’t have any reason to bother tricking you.”
“Right…”
“You could always, you know, avoid the trouble,” Gelato suggests. “You could come with us now and never have to see them again. I’m sure it would be much easier for you.”
“I’m sorry,” you shake your head. “That won’t be happening.”
Hands clasped, you turn back towards your bike rested against the wall of the bar. “Goodbye.”
They don’t protest your rudeness as you climb onto your ride and pedal onto the road. You’re almost out of practical earshot when Gelato finally calls out for you.
“One question, sweetheart.”
You place your foot on the ground, looking back at him nervously.
“What will you do after this? Will you be ours when they’re dead?”
You kick off without a response.
Maybe it’s a question you know the answer to. Maybe it’s not. All you know is you aren’t ready to tell them. Not just yet.