Chapter Text
Lacchu came to the mechanic’s shop that afternoon, two strangers at his heels.
The four Gond brothers were careful how they interacted in public. They had all disappeared into their roles in Delhi, and to any casual observer, they were just casual acquaintances who met occasionally in the market or festivities. They rarely met at their shops, even rarer at their homes.
For Lacchu to come to Bheem's place of work and with two strange men, was a red flag.
Fixing machinery was surprisingly soothing for Bheem. He had learnt the trade easily, moving quickly from a cursory knowledge of how to clean and dismantle parts to skill that surprised his master.
“Once you understand what is wrong, it is simple to fix,” Bheem said, to his adopted Nanna. “Machines are less complicated than people.”
The old man laughed at that and conceded the point.
He was poring over a job now, the distraction a welcome one from his despairing thoughts about Malli. When they had left the village, he believed they would find Malli in a matter of days, rescue her in a matter of weeks. But days had rolled to weeks to months and they didn’t even know if she was…
Bheem banished that thought. The idea of Loki’s beautiful, cheeky daughter being anything but … present in this world did not bear consideration. But then if some stories were to be believed, the alternatives were not much better. Since Bheem and his brothers arrived in Delhi, they’d learnt nothing of Malli’s whereabouts, but heard far too much about the fate that met young Indian children that ended up in the hands of these colonizers.
Once, the old man had wondered if it won’t be better if Malli was dead. The others had immediately shouted him down, and Bheem hadn’t spoken to him for two days. But if he were honest with himself, it was because the man voiced what they all feared.
These were the thoughts that were brooding through his mind, when Lacchu interrupted the sanctuary of his work with two sstrange men.
One of the men was a senior, and Bheem greeted him with respect, even as he sent a quick questioning glance at his friend.
“How can I help you, sir?” he asked, letting the natural friendliness show on his face, and not the suspicion he felt inside, especially to the other man whose back was to him as he wandered around, examining the half-finished jobs lying on around the shop.
“They will help us!” Lacchu said, beaming. “They also seek revenge against the-”
Bheem rushed forward, and clamped his hand over his brother’s mouth. “Your sense of humor will kill us one day, brother,” he said, with a nervous laugh at the older man.
The man nodded. “You are right to be careful. Walls have ears. But you don’t need to hide from us. We know who you are and we want to help.”
Bheem’s heart failed, and he gave Lacchu a quick look that must have shown some of his anger because Lacchu had the grace to cringe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” said a cool voice behind him.
Bheem almost jumped out of his skin. The other man had moved up to them so silently, Bheem hadn’t noticed until he spoke. Now he could see his face. He stood at Bheem’s height, and seemed his age, maybe older by a few years but not more. His face was bearded, but in an elegant way that told Bheem that it was for style not religion or caste. He was smiling kindly but… Bheem noticed with a pang of suspicion… the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They were intelligent eyes, sharp and won’t miss anything.
They were also completely lifeless.
He reminded Bheem of a jungle creature, and not in a good way. Everything inside Bheem told him not to trust this man.
“You are going after the Governor. We want to help.” When Bheem started to protest, the man continued in that same cool voice. “You need help. You’ve been in Delhi for months now, and you’re no closer to rescuing your girl.”
Bheem glared at Lacchu. Just how much had he told these strangers?
“He has means,” Lacchu blurted. “And he wants to go after Scott as much as we do. We-”
Bheem came to a decision quickly. “Lacchu, go to the back and help me get oil. Now.” He said sharply. Lacchu winced but did as he was told.
Alone, Bheem turned to the strangers. “We cannot talk here,” he said firmly. “This family knows nothing about who we are,” he prayed Lacchu hadn’t betrayed even that, “and I won’t endanger them by bringing this here. I will finish my jobs by evening and we can talk then.”
The two men glanced at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.
The older man finally turned to Bheem, and nodded. “We will come back.”
“No,” Bheem said firmly. The younger man started opening his mouth to protest and Bheem said quickly, “we will come to you. Where do you live?”
His face tightened and Bheem expected – hoped, more like – that the man would refuse to endanger his own self that way. But he smiled that cool smile and gave Bheem an address that he would have to ask questions to find. No matter.
“Raju,” he said, and stretched his hand out in the foreigner’s style of greeting. “This is my babai.”
Bheem took it. “Aktar.”
It seemed like the handshake lasted longer than it needed to be. When he let Bheem’s hand go, Bheem resisted the urge to shake it out. His arm had broken out in goosebumps.
For the first time, real emotion shone in those flat eyes. Surprise.
Even the older man noticed, looking at his nephew in surprise. He was the one who said their goodbyes. “We will see you then,” he said and gave Bheem a friendly smile. The other man recovered, and added his own cold smile.
Bheem barely managed to return it.
“Until then.”
He stood at the entrance to the shop and watched them walk away. At the end of the street, Raju looked back with those flat eyes, and waved as if he knew Bheem was watching. Bheem blinked, and when he looked again, the two had turned the corner and disappeared.
Bheem realized what creature the man reminded him of.
The way he moved quietly on silent feet. The flat, dead eyes.
A snake.
Lacchu, what have you done?