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The stairs creaked horribly as Abe and Crig made their way to the second floor. Each noise their footfalls caused made Abe’s heart beat just a little faster. Though to his surprise and growing anxiety, those were the only sounds his ears could register.
“Where is everyone?” Abe whispered to Crig as they reached the landing. The dim lights of the apartment complex offered little in the way of visibility, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that they seemed to be the only ones present.
“Probably out looking for you,” Crig answered. “Be a pretty big pay day for anyone who brought your sorry hide in,” the Slig laughed before moving into one of the many branching hallways, impatiently motioning for Abe to follow when he noticed the Mudokon was still standing by the stairs. Abe hesitated for a moment before forcing his feet to move, the fear and doubt inside his head growing ever more relentless the closer the two got to their destination.
Crig didn’t wait for him to catch up, instead continuing down the hall. Abe eventually fell back into stride beside the one armed Slig, glancing down at his guide more times than not. He had no weapon on him, as far as Abe could tell, and that had been somewhat of a relief when they met up. But the relief did not last long, as Abe was fully aware that whether or not Crig had a weapon, he was still completely at his mercy.
This was not an ideal situation, but it had been a last minute arrangement for last minute news. Somehow, word had spread that the infamous Mudokon terrorist would be passing through town for whatever reason. Now the city was on high alert, and getting through would be even more dangerous then it would have been already. At a loss for what to do and with little time to come up with a new plan, the Slig had offered his services.
“You can hide at my place,” the Slig had piped up from his corner of the Rehab, having already been there when Abe had arrived to talk to Alf about the situation. Abe had been whispering, but apparently the other heard just enough to get the gist of the issue.
“Hey, that's a good idea!” Alf had agreed to Crig’s offer before Abe had a chance to speak, and the arrangement was set.
“Just give me a little time to map out a route,” Crig said, telling Abe to meet up with him later just outside the city limits. As time passed and it grew closer to the time he was supposed to leave, Abe could not stop himself from voicing his doubts about Crig’s reliability, to which Alf had assured him otherwise.
“Oh, he’ll be there,” Alf said, “And if he ain’t, you come on back and we’ll figure something else out, and I’ll be sure to pour a nice cup of boiling water all over him if he ever dares to show his ugly mug around here again.” Abe refrained from expressing his issues with the entire arrangement as a whole.
They met before the sun had set and reached the city by nightfall. The idea was that most would think that Abe had already been in the city by now, so the plan was to hide out at Crig’s for most of the night, then head out when he hoped everyone assumed he had already slipped through their fingers.
That was the plan, anyway.
“You seriously couldn’t do this some other time?” Crig’s sudden question made the blue Mudokon jump. Abe floundered for a bit before finding his words.
“It’s a time sensitive thing,” he eventually mumbled.
Crig waited, expecting a little more information. When he realized that his Mudokon companion was no longer giving him frequent side glances and was instead looking everywhere but at him, he realized he wasn’t getting anything beyond what he had just received.
“Whatever,” he said, “I’ve got all night to grill ya, and if you’re still keen on giving me the silent treatment, I’ll just get the info from Alf later.”
Crig picked up the pace, Abe falling behind again as the other made a point of speeding things along. By the time Abe caught up with him, Crig had stopped in front of one of the many doors that lined the hallway. He rummaged around in his pants for a moment before pulling out a key, slipping it into the lock and opening the door. He motioned with his remaining arm as he stepped aside, presenting the open doorway as if it were a prize Abe had just won.
“After you,” he said.
Abe was hesitating again, but this time he couldn’t get his feet to listen to him. He stared into the darkness of the room in front of him, and only tore his eyes away to glance back the way they had come, all the stress that his brain had been building up coming to a head.
Abe barely suppressed a yell when he felt a hand close around his wrist, a crushing and warm grip encircling it as Crig forcefully dragged him into the room. The door slammed shut behind them, Crig having kicked it closed with a mechanical leg. The dinky lights from the hall were completely shut out, and the two were completely encased in the darkness of the apartment room, the only existing light coming from Crig’s mask. Abe could still feel the Slig’s hand around his wrist, and the only thing he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest.
The red light from Crig’s mask shifted to rest on Abe’s face as the Slig looked up at him.
“Ya know, for someone with actual legs of his own, you seem to be havin’ a bit of trouble using ‘em,” with that said, Crig released Abe’s wrist and walked away from him. The room was immediately flooded with light, and Abe tried to shield his eyes from the sudden onslaught. He blinked a few times to try and subdue the pain, and he quickly spotted Crig leaning against the door, locking it as he stared at him from across the tiny room.
“Welcome,” he drawled, letting his arm fall back to his side, “Take a seat anywhere you’d like.”
Abe stayed where he was as he glanced around the room. There was a bed, and a desk with a chair. He didn’t have time to register anything else before he heard a metal foot slam against the worn out wood of the floor.
“I swear if you don’t move–!”
Abe chose the bed, plopping down on the edge unceremoniously. He cradled his bruised wrist in his lap as he watched his Slig companion visibly relax.
“There, was that so hard? Why don’t you take a nap while you're at it. You look like you’re about to pass out,” the Slig walked over to his desk, swinging the chair around so that it was facing the bed.
“Or,” he said as he took a seat, “We could talk.”
“I’m not tired,” Abe muttered.
“Then I guess we’re talking. Also, that’s a complete lie. Everytime I see you, you look like you're on the verge of passing out. Do you ever sleep?”
“Not much…” Abe said.
The answer took Crig slightly aback. He was so used to Alf’s constant snarky comebacks, that hearing Abe’s honest admission was strange to his ears. An awkward silence fell over the room, and the two simply stared at each other. Any other time the silence would have been welcomed by the Slig, the quiet making it a prime environment to write his articles. But this silence was simply grating.
Crig noticed that Abe was absently rubbing his wrist. Seeing an easy excuse to fill the space between them, he went for it.
“Come on! I didn’t grab you that hard,” he said. Abe flinched, removing his hand from his wrist and placing it on the bed. Silence returned once more, and Crig inwardly cursed at himself. He would have to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t Alf. He’d need a different type of approach altogether for this particular Mudokon.
With that in mind, Crig got up from his chair and walked over to Abe, the Mudokon tensing up as he got closer. He stopped right in front of him and extended his hand.
“Lemme see it, and don’t make me grab it again unless you want more damage done.”
After a moment passed, Abe did as he was told. He tentatively placed his hand into Crig’s, the other slowly turning it to examine the wrist in full.
“Alright, maybe I was a bit rough,” he admitted, eyeing the newly formed bruise that wrapped around Abe’s wrist.
Despite the fact that he knew it must have hurt, Crig couldn’t help himself as he asked, “Does this hurt?” He quickly let go and gave a swift flick with his fingers to the bruised flesh. Abe let out a sharp gasp from the sudden pain as he immediately pulled his hand back and held it against his chest.
Crig laughed, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I promise you can hit me back later. Now scoot over, I got something that’ll help.”
Abe’s first response was to glare at him, and this managed to actually surprise the Slig. So far he had only ever received worried or down right terrified looks from him, and Crig half-heartedly wondered if Abe would end up killing him before the night was over. Or vice versa.
“Come on, scoot,” he said, motioning with his hand. Abe complied this time. Once he was out of the way, Crig dropped to his stomach and crawled under the bed, a very specific item visible in his mind.
“I know it’s here somewhere!” he said as he shifted various things around. He finally came upon what he desired, the symbol for Vykkers Labs staring back at him from against the wall. Snagging the tube, he wiggled out from under the bed and got back on his feet.
“Wrist,” Crig said as he popped open the lid. Abe examined the tube, still holding his wrist close to his chest.
“I can do it,” Abe said, realizing what the stuff was for.
Crig shook his head, “No way. This stuff ain’t cheap, so I’m not risking you wasting a single bit of it.” He held back until Abe finally relented and put his hand out again.
He squeezed some of the numbing cream onto the bruised skin. Once he was satisfied with the amount he snapped the lid shut and tossed the tube onto the bed. He watched as Abe began to gingerly rub the cream into his bruised flesh, and Crig couldn’t resist the urge to further mess with the Mudokon.
“Ya know,” Crig idly began, “I use this stuff all the time, but I’ve got no clue if it works on Muds or not. You might end up having some horrible allergic reaction, like your skin melting off or something. Guess you’ll find out the hard way.”
Abe immediately stopped what he was doing to stare at his wrist in horror as Crig began to laugh.
“Hey don’t worry! You’ll probably be fine. Now I think you need just a little bit more...” the Slig made to grab the cream once again as Abe shook his head and scooted away from the other.
“N-no, it’s fine,” Abe said.
“Come on,” Crig said as he moved to undo the space Abe had put between them. He stood in front of the Mudokon again as he waved the tube in his face, “Just a little bit more!” Abe’s response was to lean back further onto the bed, but the slight distance the Mudokon gained did little to dissuade Crig’s efforts.
“You said you didn’t want to waste any of it. What do you use it for?” Abe asked. This got Crig to stop waving the tube around to examine the other’s face, and he realized that there was a genuine look of curiosity mixed in with the ever present fear. He weighed the possible responses he could give before settling on something he knew would hit the mark.
“My missing arm,” he finally said, dropping his left arm to his side and moving what remained of his right. “Sometimes it still hurts…” he added. He noticed Abe’s eyes shift to his severed arm, and a look he couldn’t help but associate with pity now crossed the other’s face. While Abe was distracted, Crig smacked the flat end of the tube against Abe’s chest, and Abe had to quickly prop himself up to keep from falling over.
“I’ll tell ya how I lost it if you let me put a little more on,” Crig said in a playful manner, completely opposite to the tone he’d used merely seconds ago.
Abe did his best to shift away from the pressure on his chest, “Uh, you lost it to a slot machine, didn’t you?” he said.
“What? Who told you that?” Crig smacked the tube against Abe’s chest again as he spoke, “I was gonna say I lost it chasing your sorry blue ass!”
Abe shrunk back as best he could, “Alf told me…”
Another smack, “Course he’d say that! You know he’s full of shit, right?”
“He says the same about you,” the response was quick, and Abe was already regretting it as he felt Crig push the tube even harder against his chest.
Then the Slig laughed, “Yeah, he would say that!” Crig gave Abe one final smack before he shrugged and said, “Guess you’ll never know the truth.”
Sighing, Crig stepped back from the bed and dropped the tube to the floor. He then kicked it back under the bed, and Abe winced as he heard it collide with the wall.
“Alright, you win. No more potentially skin melting cream, so that means it’s time for something else,” the Slig motioned with his now free hand for Abe to come forward. “Come on, you can’t properly hit me from there,” he said.
“W-what?” Abe asked.
“You hit me now, like I said earlier,” Crig turned the left side of his body towards Abe and leaned forward a bit to present the upper part of his arm.
Abe shook his head, “Uh, no, that’s okay,” he said.
“Worried I’ll shoot ya if you hit too hard? Don’t be,” Crig reached into his pants as he’d done earlier, but he didn’t pull out a key this time.
Abe pushed himself completely onto the bed now, his back colliding with the wall as he smacked into it, his eyes staying firmly glued to the gun Crig now held in his hand.
Crig snickered, “Aw, don’t be scared! It ain’t even loaded.” To prove his point, Crig pointed the gun towards the floorboards and pulled the trigger.
The resounding bang made them both jump, the bullet easily passing through the old wooden floor to the room below them. The room now smelt of gunpowder, and the smoke lazily drifted up from the barrel of the small gun, disappearing as easily as it moved.
“Ah, whoops,” Crig said, “Guess there was still one left in the chamber.”
“You said it wasn’t loaded,” Abe barely registered that he’d spoken, his ears ringing from the shot and the sound of his own blood pumping taking center stage. His limbs shook and he kept trying to push himself further away, but the wall against his back was a firm reminder that there was nowhere to go.
Crig waved the gun around dismissively, “It was a premature truth. Now the gun’s empty,” Crig pulled the trigger a few more times in succession. No more bullets left it, and the consistent clicking was the only sound that now greeted them.
“Well,” Crig leaned down slightly and examined the bullet hole in his floor, “The guy below us is either not home or dead now. Either way, we don’t have to worry about it, and you don’t have to worry about this,” he waved the firearm one final time before tossing it onto the desk behind him.
Abe stayed where he was. He’d pulled his knees to his chest and was still pressing his back firmly against the wall. He glanced down at the hole in the floor, a sense of deja-vu flashing through his mind.
“You’ve done this before, at the Rehab…” Abe trailed off, elaborating a bit when Crig tilted his head in confusion.
“Oh yeah, I remember that!” Crig said. “I knew my gun was loaded that time though. Does Alf still have the holes in his floor? I keep forgetting to check when I’m there,” he snickered as he continued, “I’ve never seen him so mad. It was hilarious, and the look on your face when you came running in was completely priceless.”
Abe looked up from the bullet hole in the floor and back at Crig. He felt his throat tighten as he spoke, “I thought you shot him.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t do that,” Crig answered.
Abe dug his fingers into the sheets, “But why not? It’s what you're supposed to do.”
“And you’re supposed to be scrubbing floors, yet here we are.” Crig did a sweeping motion around the room, “You’re out here playing savior and I’m hiding you in my apartment. You’re welcome, by the way. I don’t think I need to elaborate on the type of trouble I would be in if you got caught here.”
“Then why are you helping me?” The question sounded more desperate than Abe had intended, and it only got worse as he continued, “You could just turn me in now and be done with it. Like you said, it’d be a pretty big pay day. I don’t… I just don’t understand why you haven’t done it already. What are you waiting for?”
Crig didn’t answer him. He merely stared at him from across the room. Abe couldn’t help but fidget as the silence stretched on, and his mind started to prompt him with the possibility that he might have just convinced his temporary guardian that handing him over was the right move.
Then the sound of Crig’s footsteps filled the room as he walked back over to the bed. He sat down this time, pushing himself back till he was propped up against the wall next to Abe. He lightly began to poke him in the side as he said, “You really gotta relax. Just looking at you makes me feel exhausted.”
Abe squirmed away from the other’s touch, but this only caused more incessant prodding on Crig’s behalf. Abe finally snapped and grabbed the Slig’s wrist.
“Why are you helping me?” Abe asked once more. Crig tried to free his hand from Abe’s grasp, but the Mudokon just responded by tightening his grip.
Crig looked up at Abe, “Let go of me and I’ll tell you.”
Abe did his best to study Crig’s face, which proved to be quite difficult since he was wearing a mask. He could just barely see Crig’s eyes staring firmly back at him through the red lenses.
“Tell me, and I’ll let you go,” Abe said.
Crig stared at Abe for a moment longer before sighing, “I’ve written enough articles about you to know that you're causing a bit of a dent in some very important wallets. I also know that you're about as fragile as the Ratz I hear scurrying around in the walls here. You’re either gonna screw up and get yourself killed, or you're gonna manage to survive long enough to accomplish whatever it is you’re trying to do. Might as well enjoy the show while it lasts.”
“But what about the moolah–?”
“Yeah, yeah, the payout would be huge. There’d be lots of fame too, and I’d probably have schmucks writing stories about me for a change. But it wouldn’t last, and everything would just go back to the way it was before you came along.” Crig attempted to pull his hand out of Abe’s grasp, but he found that the Mudokon’s grip just grew stronger as a result.
“Ya gonna let go now? I gave you your answer,” he said.
“No,” was Abe’s simple response. Abe still felt like he wasn’t getting a straight enough answer out of the Slig, and he refused to let him get away with anything less.
“Why don’t you want things to go back to the way they were?”
Crig groaned, “Okay, fine. You wanna know the types of articles I was writing before you started your little terroristic hobby? All the awful, mundane things that had me beating my head against my desk in the dead of night over how miserable it all was?” Crig finally used the hold Abe had on him against the Mudokon as he yanked the other close to his face, “Do you have any idea how boring stocks are?”
“How boring are they?” Abe asked, once he’d regained his bearings.
“They’re so boring and awful that if I ever have to write another article about the stocks going up, or down, or this one being shit and that one being great, someone’s gonna get shot.” With that, Crig shoved Abe away, but Abe still held on.
Crig sighed and finally said, “I’m bored, and you’re a form of entertainment. You do your thing, everyone else does their thing, and I write about it. Whoever wins, wins, and that’s the side I’ll be on when the dust settles. So I’m not gonna turn you in, or shoot you in the back, or do whatever else has been running through your little Mud head all night. Happy now?”
A silence fell between them. Abe studied Crig a bit more before slowly releasing his grip on the Slig. The other immediately pulled his hand away once it was free.
“Jeez, finally! You’re a hard guy to please, you know that?” Crig glanced from his wrist over to Abe when he received no response. He found the other staring intently down at the bed, no doubt going over and analyzing everything he had just told him. He could respect that, so Crig allowed the silence to return for a bit.
Just for a bit.
“So how’s your wrist? Because mine is just great, thanks for asking.”
Abe visibly cringed as he turned his attention back to the Slig.
“Sorry, I–”
Crig cut him off, “It’s whatever, so what about yours?”
Abe huffed, but went to examine his own wrist, turning it this way and that. A dull pain still radiated from it, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. He gave it an experimental bend, then immediately winced from the pain it brought.
“Looks like it’s doing just great. Want me to hit it again?” Crig asked.
Abe moved his hand out of the other’s reach when he saw Crig shift out of the corner of his eye.
“No!” Abe cried.
Crig laughed, “Kidding! I guess that means it still hurts?”
“It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but if you hit me again, I will smack you.”
Crig laughed and let the back of his head thump against the wall, “All this fire from you is a bit refreshing!”
Abe’s lips twitched ever so slightly, “You did offer.”
“I sure did! Offer still stands if you’re interested,” Crig turned his shoulder so that his upper arm was more exposed.
A small smile finally spread across Abe’s face, “I think I’ll pass again, but thank you for... well, for helping me.”
Crig gasped, “At long last, some appreciation! And a smile to boot! I really must've gotten to ya. Make sure you let Alf know how great I was. You could really teach that guy a thing or two about appreciating me. And while you’re at it, go give my boss a talk as well.”
Abe chuckled, “I’ll probably pay him a visit one day.”
“Oh, you definitely will. Just make sure you give me a little heads up before you do so I can conveniently not show up for work that day.”
“I will,” Abe paused for a moment before adding, “You know, Alf said he’d pour boiling water on you if you didn’t show up to help me.”
Crig did not seem fazed by that information, “Oh yeah, I’m sure he would. He’d do a lot worse if I let anything happen to ya, so maybe don’t mention the whole wrist thing. He’d give me an earful over that.”
“It should be fine by the time I get back. I–,” Abe cut himself off, unsure if saying exactly what he was doing was going too far. Crig’s reasonings for helping had managed to satisfy him, but they also made it clear that full trust was most likely still off the table for certain things.
Crig’s shoulders visibly slumped, “Damn, thought I was gonna get something juicy there,” he waved his hand dismissively, “Whatever. Like I said, I’ll get the info from Alf, or I’ll get the gist of it from the papers. They’ll probably have me write the story on whatever stunt you’re about to pull anyway. Now for the love of Odd, go to sleep. I wasn’t kidding about you being exhausting to look at.”
Abe shook his head, “I shouldn’t–”
“Abe,” the firmness in Crig’s voice caught him off guard, and Abe looked over to give the Slig his full attention, “Whatever you’re planning on doing, I doubt you’ll be able to do it if you pass out from exhaustion. Get some sleep. You’ll be fine.”
Abe hesitated for a moment before muttering, “Where should I…?”
“Uh, the bed? Duh.”
“But, where will you sleep?”
“I got work to do, so I’ll probably just fall asleep at my desk. Do me a favor and try not to get caught when you’re sneaking out.” Crig shifted to get off the bed, but stopped as Abe piped up.
“It has to do with eggs,” he said before he could stop himself.
“Huh?” the confusion slid into realization as what Abe said clicked into place, “Oh, you mean Mud eggs? Like the thing you pulled with Vykkers Labs?” Abe nodded his head in response.
Crig snickered, “You planning on hauling all those eggs back by yourself? Last time I checked, Mud eggs weren’t exactly the easiest things to carry around.”
“We have a thing set up, like last time. That’s why I couldn’t wait. If the eggs hatch before I can get to them…”
The mental image of Abe attempting to save a bunch of newly hatched Mudokons all crying and screaming sprung into Crig’s mind. Just imagining the noise was enough to make him shudder.
“I heard kids cut your lifespan in half,” he said.
Abe was sitting cross legged now, his hands resting in his lap as he absentmindedly rubbed at his fading bruise, “They’re cute, but the crying’s not fun…”
“Like I said, little life suckers. Worse than Fleeches if ya ask me. At least those things have the decency not to wail at the top of their lungs and expect me to do something about it.”
Abe rested the back of his head against the wall, “Would you rather look after a bunch of babies, or only get to write about stocks for the rest of your life?”
“I choose the secret third option: death, by any means. You really are the villain of this story, ‘cause only a truly evil person would ask me to choose between those two things.”
A small smile appeared on Abe’s face, his eyelids beginning to droop, “Babies aren’t that bad.”
“Are you the one looking after them after you save their sorry hides?”
“No, but I check in on them sometimes. They’re really tiny.”
“Yeah, that just about describes a baby. Along with useless, squishy, and a pain in the ass. Those kids are pretty lucky though, and they’ll show a little gratitude when they’re older if they know what’s good for ‘em.”
Abe’s eyes were completely closed when he mumbled, “They don’t have to do anything…”
“Not for your sake, but for mine. The only thing worse than a whiny little brat is an ungrateful one. I could always shoot the ones that don’t appreciate ya enough, if you’d like.”
Abe opened his eyes just enough to glare at the Slig sitting beside him.
“Not much of a reaction there, bud. You getting used to me, or are ya just too tired to get mad?”
“Tired, and maybe a little bit used to you.”
“In that case, it really is time to sleep. Can’t save a bunch of babies if you pass out on the way there,” Crig started to nudge Abe’s arm until the other relented and flopped onto his side. Crig carefully made his way off the bed, and when he looked back he was greeted to the sight of Abe all curled up, breathing evenly with his eyes closed once more. Crig quietly made his way across the room, turning off the main light once his computer had booted up. Turning his chair back towards the desk, he sat down as he pulled out the notes he would need to complete his current assignment.
“Crig?”
Crig’s fingers stalled as Abe’s soft voice reached his ears, “Sleeping Muds don’t talk,” he responded.
“Don’t shoot any kids.”
Crig let out a dramatic sigh, “Alright. I’ll just wait till they’re all grown up.” When he received no audible response, Crig turned around in his chair to find Abe in the same state he’d seen him in last. He stared at him for a few moments longer, but when it became glaringly obvious that the Mudokon was fast asleep, he relented and returned to his work.
Abe awoke to darkness a few hours later, with the only light being the dim glow of Crig’s computer monitor. Said Slig was slumped over at his desk, and judging from the sound of his breathing, was most likely asleep. Abe slowly sat up as his eyes adjusted and gently made his way off the bed. He carefully made his way across the room and reached the door. He put his ear against it and strained to hear any noise outside. When he was met with silence, he took a deep breath and turned the lock, cracking the door open just enough to peer out into the hallway. It looked clear, and Abe retreated back into the room to gather his nerves.
“Good luck.”
Abe jumped, turning his attention over to the desk to find that Crig was looking over at him. Taking a deep breath, Abe turned back to the door.
“Thank you,” Abe said, before slipping out into the hall and closing the door behind him with a soft click.