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Kid should have started panicking when Killer hadn't shown up in time. Of course, he understood that it was not always possible to return at the same time: he himself was often late.
His partner was a patient hunter, despite his name. It seemed that he could sit all day fishing or ambushing rare small animals. And it is unknown how long Killer can hunt like this to provide them with food. Although Kid always didn’t mind eating wild berries or rotten apples from someone’s trees (“This is not food, Kid.” Killer’s blaming voice is heard in his head).
When the sky had completely darkened, Kid began to worry, sitting on the railing of a huge, broken ship, which they called their home and base. He kept looking over the horizon, trying to find the familiar head of golden hair running with a victorious bunch of rabbits. A garland was lit at the stern so that he could find his way home. But the more time passed, the more nervous Kid felt. Something was wrong.
"Maybe he decided to spend the night in ambush?" Kid thought aloud, because the silence began to affect him negatively.
He stood up from the railing onto the rotten wood and, looking at the horizon, went to the switch. No matter how much it was needed now, they had a special rule at the base: never leave the lights on for too long. To avoid attracting attention to themselves, they go to bed at 11, although Kid ends up tinkering in the pitch dark (“You’ll ruin your eyesight, Kid,” he remembered Killer’s sleepy voice).
Now he stayed up late to catch his partner's arrival... But it never happened.
In the morning, when Kid woke up from his slumber, he realized that there was still no trace of his partner. He washed his face to wash away the fatigue after a sleepless night, and then went to look for him.
To begin with, he decided to check the place that Killer told him about, hoping to see him falling asleep somewhere in the grass. But there he found only a field and barely noticeable rabbits swaying the grass.
His second guess was that Killer couldn’t catch anything, so he went to the market to stock up. But Kid found neither him nor even any mention of the fact that he was here. On top of that, many people who knew them and couldn’t stand them said that “if we've noticed your asses in the crowd, we would definitely remember it.”
Then Kid ran to the lake, where they usually fished, and got shellfish. There were only grasshoppers chirping.
He destroyed a couple of bandit bases, only to realize that Killer wasn't there either.
Kid had never been so worried. Where is his friend? Where did he go? What's happened!?
"KILLER!" Kid shouted to the entire island, "IT'S AIN'T FUNNY, IDIOT! GET OUT!!"
He would have beaten him if it were a joke. But, Lord, let it be just a bad prank!
In response to his screams, only a few bandits came out.
“Whatcha yelling at? Do ye wanna die, boy!?”
Kid looked at them angry. He spent another hour beating them and forcing them to look for his friend with him.
As a result, after an unsuccessful search, he returned to the base all tired and angry. The knuckles on his hands ached unpleasantly, but he didn’t care, he just covered the abrasions with a rag and began to pace around the room, not knowing where else he could look for Killer.
Killer planned to hunt in silence. Fighting off pirates wasn't in his plans. The guys, apparently, had just arrived and decided to set up camp nearby. Well, it was worse for them - they scared away all those rabbits that he wanted to catch.
Killer never expected that he could be surpassed. Over the years of experience gained in battle, numerical superiority wasn't something dangerous for him, but here he was simply taken by surprise. It is unknown how, but he fell into the hands of these pirates.
Somehow, they decided to teach him a lesson, and his “handsome face” gave them an idea.
This continued for 24 hours, 20 hours after his capture. It took him twenty hours to completely fight back and take revenge, after which he quickly ran away from the empty ship. All these twenty hours, he terribly wanted to scream or call Kid for help, but in his head, he understood that since he couldn't cope with them - a hefty seventeen-year-old killer, then a small, undergrown 13-year-old would certainly not be able to. Fuck the fact that he is stronger than ordinary thirteen-year-olds. Fuck it all! His friend's safety is more important to him!
By the time he returned home, he saw that the garland was burning on the ship. Stupid Kid. Breaks the rules again.
Laughter almost left his lips. Killer managed to miss these lights greatly. It was dark outside, and he didn't even know if he would have been able to find the ship if not for the light that Kid had so carefully left for him.
It was terribly painful to walk. It was as if his intestines were being torn out from the inside and were being wound in a meat grinder, but he endured. He'll have time to puke when he gets home.
The pain really made him nauseous. It seemed that, along with the inverted intestines, his stomach would also turn out. And the pancreas and throat. With every movement, something inside twitched, contracted, and stabbed. It stabbed inexorably. It was as if he had been stabbed with a knife. After this, he is supposed to go to sleep. Killer will simply fall on the mattress and pass out for two weeks. Please... He won't even mind Kid's snoring, or his night work, or his songs, or his limbs on him, or his... Just let Kid be there. He was very tired...
Kid looked at his watch again before turning back to the map. With a pencil for his drawings, he drew another cross. Soon the entire island was covered in them—the stages of his despair.
It was terrible. With each passing hour, the hope of finding Killer faded. Thoughts began to spin in his head. What if he got lost? What if someone kidnapped him? Suddenly he was killed!? If anyone even laid a finger on Killer, he...
“I’m here...” Kid almost jumped in his chair when he heard a familiar voice.
The neck clicked painfully when he turned his head towards the entrance to their room. At that moment, a lot of thoughts were running through his head. Where he was? What did he do? Why did he leave him? But they all died down when Kid saw how bad his partner was.
As far as he could see in the dim light, Killer had at least 2% intact parts. His face was completely bruised and abrased, his eyes were literally bloodshot, and his lips were all cracked, regardless of his purple lipstick. It seemed that his whole body was shaking under its own weight, unable to withstand the damage that was inflicted on it. Under the unstretched shirt, a bunch of stains ranging from yellow to bright red were visible. There was blood everywhere.
“Fuck...” Was all Kid could say out of shock.
He slowly came closer, as if he could kill Killer with just one rush towards him. In response, he received only an outstretched hand as a sign to wait.
“I’m fine.... Everything’s fine...” Killer wheezed.
He could immediately hear how his voice was failing him. As Kid could see, it was difficult for him to even stand. Questions began to swirl on his tongue again. He wanted to find out who did it. Who hurt him so badly? Where are they now? Are they here? All this made his heart beat loudly, so much so that there was an unpleasant buzz in his ears.
“Kil!..” He growled impatiently, already preparing to smash his hands harder against someone.
Seeing this, Killer sighed heavily. He immediately realized that all this couldn't be explained to him quickly.
"Kid..." His hands went to the kid's shoulders.
At least this way he won’t be able to leave him, that’s what the elder thought. But his legs could no longer hold him up, and unfortunately, every breath he took made his guts pound in pain again. All the carefully chosen words came out of him with the usual long exhalation—a way to overcome wild agony. But his eyes only grew darker, and along with the air, he almost vomited.
“Just help me get to bed,” Killer said almost through clenched teeth, leaning harder on Kid.
With the weight increasing on his body, Kid was distracted from his angry thoughts. It looks like he's starting to fall.
"Wait-.. Kil-... You-.. WHOA!" Before finding their balance, both fell to the floor.
Kid felt the air knocked out of him, along with his ribs and insides. On him lied the huge 195-centimeter (albeit looking very skinny) body of his friend. They both let out their own groans of pain.
“Kil... Get off of me, asshole!..” Kid croaked with heaviness.
“I can’t...” Killer muttered in response, “I think I'm done...”
His forehead was pressed to the floor. On the one hand, it was so nice that he took a horizontal position. That way, he won't move anymore. But on the other, it seems that something burst inside him, and dark spots began to spread at that very second. One question arose in his head: is this what death looks like?
“Kid, I think I’m dying...” The only thing Killer could mutter into Kid’s ear before closing his tired eyes.
"..-uck, are ye dying!?" Along with Kid's broken screams, he was brought to consciousness by a pulse of pain that exploded in his stomach and spread throughout his body.
Killer needed to let out a groan of pain in order to force himself to somehow react to the environment. He was no longer lying down, which was upsetting, and, as it turned out, the world was sailing in the most unfavorable way. Almost everything was blurry and glowing, as if a spotlight was stuck in his eyes. In addition, he physically felt the ringing in his ears, with which his head resonated.
Okay, he couldn't hold his vomit any longer. Why keep it a secret? He doesn't even have enough strength to stop its flow. And this extreme cleansing of the stomach didn't help at all. Water, bile, and something else white poured onto the floor—a reminder of the 20 hours of hell.
"Fuck!" It was heard very close.
As much as his weakness allowed him, Killer proudly appreciated how his huge bulk was carried on his shoulders by the not-yet-grown-up Kid. If he had wanted to say something, he would have only vomited harder, given how his larynx was still contracting uncomfortably.
He was somehow carried to the hammock, or rather, to the floor strewn with pillows under it—Killer’s desperate attempt to soften Kid’s nightly falls. Kid laid him on his back on a pile of makeshift nest, where it was finally possible to fully assess all the damage.
“They did a number on ye” Kid was horrified, touching his face.
Killer hissed from a dull attack of pain when his fingers touched the inflamed skin. There were many reasons why talking about what happened was a bad idea.
“Y-yeah... don' mention it” Killer was finally able to exhale, clutching his stomach.
Seeing how belligerent Kid began to look, he began to have more doubts about how to hide this information.
“Who are they? I know 'em? I’ll kill 'em!”
“Don’t worry about it... Worry about beloved me” A standard attempt to change the topic with a bit of irony—their usual conversations with nothing to do.
And Kid seemed to grin for a moment, but then he got nervous again. A couple of seconds of reflection in his eyes, and he is already on his feet, hurriedly leaving somewhere.
"Wait 'ere, okay?"
Killer would give anything if breaths could be composed into logical sentences, but that was unlikely to happen (unless they came up with some secret language of sighs), so he nodded exhaustedly.
While Kid was gone, he could calmly collect his thoughts and move away from his adrenaline-fueled invulnerability. Hmmm. A wonderful and bad thing. If only this temporary painkiller could last forever.
It must be because of the amount of wounds and blood he had that Kid wouldn't notice that his pants were soaked with all the dirt in the world. He seriously didn’t know what was in there, but considering that he specifically tried to run along the river on his way home, most of the most unpleasant things were washed away by Killer’s hands.
But the pain tended to remain on the body along with the wounds and now reminded itself quite strongly. At the moment when they mocked him, it seemed to him that he was being torn apart. At first, it was tolerable, but then everything went so deep that it almost made him vomit right there. Fortunately, he kept it all till home. Haha...
"I'm here, I've arrived! -... Kill?" Kid placed a huge white box next to him with an obvious red cross, which Killer didn't remember having in their house.
This distracted him from thoughts of pain, but Kid’s attention was already completely focused on him.
“Don’t cry. Now daddy will sort everything out!” The boy decisively wiped the bloody tears from Killer’s cheeks, grounding him somehow.
“Where did ye ...” He had to swallow blood to continue, “...Did ye get the first aid kit?”
“From Vic, clearly! Do ye think I’ll keep such crap for sissies? Nah, men lick their wounds, and don’t cover 'em with a band-aid!”
Both exchanged obvious glances.
"But ye're an exception, of course!" Kid corrected himself, which even drew a tut from Killer.
Never before had he been happy at home. Warm. And Kid was happy too. If it weren’t for his words and what revealed the obvious thing in him.
"Shit, I fucked up so bad..." If Killer could put his hand on his forehead, he would do so, but for now, he just threw his head back as far as possible.
Along the way, Kid tore off his shirt, exposing more and more affected areas. By that time, one could already see traces of his suffering—the consequences of his “handsome” face.
“Relax. I should be responsible for yer mistakes. We’ll find everyone and punish everyone, okay?”
“I’ve already punished them...” Killer exhaled, trying to hold back the pain.
He had to squeeze his body, as well as hold his breath, so as not to even dare to make any sound in front of this child. He himself volunteered to babysit him, because Kid was the first fucking person who didn’t see him as a monster to be afraid of, some kind of clown, or a freak. The only thing he saw in him - is Killer. And he is so grateful to him for that. Therefore, he cannot be weak in front of him because he owes him a lot. He won't cry. He will not die for the sake of his future captain. The captain, who was now smiling at him with all his crooked teeth.
“Really? Well done! When ye get well, I’ll make ye some cool stuff!” He himself already looked in anticipation, which made Killer smile, popping the skin under his lipstick.
"It'll be great, captain."
Kid was not a doctor, and he wasn't known to be an expert in first aid. The only thing he could treat was machines. Soulless and cold. Probably, if Killer tries to imagine, he will become one, so long as Kid doesn’t get upset he can beat him up for his own pleasure. And yes. He really wants cool stuff from Kid. He really wants him to mutter to him again about the process and all the nuances of his work. It makes him feel at home.
By the time Kid was struggling with his wounds (and childproofing), Killer had explored their base.
The room could have been spacious if not for the piles of trash from each of them. They still couldn’t get rid of the habit of sleeping together, so the bedroom had long been mired in their roots.
One of the walls was fully equipped as Kid’s office, with a work table, tools, a shelf, and parts that he rattled around like crazy at night. The corner on the other side was equipped for their sleeping place, their hammocks were almost parallel to each other. They covered the appalling state of the walls (and the hole leading to the kitchen) with various posters and wanted mugshots, sitting in the evenings speculating about which of them they would kill first when they set out to sea. Kid would then make him coffee that was stolen or earned by honest illegal sales of weapons and would sit between Killer’s legs, not giving any meaning to it. His partner himself would also try to take this nonchalantly, only occasionally touching his red head to (supposedly) find out if he had fallen asleep.
Although this base was infested with cockroaches and mold, for Killer it held a warm, peaceful feeling. It was barely noticeable on ordinary days, but now and in the most troubled times, when Killer could dream of tearing his own face off, it seemed to dull him more and stroke him with his rare warmth. He wonders if Kid's hands feel the same?
"Kil, what the fuck did they do to ye?" He came to his senses only under a restrained question mentioned above.
Kid sat motionless as his face showed a mixture of anger and worry, tempered by a proud desire to be a steadfast leader. He didn't care how many people died or suffered, but for Killer he was ready to cut off this entire failed island.
Having long ago realized the reason for these emotions, Killer looked down at his bare legs, which continued to be stained with his blood. He wondered how much blood he had lost? Did he lose more? Maybe everything is much easier than he imagines?
He definitely doesn’t have enough strength and pain threshold to get up and look, and he won’t be able to fight the assertive Kid either. Therefore, he lowered his head in shock and looked at him, ready to listen, tear, and throw.
“They fucked me a little in the guts,” Killer answered as ironically as possible in order to soften the outrageously sharp corners a little.
Kid could be seen biting his lips, and his non-existent eyebrows moved towards the bridge of his nose. Now he will either scream or destroy. On the one hand, it was very unfortunate that he decided to cut the entire ship, leaving nothing to Kid’s fury (actually, that’s why he didn’t want to tell the details). On the other hand, if Kid had been caught and they had decided to do the same with him... then Killer would have been tearing and throwing. There was no longer any need to look for a reason for Kid’s angry revenge because they were both ready to kill for each other. The motives of a small child can be justified by one’s own, and therefore, if he wants, one can rightly let him rage freely. Kid is very dear to Killer, so he can say for sure that he's dear to Kid too, no matter how it manifests itself - with the cool stuff or the desire to deal with all the offenders for the banal truth about his face.
But Kid, surprisingly, didn’t jump out of his seat and didn’t even scream. He fulfilled Killer's intense need for his touch by placing his palm on his arm. His fingers carefully felt the bulging veins and scars beneath them before Kid began to speak.
“How are ye? Can ye handle it?” Rather, he wanted to hear from Killer first before passing a verdict.
Due to his fatigue and close physical contact, Killer could not even lie.
"Yes" His hand squeezed the child's.
Kid peered into his eyes for a long time, which is why he could calmly see how they were moistening. It didn't change anything in his behavior, facial expression or voice. His eyes just got wet.
"This is good"
Nodding to himself, Kid grabbed the bandages again.
"Okay, Kil! Ye'll be the coolest mummy on the block."
"Cool..."
Killer shuddered when something warm and incomprehensible, mysteriously wrapped in a towel, touched his stomach. The pain in his stomach subsided a little, distracted by a warm compress.
“Here! It will help with the pain.” Kid squatted next to the pillows, like a savage, waiting for some effect, “My stomach hurt, and I applied the overheated motor to it. The burn remained, but the pain went away.”
A quiet sound “Fa” left his lips, which Killer embarrassedly pressed with his hand. Kid would have slapped his hand, but now he was quite satisfied with both his work and the laughter of other.
“See! I bandaged ye so well that ye are already moving normally!”
“Shut up,” Killer squeezed out through his fingers.
All his wounds were carefully bandaged, which was surprising given Kid’s ardent dislike for doctors. What kind of conflicts he has with these doctors is, of course, interesting, but not so interesting as to get cuffed for inaccurate phrases. Did Victoria really instructed him before leaving (her beautiful and tough handwriting is visible).
Kid, meanwhile, placed a glass of water in front of him, confirming the proposal.
“Here. Vic told me to give ye warm water. Rinse yer stomach of all kinds of crap. And yes. Ye’re on a diet, loser! Don’t be afraid, Vic volunteered to nurse ye. Meanwhile, I...” Kid smiled proudly.
No matter how friendly they were, they still met because of Victoria. As soon as Killer fell in love for the first time and began to somehow court her, a little boy ran out to him, wanting to fight for a woman too big for him. After an unexpected draw, they reconciled, and Kid said, "Yer funny! Ye'll be my right hand!" became friends with him. Killer somehow had no choice but to follow the boy everywhere. If anything, he could cope with him, but the need to defend himself from Kid had not yet arisen.
“Dream on! Yer too small to court after Vic. In the end, all the tenderness and care is for me.” Killer grabbed the child’s nose with his index and middle fingers, literally rubbing it.
Kid floundered confusedly, breathing through his mouth, but then irritably removed his hand and pouted offendedly.
"Bitch. I could also let them ra..."
"Kid!" Killer suddenly sat up, which caused all the sores to burn.
In front of the stunned and worried Kid, he doubled over in pain, exhaling through his mouth. Miracle - these breathing exercises. It seemed that, together with processed nitrogen, all the pain could be blown out of the body.... Or that’s how he hypnotizes himself.
“Never,” Killer interrupted Kid’s attempt to say something, “Don’t even think about talking about it, okay?”
As soon as he imagines that Kid could have been in his place, everything inside shrinks, both liquid and solid. He won at rock-paper-scissors to not to hunt. What would happen if the hot-tempered and childish Kid...? Oh no. Better it be Killer! They were lucky it was Killer. Nothing else matters.
"Kid, remember. It's a good thing it was me. I would never wish this on ye. So shut up and don't talk about how ye could take my place, understood?"
Kid listened to him with his mouth open, and with every word his eyebrows moved closer and closer to the bridge of his nose. When he was given a voice, of course, there was no nod or agreement. Killer was (carefully) grabbed by the shoulders. When Kid fell to his knees, the body beneath him involuntarily ached in pain.
"What's this 'understood'!? Kill. Who's the captain 'ere?"
"Ye are," Killer answered seriously.
"That's it, man. I'm the captain. I'm responsible for yer safety. I have to be strong. I have to tear throats out for ye. No one will hurt my crew. Either the crew will tear their mouths for this, or I will. So shut up and listen. Ye didn’t deserve anything out of this. And if I had a chance, I would have shoved their dicks up their ass for ye. And if they told ye anything else, I would have wrapped their guts around my fist"
Killer needed to make an effort to nod normally. It's strange, but after all these years he still felt like he didn't deserve such care from Kid. This boy has the makings of a leader. Once he sets a goal, he will break all barriers in front of him, moving towards it. He dreams of becoming the Pirate King, and Killer believes that he will become it. And such a great man is now looking at him not from a high or even equal level, still raising his head to Killer’s huge body. What did he do in life to deserve such leniency?
He lost his composure as soon as the last drop of adrenaline disappeared from his body. The serious mask had already begun to break under the pressure of his own tears. Killer was ready to give his soul so that he would not have a face, or that there would be a mask in his place.
“Yes...” The answer did not help his image, because it came out so muffled that it made him completely burst into tears.
Kid didn't say anything to this. Although he was used to remaining unshakable and reacting to everything with rage, he didn't blame Killer for his weakness.
The feeling of home had never been so strong until Kid hugged him, pressing his ear to his chest.
"Cry. Ye're allowed to. Ye're safe, ye've punished everyone."
The encouraging words only brought more tears to his eyes, causing Killer to purse his lips. Not a single shameful whine will leave his mouth. Still, he was so glad that Kid was okay. He is at home. And it smells like home. With its smelly and irritating machine oil, metal and cabbage rolls. Killer is ready to admit that he always wants to inhale this smell. Nothing would give him the same feeling of being needed somewhere like Kid. And he was terribly grateful to him for this.
Even though Killer was older and bigger than him, he hugged his captain as if he were someone his equal. After all, this is who they are.
Kid snored loudly, placing his leg and arm on top. Directly into the ear so that Killer could hear his concerts clearly. But he didn't care. He wasn’t even angry about it, because he had been dreaming about it with all his heart the whole past day. Killer only responded by hugging his captain to himself, tightly clutching his huge T-shirt. No, he won’t let anyone touch his Kid, and Kid himself won’t allow anyone to touch him. Nothing else matters. All that matters is that Killer is home.