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“Dear Mr. Norton Campbell:
Money talks, and I believe you have something to say to me.
The clearing in the woods, midnight sharp. Don’t be late, lives depend on it.”
Norton crumpled the letter in his hand as he walked through the dense forest, shoving it roughly in his pocket.
He didn't know why he was here. Midnight, in the woods? It was an obvious extortion attempt. It wasn't even a high effort play. The author of the letter didn't bother to threaten the people he cared about.
Then again, Norton could imagine it would be hard to pinpoint someone he cared about. All his friends, dead in a mining explosion. The extortionist would be hard pressed to name an individual that Norton valued.
And if Norton had set off that bomb himself for a lucridous sum, as several people suspected, that just made it all the more difficult. How do you threaten someone who has nothing to lose?
The answer was that Naib hadn't come home in a few days.
Norton knew better than anyone else how capable Naib was of protecting himself. But he also knew how easy it was for someone to disappear, to die in the cold underbelly of the earth and for their family to never find out what happened to them.
He knew how easy it was for someone to die in the dark.
It was just too close, too similar.
Too dangerous.
“Naib, it’s too dangerous. Tell him you don't accept. You don't have to accept every bounty that comes your way, you know.”
Norton had pleaded with the mercenary as they sat on opposite sides of a small table in Norton’s house. Naib was there often enough that it could also be considered his house, if not for the mercenary’s insistence that he not be tied to any place or any person. Connections were a weakness, as he put it.
It stung somewhere deep in the cavity where Norton’s heart once was, hearing his younger self’s words spill so easily from Naib’s lips.
“And if I decline? That only tells them that I’m afraid. I lose my reputation, my hard-earned name. Naib Subedar, 100% kill rate. That’s what earns me a living. That’s what makes me untouchable.” Naib said severely, slamming his knife down into the table as he faced Norton.
“You don't have to earn a living. I could provide for us both, if you let me. Just stay. Stay here with me.” Norton begged, and Naib’s empty eyes went deadly cold in an instant. Regret washed over Norton before Naib even responded.
“... Provide for me? Is that what you think I am? A housewife for the wealthy prospector?” Naib hissed, real venom in his voice now as he pulled his knife back out of the table. The wood was marked with a slight divot, one of many that dotted the worn furniture.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant, Naib. Sit back down.” Norton watched helplessly as Naib shoved his chair away so hard it fell on its back, the cracking of wood audible throughout the room.
“Then what did you mean, huh? Because it sounds like you think I’m incapable of doing my own job.” Naib stalked towards the door, stopped by Norton wrapping a hand around his wrist.
“Please, Naib, just wait a second. Let’s talk.” Norton pleaded, which was met with nothing but a cold stare as Naib wrenched his arm out of Norton’s grasp.
“My target’s name is Q. I’ll be back in two days, once I’ve cut open his throat. Then we’ll talk.” Naib stormed out, leaving the door open as he rounded the corner, immediately out of Norton’s sight.
That’s how their last conversation ended, five days ago, and Naib hadn’t been home since. And here Norton was, meeting some shady extortionist in the woods based on a meaningless letter that probably had nothing to do with Naib in the first place.
More likely than not, Naib was making him anxious on purpose. He was staying away from home this long to punish Norton, to teach him a lesson about trusting the mercenary’s judgement on matters of his own profession.
When Norton came back missing however much money this extortionist wanted, Naib would laugh in his face, call him an imbecile and a moron for falling for an obvious trap, chastise him for ever doubting Naib’s ability to protect himself, then kiss him on the forehead as a wordless acknowledgement of why he’d gone in the first place.
Because if Naib really was in danger, Norton refused to let him die in the dark.
And so he was here, a hefty sum of money in a locked box in his bag, walking aimlessly in the forest until he finally came across a wide open clearing.
Even with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it took him a few seconds to spot the man standing in the center of the field, and a few seconds longer to see the strange box by the man’s side. The box was about the height of the man’s waist, perfectly cubical, and as Norton stepped closer to the man, he saw the box was covered in some kind of black fabric.
A chill shot down his spine, and he shrugged his shoulders to shake off the feeling.
“Hello? Are you the one who sent me that letter?” Norton called out to the man as he walked closer, and he could hear the man chuckle softly when they were finally face to face.
“That I am. I assume that you’re here because you’re considering my offer, so let’s get to the point, shall we? I want ten thousand dollars.” The man smiled, and Norton spluttered for a moment before regaining his composure.
“What? Are you insane?” Norton’s jaw was agape for a long moment while the man reached into his coat pocket.
“That’s the value of the bounty I recently discovered was on my head. Ten thousand dollars would’ve made a very rich mercenary, wouldn't it?” The man chuckled, withdrawing a dagger from the pocket and fiddling with it in his hands, like it was a shiny new toy.
Norton felt a twinge of nervousness in his stomach as he stared at the dagger Naib had slammed into his dining table mere days ago.
“What’s in it?” Norton gestured to the box, and the man’s smile only widened.
“That, Mr. Campbell, is what I’m offering in our little trade deal. Would you like to see? Go on, pull back the fabric.”
Norton reached for the black cloth, pulling it to the ground, and he felt his heart plummet into his guts.
The box was a cage, Naib knelt inside with his arms lashed behind his back with thick rope. His gaze flickered up to meet Norton’s for only a brief moment before dropping down to the floor, stare fixated on a lone acorn on the ground.
Norton felt something ugly twist inside his chest as he looked at the state Naib was in. A thick swathe of bandage was wrapped around his neck, the white fabric stained with red in several places. His face was covered in violent purple bruises and raised lash marks lined his bare chest and arms.
He didn't look defiant, like he always did. That was the worst thing to see. The usual spark of spite in Naib’s eyes was dulled, replaced with a gray resignation that only flickered with light for a moment when he first saw Norton’s face.
“You must be Q.” Norton murmured quietly, gaze fixated on the vicious stripes that covered Naib’s torso.
“That’s right. Your little boyfriend has such a penchant for violence, I figured he wouldn't mind a taste of what he planned to do to me. Isn’t that right, little killer?” The man, Q, reached between the bars of the cage to grab Naib’s jaw in his hand. Naib didn't move or flinch away, deathly quiet even as Q forced his head into a nod.
“Ten thousand dollars. I’ll give it to you as soon as I get the key.” Norton reached into his bag and showed Q the locked box, the man humming in approval.
“You’re much more compliant than your pet. You should train him better. And just know, I wouldn't try anything. If I could overpower him, I can easily overpower you.” Q purred, and Norton glanced down at Naib. The mercenary was still staring at the ground, unresponsive to anything Q said.
“Fine then. And I want the knife back, too.” Norton said firmly.
“Hm?” Q tilted his head.
“The knife you’re holding. It’s his.” Norton gestured to Q’s hands, where he was still twirling Naib’s dagger idly like it was a toy. Q paused for a moment, contemplating, before he smiled magnanimously.
“Well, of course. I don’t have any need for it.” Q presented Norton with the knife in one hand, the key to the cage in the other. Norton took both, nodding his head diplomatically.
“Thank you.” Norton said, immediately plunging the knife into Q’s heart. A shocked gurgling noise emanated from his throat, and Naib craned his head to look for the first time as Q dropped to the floor, clutching at his chest with weak hands until finally, his strength gave out and he collapsed to the floor. The unseeing glaze in his eyes eerily resembled Naib’s matching blank expression.
Norton had never killed someone by hand like that. The implications were completely lost on him, his mind roaring loudly to make sure Naib was okay.
The second Q stopped moving, Norton dropped the knife and rushed to Naib, fumbling with the key for a moment before managing to get the cage open. Naib collapsed forward into Norton’s arms, his whole body trembling as he breathed shakily.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” Norton held Naib tightly to him, loosening his grip when he heard Naib hiss in pain.
He reached for the knife he’d dropped, cutting away the ropes that bound Naib’s wrists before setting it down again, and Naib immediately reached to wrap his arms around Norton’s waist.
“Naib, say something. Please.” Norton murmured, and Naib only buried his face into Norton’s chest. A sinking feeling churned in Norton’s stomach.
Naib reached with one arm for his throat, opening his mouth only for no sound to come out. He fumbled with the bandage wrapped tightly around his neck, unraveling it and casting it to the side.
What Norton saw made his gut twist viciously. Naib’s throat was marred with a deep gouge, the cut deep enough that it wasn’t scabbed over, despite looking a few days old. Naib gestured defeatedly to the wound, closing his eyes as he collapsed forward again.
“You can't talk? That's okay, I'm going to take you home. Can you stand?” Norton tried propping Naib up, the mercenary only slumping over in his grasp. Naib shook his head slowly, glancing back at his legs. Norton hadn't noticed earlier how the limbs were both bent at unnatural angles, a fractured bone peeking out from the side of one of his shins.
Norton sucked in a sharp breath.
“It’s alright. We’re just going to get you out of there, then I’ll carry you.” Norton tried to pull Naib out of the cage, stopping immediately when Naib tensed up and started furiously shaking his head. He opened his mouth to speak and no noise came out.
“Naib, you have to let me help. You're going to die here if we don't get you home.” Norton said firmly, only the slight quiver in his voice belying his terror. It was true. Naib looked on the verge of death, pale from blood loss and mangled legs still oozing blood.
Naib gave him a dazed look, tracing words onto his arm with shaking fingers.
Hurts. Let me die.
“I can't, Naib. I can't lose you. I know it hurts, but you just have to let me help you.” Norton begged, staring helplessly down at Naib. Naib shot him a stubborn glare.
I didn't listen to you.
Naib punctuated the words by weakly shoving Norton away, a gesture that only made Norton’s horror grow from how pitiful the attempt was. This couldn't possibly be the same Naib who nearly broke Norton’s wrist while arm wrestling him, the same Naib who could crush every bone in a man’s wrist by sheer grip force.
“I don't care about that anymore! Since when do you give up, Naib?” Norton practically yelled, making Naib flinch in his arms. That was new, too. Naib was usually about as easy to startle as a boulder.
Naib traced words with his fingertip onto Norton’s hand, clasping that hand in his own when he finished.
Since I failed.
Norton squeezed his hand tightly.
“You didn't fail. The target's dead, right? As long as you live now, you didn't fail. Please, just let me help you.” Norton held Naib’s hand like a lifeline, as if he could keep Naib grounded to this world by sheer force.
After a long pause, Naib released his grip on Norton’s hand.
I love you, Norton.
Norton clenched his hand into a fist, squeezing tightly onto nothing before releasing his grip.
“I love you. And that’s why I’m not letting you die.” Norton wrapped his arms around Naib’s waist, pulling him up and setting him carefully on top of the cage while he wordlessly protested. Naib curled in on himself, drawing in his broken legs close to his chest.
“I’m sorry, I know. Hold onto my neck if you can.” Norton warned him, and Naib nodded faintly in response, eyes welling with involuntary tears. Norton’s stomach twisted again at that sight. Naib had never cried, not once in all the time Norton had known him.
Norton steeled himself before lifting Naib up bridal-style, Naib’s mouth opening in a silent wail of pain. The mercenary’s arms reached to lamely wrap around Norton’s neck, his weak grip not doing much to support his weight but reassuring Norton nonetheless.
Norton began to follow his path back out of the forest, Naib drifting in and out of consciousness as he walked. Naib’s eyes flickered open for only a brief moment, locking with Norton’s before fluttering shut.
“Please just hold on a little longer, Naib.” Norton whispered his name like a prayer.
It wasn’t a very long walk back to their house. It likely felt longer because of the additional weight of Naib’s body in his arms, or the crushing thought of if Naib was even still alive. Norton knew he was leaving behind a trail of blood dripping from Naib’s legs. He knew that trail was an easy marker that would lead any potential associates of Q right to their house. He knew Naib had always stressed that he wanted to keep Norton far away from the affairs of his job, because it was a dangerous business, and mercenaries had their families and friends targeted by vengeful people all the time.
In that moment, none of that mattered. The only thing Norton could think about was the medical supplies in Naib’s room, a whole host of drugs and gauze and disinfectants that might not be enough to save Naib’s life, but it was all Norton had.
When they finally got to the house, Norton kicked the door open and lay a ghostly pale Naib down on his bed.
Naib would’ve hated seeing his favorite gray blanket stained with his own blood.
“I don't know how to do this.” Norton muttered to himself, frantically rummaging through the medical supplies. Naib weakly opened his eyes, tapping on Norton’s arm to get his attention.
Set the broken bones. Hold me down. I won't be able to stay still. Disinfectant after that.
Norton went still while Naib drew out the words on the palm of his hand, giving Norton a serious look before dropping his arm back to his side.
Norton managed a faint smile.
“I knew you wouldn't give up so easily.” He murmured.
Naib screwed his face up in pain, his raspy breathing growing more shallow as Norton grabbed one of his legs.
“This is going to hurt, right?” Norton asked, and before Naib could move his head to nod, he wrenched the broken bone back into place with a nauseating snap.
Naib’s body convulsed as he writhed against Norton's grip, his mouth open in a soundless scream as he struggled. After a few seconds, he calmed down again, breathing hoarsely with tears streaking down his face.
“I’m so sorry. Does it feel better now?” Norton asked. Naib squeezed his eyes shut before nodding, just the movement of lifting his head horribly laborious.
Before Naib could open his eyes again, Norton rushed to the other leg, setting it with the same gruesome sound. Naib shook violently for a few seconds before collapsing, his breathing ragged.
He grabbed Norton’s hand in an impossibly weak grip, shakily tracing words onto his skin.
I’m going to die here.
Norton felt time stand still for a moment as he really looked at Naib for the first time. His entire torso was covered in raised red welts, so violent Norton could practically feel the whip stinging against his own skin. He was pale, far too pale to even be alive. His lips were faintly blue, and they opened to mouth the words as he wrote them.
You did your best. It's my fault. I'm sorry.
“Stop. Stop talking like that.” Norton breathed.
It doesn't hurt anymore.
Naib’s hand fell after drawing that out, wearing an expression of calm Norton had never seen on the mercenary before.
Naib smiled and closed his eyes, hand still wrapped around Norton’s wrist.
“It’s okay, Naib. I’m right here.” Norton choked out, pressing two fingers to the side of Naib’s neck where his pulse fluttered. It grew slower and slower, thumping calmly until it finally mustered two quick beats then stopped altogether.
Naib’s face was still painted with a soft smile when Norton looked down at him.
Time screeched to a halt, or maybe it sped up to dizzying speeds as Norton sat by Naib’s bedside, hearing breathing that wasn't there.
Somewhere in a world that wasn't this one, Norton was watching Naib storm out of the house, staring mournfully at a knife-shaped divot in the dining room table. He was staring at a man bleed out through a hole in his heart while a condemned man knelt and watched.
He was telling Naib he loved him, over and over again, because saying the words meant Naib was hearing them, and if he listened closely, he could hear Naib say it back with severed vocal cords and lifeless blue lips.
He was pressing his fingers to Naib’s neck so hard that in another life it might’ve bruised, mistaking his own hands for a trembling pulse.
He was a stubborn man who didn't give up on pale corpses.
He was alive, and Naib was not.
By the time Norton moved again, rigor mortis had locked Naib’s fingers around his wrist.