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Rain pelted down on the asphalt heavier than a drum beat in a jazz song.
Or- something like that. The Fix wasn’t much one for being able to gauge just how heavy the rain was, just by hearing it. And he wasn’t one for making hokey metaphors, either. The Fix was a serious man. Yes, he had plenty of less than serious interests, to other people, at the very least- But The Fix took them seriously. He seriously cared about snakes and butterflies and science. It was a serious fixation. Just like everything that The Fix did. He was serious. The Fix was serious about facts. The Fix was serious about his life’s work. And The Fix was serious about wanting to leave his job for good . It may have been on a bit of a whim, The Fix would admit, but he was serious about it. He was very serious about it. The Fix didn’t have any time to think about good metaphors for the rain, because he was too busy leaving.
The only reason The Fix cared about the rain right now, was because it was pelting down on him.
He didn’t have a car of his own. When he did need a car, The Fix would use a car given to him by Mr Bition, with a driver included. But The Fix couldn’t use one of those cars, because Mr Bition was exactly who The Fix was running from right now. He was done. He had killed his last person, and he was done. No more being a hitman for him. And Mr Bition was one of the people in the city who was very invested in making sure that The Fix remained a hitman. So- no car for The Fix. Besides, he liked walking. It helped him think. And The Fix needed to think right now. He had already decided that he was done, of course. He was done killing. But what The Fix needed to think about was what he was going to do next. He- he didn’t know what he was like, if he wasn’t a killer. The Fix needed to think about what he would do, now. The rain helped him. But even if the rain didn’t help him think, The Fix would still choose the rain, every time.
Getting rained on was better than being sent to kill another person.
The Fix was sick of it. He- he had reached this point a few times before, he would admit. He had gotten sick of being a killer before. And- he had tried to leave, before, too. But he had never gotten that far. But this time, The Fix was serious about it. He would get out of the city, somehow- Hitch on a train, head down somewhere else in the body. Or he would steal a car large enough for him, and head over to the vagus nerve. That could work. He would figure out some other way to live, once he was away from the people who wanted him to kill. The Fix would- this time it would work. This time it would be free. He had walked away from when he was supposed to meet Mr Bition, and now he was going to get out of here. He was going to run. He was going to be free. He was going to-
A familiar black car rolled up the rain slick asphalt beside The Fix, and his little bout of playing pretend was over. The door opened, and a hand beckoned The Fix inside.
“Come inside, Fix,” Mark Bition beckoned to him. “I would talk to you outside, but I do hate the rain.”
The Fix climbed inside, even though it was a tight squeeze. The limo was a bit better than a normal car, but- Still. The Fix would always be too big to fit in most places.
“Can I assume that you took out your target?” Mr Bition asked, with a stern look at The Fix.
The Fix nodded. “Yes, sir. He’s gone.”
“No body?” Mr Bition asked.
“It was a clean hit,” The Fix said. His large fingers tapped against his thighs.
“Good,” Mr Bition said, nodding slowly. He tilted his head, staring for just a little too long at The Fix. “You know, you’re a long way from where the target was. It took a long time for me just to find you.”
“I was just taking a walk,” The Fix said, as calmly as he could manage.
“Good, good,” Mr Bition said, nodding his head. “Because, for a second, you know, I thought that you were trying to run away from me.”
“I would never do that, sir,” The Fix promised.
He hadn’t been running away. He had thought about it, but- He hadn’t. The Fix never did quit, no matter how many times he thought about it. The Fix was good at his job. Maybe if Mr Bition hadn’t shown up, he would have, but- But he could have ran from the car. Why didn’t he run from the car? He would have ran from the car, if The Fix had been leaving for good. He hadn’t been leaving for good. He had just been walking in the rain. To- to clear his head. That was it. Why would The Fix leave his job? He liked his job. His job was the only thing he had ever known. And Mr Bition was the person who consistently gave The Fix the most jobs, so why would he run? No. He liked working for Mr Bition. He did. He-
“Good, good,” Mr Bition said. “I would hate to lose you, Fix. You really are such an asset .”
“You won’t lose me,” The Fix said, swallowing down the regret in his throat.
“I want to believe you,” Mr Bition said, shaking his head. “I really want to trust you, Fix.”
The Fix could hear the silent ‘but’ hanging in the air, even as Mr Bition paused. Maybe The Fix was supposed to say something there, but he didn’t know what, exactly, he was supposed to say.
“But I just can’t bring myself to trust you,” Mr Bition said, cutting off his own silence. “You were trying to leave. I can feel it.”
“I wasn’t,” The Fix promised. It felt weak, even to him. But maybe Mr Bition would buy it.
“See, I just don’t buy that,” Mr Bition said, clicking his teeth. “It just- it just doesn’t make sense. Why go for a walk so far away? In the rain, no less.”
“I like the rain,” The Fix said.
“Still, it was a long way to walk,” Mr Bition said. He shook his head. “You’ve used my cars before, when you need to go somewhere far for a hit. And yet, you were all the way out in the middle of nowhere, walking. Why?”
“I just felt like it,” The Fix said.
“So you say,” Mr Bition said. “But if I can’t trust you to come tell me when a hit is successful, how can I trust what you say?”
“You can trust me,” The Fix said, his voice shaking just slightly.
“You’re going to prove it to me,” Mr Bition said, with a decisive nod of his head. “Prove you deserve my trust, Fix.”
The Fix nodded. “Who is my target this time, then?”
He had a feeling that it would be someone to punish The Fix, for almost running. A poor old woman. Someone he knew. A kid- The Fix didn’t know what he would do, if he was told to kill a kid. But instead, Mr Bition said something The Fix hadn’t been expecting at all .
“Oh, you’re not killing anyone for me, this time,” Mr Bition said, shaking his head.
“Then what-” The Fix started to say.
“You’ll see,” Mr Bition said, cutting The Fix off, “For now, just stay there, sitting pretty for me.”
The Fix nodded, unsure of what else he could do. So he just sat there, as Mr Bition tapped his driver on the shoulder, telling him to head not to a place for The Fix to kill anyone, not to Mr Bition’s office, not to The Fix’s own home. Instead- Mark Bition told his driver to drive him to his home, a place The Fix had never been to before. A place that The Fix had never thought he’d ever see. Why would a hitman ever see the house of the person who hired him? Except, for some reason, that was where they were heading. To what The Fix could only assume was a large mansion, for a reason that The Fix couldn’t even imagine. Why were they heading to Mr Bition’s house?
“Okay,” Mr Bition said, when the limo stopped. “Get out, come on.”
“What’s happening, exactly?” The Fix asked, even as he climbed out of the car.
“You’re proving yourself to me,” Mr Bition said, with a self satisfied smile on his face. “Now, come on. Inside. I’m not getting rained on.”
The Fix, begrudgingly, walked inside. It felt like willingly laying himself down in a mouse trap.
“That’s better,” Mr Bition said, as he closed the door, blocking out the rain. “Can’t even get one day in this place without rain.”
“It’s always raining,” The Fix pointed out. “And always night.”
“Yes, yes, the two universal constants of this place,” Mr Bition said, shaking his head as he slipped off his wet shoes. “Always raining, and always night.”
The Fix nodded, unsure of what to say.
“Take your shoes off, don’t drag mud in here,” Mr Bition said, plainly.
“Right,” The Fix said, taking them off awkwardly. This whole thing- being in Mr Bition’s house, taking his shoes off, having this conversation- Not it felt right. All of it felt like a trap.
“Now, this way,” Mr Bition said, not looking back to see if The Fix followed.
He could have turned around and left, even without his shoes, but- The Fix followed, sitting down in the too small seat in Mr Bition’s office, instead.
“I had thought there was a third constant,” Mr Bition continued, once he had closed the door behind them. “I thought that I knew that you’d always be loyal to me.”
“I kill for many different people, Mr Bition,” The Fix pointed out.
“Oh, yes, yes, I know,” Mr Bition said. He was leaning on his desk, now. “Your little side projects. But I thought I knew that you would always be in the business. Always be there to kill for me. Always be- an asset for me.”
“I never said I wasn’t,” The Fix said, slowly. “All I did was go for a walk.”
“That’s all it was?” Mr Bition asked, tilting his head. He certainly didn’t look happy. “You were just taking a walk?”
“I was just taking a walk,” The Fix repeated. It was the truth. Or- part of the truth. The Fix had been thinking about leaving, but he hadn’t been expecting for it to really work.
“And what happens when you take a walk again, next week?” Mr Bition asked. “Or the week after that? I let you go now, and soon enough, you’ll be taking a walk for good, taking all my secrets with you.”
“Your secrets?” The Fix asked. He didn’t even see Mr Bition all that much. It was rare, for his assignments to be given in person, although that had been happening more often lately.
“Not everyone knows that I have- eliminated threats,” Mr Bition said, cloaking his words in hidden meaning despite it just being the two of them. “And not everyone knows exactly what threats I’ve had eliminated.”
“Oh,” The Fix said, slowly.
“Yes,” Mr Bition said. “Oh, indeed. So you see why it is of the utmost importance that I know for certain that I can trust you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” The Fix said, with a shallow nod. “And you can trust me, sir.”
“I want to trust you,” Mr Bition said, tapping his fingers on a letter open on his desk. “Oh, I do want to trust you.”
“I like my job,” The Fix said. How- how else was he supposed to prove himself to Mr Bition. “I have a job, and I like my job. And I like doing it for you, Mr Bition.”
It was almost like a mantra, these days. It was- it was true, the words were true, just sometimes The Fix needed to repeat it a few times, before it really did feel true.
“You are good at your job,” Mr Bition said. “And that’s why I don’t want to lose you. Or have to eliminate you myself, just to clean up loose ends. That would be such a hassle.”
The Fix tensed up at that.
“Oh, relax,” Mr Bition said, waving away The Fix’s fear with a hand. “That’s only a last resort, if I don’t believe that I can trust you, by the end of tonight. If you don’t prove yourself.”
“How exactly am I meant to prove myself?” The Fix asked, his heart beating loud in his chest.
“Get on your knees,” Mr Bition said, and-
“What?” The Fix blurted out, unable to stop himself.
“You really aren’t doing a good job proving yourself,” Mr Bition said, shaking his head.
The Fix didn’t want to be killed. Or to have to fight his way out of Mark Bition’s house. Or- or to lose this job. He had a job. He liked his job. He liked doing his job for Mr Bition. It wasn’t worth jeopardising it, just because he had had one day of dreaming of no longer working for the man. Of no longer killing for anyone. Of no longer killing, period. It was a good job. And he was good at it, too. Even if he wasn’t, as Mr Bition had called him, ‘a loose end’, what would The Fix do, if he suddenly didn’t work as a hitman anymore? He wasn’t built for much, except for killing. His large hands, his sharp words, his guns- This was all The Fix knew how to do. This was all the Fix had ever known. This was all The Fix was. So- He didn’t say anything. He just got out of the too small chair he had been sitting in, and knelt down on the floor.
“That’s better,” Mr Bition said, stepping towards The Fix. “Now, you’re going to stay just like that for me, aren’t you?”
The Fix just nodded.
“Good,” Mr Bition said. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
“Okay,” The Fix said.
“And don’t talk, unless I prompt you to,” Mr Bition added.
The Fix couldn’t nod. And he couldn’t speak. All he could do was just kneel there.
“Good,” Mr Bition said, with a sharp nod. He started pacing around the room, slowly, methodically. “You really scared me, Fix.”
The Fix blinked. He had scared Mark Bition? He hadn’t even known the man was capable of fear, let alone-
“I thought you had left,” Mr Bition continued. “I thought you had left without fulfilling your contract. I thought that that dangerous target was still alive and at large. I thought you had left without even asking me.”
“I’m s-” The Fix began.
“No, no,” Mr Bition said, shushing him. “I said no talking, remember? You need to listen to me, right now.”
The Fix closed his mouth.
“Good, good,” Mr Bition said. “Just listen. I was scared, Fix. You scared me. You did that.”
The Fix could do nothing but sit there.
“I have come to find you, well, rather swell , Fix,” Mr Bition continued. “A hard worker. A good asset. A confidant, even.”
The Fix didn’t think they had spoken all that often. Mark Bition was the person that The Fix talked to most, besides the children at the orphanage, but-
“I thought we were getting quite close,” Mark said. “And yet, there you were, missing when you were supposed to be next to me.”
The Fix opened his mouth to apologise again- but he closed it, instead. He wasn’t supposed to talk.
“I had to drive around the whole city, looking for you,” Mark continued. “I got rained on , looking for you, Fix.”
The Fix didn’t point out that he hadn’t been the one driving the car. Or that he hadn’t gotten rain on much more than his sleeve. Why would The Fix bring that up?
“I thought you might have been hurt,” Mark said, like the words were hard to say. “I thought you were killed. I thought you had failed, killing your target and-”
The Fix felt bad, at that. He hadn’t even thought about worrying Mark, when he had declined to meet after the hit. He had just- wanted to leave. But why had he wanted to leave?
“And then there you were, just walking in the rain,” Mark ranted. “Like you had not a care in the world. Like you didn’t even care that you had scared me.”
A hand reached out and touched The Fix on the shoulder. He forced himself not to startle. Or to lean into the touch. He wasn’t supposed to move.
“You get that you scared me now, don’t you?” Mark asked.
That was a question. The Fix was supposed to answer those.
“Yes, sir,” The Fix said.
“Good,” Mark said, with a nod. The hand that was on The Fix’s shoulder moved around his back, to the other shoulder. “And you won’t do it again, will you?”
“No, Sir,” The Fix promised.
Why would he? He- he didn’t want to hurt Mark. And, besides, he liked his job. He was good at his job. He liked doing his job for Mark.
“Good,” Mark said.
And then he leaned down and pressed his lips to The Fix’s. He- he hadn’t been expecting that. The Fix had been expecting to be shot. Stabbed, maybe, if Mark just wanted to keep him alive for a while. Threatened, at the very least. Made to do something demeaning. Made to beg for his life. Made to prove himself in some despicable, terrible way. He had had a lot of expectations, for tonight. Terrible expectations. He had a lot of expectations for what would happen being employed by Mark Bition, too, equally as terrible. But The Fix hadn’t ever, ever , thought that Mark Bition would kiss him. He had imagined it, yes, but he had never thought it would ever actually happen. Especially not now . Not when The Fix had screwed up. And yet, here Mr Bition was, kissing The Fix. And here The Fix was, liking it .
“Well, then,” Mark said, pulling away. “I suppose you’ve proved yourself, then.”
The Fix blinked. That had been it. Just one kiss. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. Did he want it to be over? Did he want to be kissed again? Did he want- He just didn’t know what he wanted.
“What, are you going to make me lift you up?” Mr Bition asked, his voice suddenly void of emotion once again.
“You told me not to move unless you told me to, sir,” The Fix pointed out.
Was he also just frozen, reeling after the kiss? Well, yes. But Mr Bition didn’t need to know that.
“Oh, yes, I suppose I did,” Mr Bition said. “Well, then, you can get up.”
“Thank you,” The Fix said, standing up on shaky legs.
“I trust that you’ll be loyal to me from now on then, yes?” Mr Bition asked.
The Fix nodded. What else was he meant to do? The Fix had a job he did. The Fix liked the job he did. And The Fix liked doing his job for Mr Bition.
“Yes, sir,” The Fix said, nodding his head again.
“You know the way out?” Mr Bition asked.
The Fix nodded. Again.
“Good,” Mr Bition said, dismissing The Fix with a wave of his hand. “I’ll contact you when I next need your services. Oh, and Fix?”
“Yes?” The Fix asked.
“Make sure that I don’t doubt you again,” Mr Bition said. “And you will be rewarded, once again.”
The Fix walked out of that house, feeling like he had sold just one more piece of his soul to the devil.
The rain pelted back down on him again. He had the urge to run. But running was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. What good would running do? It would just end up with a car following him, once again, bringing him back here. And- And besides, The Fix didn’t want to upset Mark. He had been scared, when The Fix had left. And he trusted The Fix, not to run again. He couldn’t break that trust, could he? No. He couldn’t. Especially not if- especially not if The Fix wanted another kiss like that. He had never been kissed before, truthfully. But even if he had been kissed before, he doubted any kiss had ever felt like that . Running would jeopardise that. Even thinking about running would jeopardise that. And- And The Fix did not want to jeopardise that kiss. Especially when Mark had suggested that there could be more in the future. So, no. The Fix would not run again.
The Fix had a job. The Fix liked his job. And The Fix liked doing his job for Mr Bition.