Work Text:
Documents scattered across the floor like confetti as he flung them around in a rage, sweeping everything he could reach off the desk. Eddie, standing opposite him, watched silently and in his usual melancholy manner, occasionally glancing at the watch on his bent arm and clutching another stack of papers, as if he was more interested in when this hysteria would end and whether he'd slipped off his ‘incredibly important’ schedule than in even attempting to plaster a shred of sympathy on his indifferent face. If only for the fact that Leith would now be forced to spend the next couple of weeks dealing with the consequences of other people's mistakes. Losing another couple of dozen nerve cells in the process and, apparently, risking going completely gray by the time he was forty.
That damned Dr. Harley Sawyer.
Leith slammed his fist down on the oak desk with all his might. The desk crackled with effort, having already been through a lot before, but Leith didn't particularly care. He took frequent, intermittent breaths, his nails scraping the varnished surface, his gaze darting wildly from the papers miraculously remaining on the desk to the expressionless face across from him, and he didn't know which irritated him more.
"I hope you've let off enough steam?" Eddie asked in his usual indifferent voice, and Leith couldn't help but grit his teeth in irritation that the other wasn't impressed. "Or will I have to retype these documents, too?"
"Not necessary," he growled, jerking one of his hands forward in a demanding gesture. "Give those to me. It can't get any worse.”
Eddie scoffed at this statement.
"I've already offered you the simplest solution, but you refuse every time, so I don't see the point in getting annoyed by the consequences now," he remarked as Leith nearly snatched the new folder from his grasp and began frantically flipping through it, expecting the worst despite his previous words. The reports, filled with huge checks for the cost of capturing the escaped experiment (as well as the funeral costs for all the particularly unlucky ones who ended up in his stomach during the process), made his stomach turn cold, but he had truly expected far more horrifying figures, so he managed to force himself to clench his teeth and not start smashing everything around him again. After all, he was the one who would have to clean up. Instead, he turned a couple of pages, casting a sour glance at Ritterman.
“You know that despite all this crap, he’s still our only lead to unraveling Ludwig’s secrets.” The mention of the company’s previous owner’s name made them both wince slightly, remembering the effort it had taken to get him out of the way. “Other scientists have been banging their heads against the wall for years, while he, compared to them, succeeded almost on his first try. If we lose his mind and memories, we’ll never be able to replicate the creation of successful, fully functioning experiments. So curb your murderous tendencies. If you really want to, then throw one of those annoying Warrenbach employees off a cliff; I heard you have a particularly ‘warm’ relationship with them.”
He chuckled over the papers at the last sentence, his eyes glittering triumphantly when Eddie's face finally twitched and contorted with distaste, bordering on disgust, at the mention of the company that had been causing him so much headache.
"Fair point," he admitted after a few seconds. "But don't think that'll change my mind."
Leith flipped through a couple more pages and came across photographs of the scene, blurry blue spots amid the pitch-black forest adjacent to the factory, armed men scurrying around, one of them smashed and torn apart by the monster's toothy jaws.
"I don't need you to change your mind. Just focus on your work, and I'll focus on mine."
"It would be a lot easier for me to keep track of my work if I didn't have to constantly contend with the fact that half my department's profits have to go down the toilet every month."
Leith sighed.
"So far, he's been miraculously lucky that the profits from his initiatives have managed to cover the costs of such antics. But I agree that this is getting out of hand. I promise I'll go talk to him today and put him in his place. Happy?" Finally putting the folder aside, he pressed his free hand to his temples, rubbing them in a circular motion, hoping to avoid the headache that was already starting to develop from all this chaos.
Eddie must have noticed this too, because he didn't argue any further. Instead, he simply nodded silently, satisfied with the promise. Turning on the heels of his perfectly polished shoes, which matched his business suit, he headed out of the office.
Leaving him alone with all these problems that needed immediate solutions.
Leith sighed again, this time more heavily, strained, completely unwilling to remember the dozens of papers and other things that littered the floor of his office, which he would inevitably have to pick up after his outburst.
That damn Doctor. Every time he started to think he could take a breather and relax, that restless lunatic would come up with another mind-blowing idea to ruin the entire operation. An idea that made Leith think he'd never be able to top, but Sawyer always managed to convince him otherwise. As if to spite him. Definitely to spite him. None of Leith's usual methods that kept everyone else terrified worked on him: attempts to tighten the timeframe didn't bother him at all, since he continued working at the pace he wanted; neither did warnings that his staff would be cut and reassigned to other departments if he continued to terrify them or maim them, throwing whatever came to hand at the unfortunate during his latest fits of rage when someone accidentally made a mistake or performed a task incorrectly; or threats of personal reprisals against him when Leith, blazing with rage, claimed to find a way to destroy his entire career, erase all his achievements and merits from history. Harley always only chuckled derisively in response, roaring with laughter, as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world. And he continued working exactly as he had before, completely letting all of the threats go into one ear and out the other.
Everyone knew it was his doing. But no one could prove it.
He was so skillful at circumventing the terms of the employment contract he'd signed with Leith that, no matter how much he wanted to, holding him personally accountable for it all was impossible (which especially irritated Eddie, who most often used this method of pressure). So all they could do was rage in impotent anger, but ultimately, they'd limit themselves to petty punishments, fines, and other things that had no real effect, and they all knew it. Especially Sawyer himself, who was perfectly aware of his own worth and demonstrated this knowledge at every opportunity, something Leith hated with every fiber of his being.
Oh, how much over the years, he regretted ever hiring this insolent man. How much he cursed his eternal desire for profit and increased efficiency, which had driven him to the decision to hire such an undeniably talented man, despite the millions of rumors about his bad temper. Apparently, Dr. Harley fucking Sawyer was his personal karma for all his sins, because he couldn't explain otherwise why their personal vendetta had arisen almost from the first minutes of their acquaintance.
A flood of memories washed over him, and he suddenly clutched the few pitiful pieces of paper he'd managed to pick up from the floor, lost in thought.
They'd first met four years ago, and in that time he began to persistently believe that their relationship had become the world's most dangerous roller coaster — every slight upswing, the optimistic hope that they'd finally get things right, was followed by a dizzying plunge, accompanied by shouting, bickering, cursing, and mutual attempts to undermine each other's work. Afterward, there'd be another brief lull, during which each of them mentally braced themselves for the moment the other would lose their mind and both of them would plunge back down into hell. Sometimes, thinking about this analogy, Leith couldn't help but wonder when the moment of the dead-loop would arrive, from which neither of them would ever escape, but, judging by everything, if Sawyer didn't stop his antics, that moment would start to approach much faster than he'd like.
Leith wondered if he even realized the scale of the threat hanging over his head? That by adding fuel to the fire of someone else's paranoia and then standing smugly nearby, lighting his vile cigarettes from that fire, he's inevitably only making things worse for himself? And if so, does he experience some special pleasure or thrill from the knowledge that he's flirting with death at the hands of the former head of the Italian mafia?
Leith chuckled at his own mental rhetorical question, already knowing the answer perfectly well.
Of course he does; otherwise, why would he deliberately sabotage Leith's work with his antics?
He sighed loudly. Cleaning the room was now completely out of his mind. Instead, he had a growing urge to find the bastard and punch him in the face. Preferably with something heavy.
Glancing down at his wristwatch, he frowned, trying to figure out if Sawyer was still at work forty minutes after the official end of the day, or if looking for him was pointless despite his promise to Eddie to go and deal with the problem right away. But knowing Harley, even if you showed up at his favorite labs at two in the morning, you'd find him either filling out reports, studying the results of some new experiment, or, worse yet, in the operating room, getting ready to ‘warm up’ on one of the small and insignificant toys between truly serious Bigger Bodies projects. So there was no point questioning.
Throwing the still crumpled papers on his desk, he grabbed his key card and, not particularly bothering to keep the scattered documents on the floor clean, walked right over them to the office door. Who cares if they can just print them a second time? He had more important things to do right now.
"Sharon?" He yanked the door handle toward himself and stuck his head out of the open doorway, glancing around, his gaze landing on the blonde sitting at the desk. His response made her nearly jump, her round, awkward glasses sliding down her nose.
"Y-yes, Mister Pierre?"
"I need to go out urgently. Clean up my office while I'm gone.”
He saw her frown and open her mouth to protest, clearly wanting to complain that she wasn't a janitor and wasn't going to clean up the aftermath of his outbursts of rage once again. But Leith had already left his office and covered the distance to the hallway in a few long strides, so the only thing she could object to was his retreating back.
Wandering around the factory in the evening was both pleasant and unpleasant. On the one hand, Leith hated the noise and hubbub around him during work hours — even though he'd chosen the most remote spot in the entire factory for his office — but somehow, even so, life still managed to swirl around him, people constantly crowding around him, distracting him with their conversations through the walls, making it difficult to concentrate. They also regularly ignored the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on his door and came with yet more series of stupid questions that could have been answered by someone else. Or, even worse, some idiot would decide to play a prank and break his rule of not scaring him by jumping out from around corners as he passed.
Well, it was entirely their own fault that they got shot in the knees and then ended up in Boxy Boo's stomach. They shouldn't have taken that rule so lightly. Should have thought about why it was adopted in the first place.
But there was another side. A side that appealed to him far more. He could stroll leisurely through the halls of the company and watch everything run smoothly, the endless flow of goods on the huge conveyor belts, the new advertising posters featuring their mascots popping up everywhere, the ever-increasing number of letters landing on his desk from potential investors, journalists wanting to film a story or interview him, or various stores wanting to stock their products.
His ego was stroked by all this.
This is exactly what he always imagined whenever the word ‘success’ was mentioned in his presence in his youth. He didn't particularly care that, in fact, he was being disingenuous in attributing all the credit to himself, since, technically, he had taken someone else's company and made it his own. But he didn't care. Under Elliot's leadership, the company was struggling and nearly operating at a loss, with countless people discovering secrets they had no right to pry into — but now nothing like that happened anymore. And never will. Ludwig should have been more careful about who he hired and for what purposes, and should've been significantly less trusting and more focused on the people he chose as managers and assistants. In his pursuit of trying to bring illusory happiness to children, he completely lost sight of those who were supposed to create that happiness, and who had their own vested interests in these matters.
His keycard beeped softly several times in a row as he opened doors to various corridors and elevators, moving from section to section, trying to get down as quickly as possible. In reality, he would have preferred the long route, but now was not the time. There was no time to reflect on how things had gotten to this point, or to let off steam without actually smashing Sawyer's skull in when he found him.
He hated going down to these lower floors. Every time he had to, he either tried to avoid it or spend the minimum amount of time there, getting away as quickly as possible.
The place terrified him.
Ever since he'd been hired by the company nearly twenty years ago, the labs had remained an unpleasant place for him, one that radiated something otherworldly and inhuman. Of course, he'd contributed to making it even more unbearable now, with its stifling atmosphere of despair and gloom, but it had hardly been any better before. He hated those moments so long ago when Elliot had sat there around the clock and, worst of all, had taken him along, because he believed that the young boy he was then wanting to work among the company's security guards was bound to be fascinated by the vast array of strange equipment, incomprehensible flasks, and instruments in those vast labs. Well, really, it was his fault for asking to be his personal bodyguard in the hopes of a bigger paycheck, but he hadn't expected the side effect of having to endure it daily, constantly expecting the nearest bubbling flask to explode at any moment, or for a lab rat to chew through the bars and devour him before he could even shoot it.
But now, instead of lab rats, there were five-meter-tall, bloodthirsty monsters with barely a trace of humanity left in them, and he seriously doubted that even if they did chew through the bars, a couple of bullets would be enough to stop them from devouring him whole.
Hanging onto this thought, he let out a displeased sigh, remembering the culprit of his foul mood today.
Yes, Huggy Wuggy's escape was clear proof that a couple of bullets wouldn't take any of them down. It had been three days since he'd been safely returned and was currently being tranquilized in a separate solitary confinement cell, while the corpses he'd left behind were still being dug up and pieced together to at least give something back to their relatives. In reality, Leith wasn't so much concerned about their fate as he was about the fact that all of this would cost the company a pretty penny. Otherwise, the families of the victims would not only trumpet the whole thing in the news, but would also surely drag him through the courts to the point of demanding ten times the compensation they were currently being offered. And that was the last thing he wanted right now. As if there wasn't already enough trouble.
The corridors across from the experiment observation rooms were surprisingly empty. Not wanting to linger too long, Leith walked quickly through each one, peering into the small windows on the doors in search for the place where the hated Sawyer might still be at such a time, but each one turned out to be empty and dark. The more time he spent here, the more he wanted to abandon this whole idea, go back, and then the next day call Sawyer to his office and explain everything to him on his personal territory, but he knew better than anyone that Harley didn't give a damn about his demands, so he would have to go down to his lab in any case. It depended solely on the seriousness of Leith's intentions whether he would be forced to do this just once or several times.
The last observation room in this corridor was also empty. Room 1166, where Sawyer was most often found. Or rather... No, not only there. There was another place where he showed up even more frequently, but Leith would have given anything for his guess to be wrong.
He spun on his heels toward the elevator to an even lower floor of the complex, silently praying that the doctor had simply left work early this time, contrary to his usual habits, or was elsewhere in the factory. He hoped so as he nervously tapped his boot on the metal surface of the elevator floor, his hand tapping a rhythm known only to him on the door open button, as if the more often he pressed it, the sooner the elevator would reach its destination, convincing himself he was just imagining things, and he could return back to the comfort and safety of his personal office. Away from the inhospitable white walls of the laboratories, smelling of disinfectants worse than a hospital. He hoped for that until he suddenly practically ran out into the hallway and, a little faster than he would have wanted, headed toward that one, ill-fated chamber he never wanted to approach again.
Under the door, of course, shone the only ray of light in the entire vast room.
Fuck.
Of course. Where else would he end up if not near his favorite experiment, having yet another completely useless conversation about something that would never be useful for future experiments.
The door to the observation room wasn't fully closed — amazing, thought Leith, clenching his teeth so hard they creaked — for whom even the most basic safety rules were designed, one had to wonder — and so muffled sounds could be heard from inside. Voices.
Leith stopped abruptly right next to the door, already reaching for the handle.
"... If you continue to mindlessly imitate other people's emotions, I will become disillusioned with your intellectual abilities, 1006." He heard that familiar, teeth-grinding, sarcastic tone. However, what made him raise an eyebrow slightly in surprise was that the sarcastic tone didn't actually convey the disappointment Sawyer had just mentioned. Interesting. Usually, what he said and what he thought were completely consistent.
There was a long pause, during which Leith even caught himself holding his breath, trying not to interrupt the dialogue that had suddenly become interesting to him. But after several excruciatingly long minutes, a slow, disgusting sound of something sharp scraping against glass was heard, followed by an equally disgusting and frightening hum of voices:
"If I can't learn, then how will I know how you feel?”
A slight shudder ran down his spine. So that's what... this thing sounds like. The sounds were no less unpleasant than the previous grinding. It... used other people's voices, then? He should have guessed. Leith had never heard the creature before — hell, he'd only seen it a handful of times, and only because it escaped almost every week, and as head of security, he was obliged to prevent such things. If he had his way, he'd never go near that monster again. He'd had enough of that experience during... his past, not-so-pleasant personal interaction.
That's why he'd never understand why Sawyer preferred this person's company to anyone else's.
"Don't twist my words." This time his voice became stern. "I didn't say anything about learning. Copying someone else's will not allow you to develop and understand your own. Several of my predecessors assured me you couldn't have any of your own, but what do those idiots understand?”
Judging by the sounds in the room, he clicked his tongue in displeasure and, knowing Sawyer, rolled his eyes.
"... That's true." The rasp of his voice was quieter this time. Leith noted a sound like a satisfied chuckle, followed by the rustle of pen on paper. His hand had already begun to ache slightly from holding it motionless on the doorknob, but he was now too curious to barge in at such a moment. Even his desire to give Sawyer a good slap on the back of the head and send him to work night shifts in a warehouse somewhere as punishment faded into the background.
"Well, of course I'm always right," the other's smug voice interrupted his train of thought. Excellent, that one phrase was enough to reignite the desire to make him suffer. "Okay, let's not digress. Describe exactly how you feel about those emo…"
"You promised."
In surprise, Leith almost grabbed the door handle so hard he would have ripped it out by the roots and given himself away. The Prototype's voice sounded significantly louder and more menacing this time than the last, and Leith was sure he heard the echoes of several people in its words, which made him uneasy. Apparently, he wasn't the only one, because Sawyer let out a sharp, indistinct breath and something like a boot slamming against the floor, then cleared his throat.
But... Promised? What could he possibly promise this monster? And for what purpose? God forbid that bastard even managed to negotiate something with that creature, once again ignoring all safety regulations. Leith will personally rip his head off if this turns out to be true.
"Okay, okay, I remember. Ask your question and we'll continue."
"What does fame mean to you?”
"Oh, are you really interested?" The doctor chuckled contentedly, while Leith tried to digest the fact that he'd apparently managed to negotiate a collaboration with this creature, taking turns answering each other's questions. "Everyone strives for it, but fame is especially important for a doctor. By achieving recognition for my work and showing the world the results I've achieved during my experiments, I'll be able to prove to everyone that they shouldn't have underestimated me."
“Elliot disagreed.”
A disgruntled chuckle echoed through the lab.
"What did Elliot even understand? He expelled me from his program simply because he was scared, and gave the most far-fetched reason for it." His voice now sounded almost as harsh as the Prototype's own demand. Admittedly, Leith himself found it amusing to see how quickly he lost his temper at the mere mention of the former head of the company. He had to wonder if the creature did this on purpose, too?
"But you can't do what he knew and did." Leith couldn't help but grin. Oh yes, the mocking clicking of the metal mandibles, coupled with the creature's intonation, made it perfectly clear that it was on purpose. He seemed to be enjoying this experiment a little more than before. "You won't become better than him, no matter how hard you try.”
A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the occasional scraping of metal. To think that Leith hadn't even suspected that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed mocking the arrogant doctor. The discovery was unexpected — especially considering he'd never have guessed that this monstrous creature would be the one also looking for any way to delve into Sawyer's mind and find something painful to use against him — but it also made Leith chuckle to himself in satisfaction, because he hadn't expected anything like this. It was a shame the creature obeyed no one but its creator, who... was now in a rather unpleasant mood. After all, with such intelligence, it would have been very useful to put to work. And what was even more disgusting was that the only person the creature even contacted was that damned Dr. Sawyer, so the chances of getting it to do anything useful for the enterprise were practically zero, if Sawyer didn't even try to persuade it, but was simply playing his psychological games.
"And this is what a failed experiment, whose only benefit is high intelligence, is telling me?"
"A failed experiment?!”
An angry roar of voices echoed off the walls of the empty laboratory, followed by the ear-splitting scraping of claws against glass, making one want to cover one's ears, or better yet, erase the sound from one's memory entirely. However, Sawyer seemed unfazed by this; on the contrary, he laughed gutturally, quietly at first but gradually gaining strength. Only after a few minutes did he resume speaking, regaining his former, irritating, amused tone.
"Oh, isn't that so? Yes, you don't need food or sleep, you can learn, but you will never be a successful experiment because the purpose of your creation was not achieved. Look at that stubborn, impudent girl, Poppy. I admit that neither of us have yet been able to solve the mystery of your autonomous existence, but she is a real person. You are just a pathetic imitation of life. Try as you may, but you will never truly become alive. Therefore, the purpose of your creation will never be achieved.”
"...The purpose of my creation," Leith felt a shiver run down his spine for just a second at how different, so much darker, Sawyer's own words sounded when copied by this creature. "...is not to understand people. Elliot wanted happiness and freedom for his creations. I must bring them freedom."
Oh. How... curious. Suddenly, Leith completely lost the feeling of eavesdropping on something he shouldn't know, and he focused his attention entirely on the information before him.
This confession was priceless.
Ever since he'd eliminated Elliot Ludwig to oversee all projects himself, neither he nor anyone else had been able to find any documentation of the very first experiments. It was as if they'd never existed. That son of a bitch, it turned out, wasn't as naive as Leith had previously thought, and had managed to destroy not only most of his work but also everything that explained the rationale behind all of his experiments. And now they'd been banging their heads against the wall for so many years trying to figure it out again, but neither that damned creature nor the stubborn girl had been willing to utter a word about it.
Until now.
Okay, so be it. This time he was willing to admit that Harley's methods could sometimes be useful. Sometimes.
"Excellent." He let out another satisfied chuckle and began writing something down very diligently for several minutes. "You certainly won't bring freedom to your beloved friends, but you will free me from the headache of listening to yet more whining about my unproductive work. Now I definitely have enough material for the next few weeks."
That's rich. A new wave of indignation flashed through Leith's mind, but before he could fully feel the irritation that was already starting to build again, a low, guttural growl and the sound of someone hitting the glass surface were heard behind the glass inside the room, followed by another short laugh.
"What's the matter? Don't like it? No one forced you to talk.”
"Human lives are just a joke to you?!"
Leith barely suppressed the urge to click his tongue when he heard this tirade — unlike Sawyer, who didn't even try to hide his identical gesture, clearly unimpressed by such a half-hearted attempt at provocation.
"A joke to me is your selective blindness to certain things," he said in a disgruntled tone, giving Leith the distinct feeling they'd had this conversation before, more than once or even twice. "Human lives are necessary for the progress of science. Without them, everything else will be meaningless. We can't stagnate forever, which is why we need people like me, who aren't constrained by moral boundaries and who will help everyone else move forward."
"And what... makes you think that you won't be trampled upon just as you trample over others?"
There was a long pause. Leith forced himself to shift from foot to foot, lest he lose his balance and make unnecessary noise, but it was hard to focus on that when his attention was completely focused on the other person's conversation. The creature... was definitely hinting at something. It was impossible to mistake it for anything else now. At first, he'd thought he'd imagined it, and that it was just a simple taunt against Sawyer, an activity he himself loved, but now...
It was a warning. An attempt to hint at the danger of his beliefs.
The Prototype was trying to convince him to stop.
Leith grinned. What a bastard. Even after his death, he's still trying to interfere with Leith's plans?
"I'm not going to entertain our uninvited guest any longer."
"Uninv... Who?!"
"If you don't want to be eavesdropped on, learn to lock your doors." Leith finally entered the room, and a pleasant satisfaction immediately spread through him at the sight of the doctor's utterly indignant expression.
"What are you doing here?!" He hissed, narrowing his eyes and nearly piercing the piece of paper he'd been writing on with the tip of his pen. Now it was Leith's turn to roll his eyes.
"Oh, well, forgive me, Your Majesty, but I have every right to go wherever I want, whenever I want. And you," he pointed, "have given me a headache for the next two weeks with your dirty tricks."
The creature behind the glass made a strange scraping sound with its claws against the surface, and before Leith could even turn his attention towards it, it had already turned away, striking the glass with each of its monstrous paws as it retreated. Sawyer's expression turned completely sour.
"Excellent, you've ruined all my hard work for the last couple of hours. I hope you're pleased."
"Very," he chuckled, then took a few steps forward. "If this makes you take your fuckups more seriously, I'm willing to do it again every damn time.”
He continued to walk forward until he was practically bumping into Sawyer, maintaining eye contact the entire time. His grin widened when Sawyer involuntarily lifted his clipboard, as if shielding himself, only for Leith to grab it with his hand and toss it almost effortlessly onto the nearby table. Now, finally, there was nothing between them.
"I thought I'd already made it clear to you how little patience I have left. And instead of doing your normal work, you're wasting your time here?"
The irritated look on Sawyer's face as he rolled his eyes made Leith want to strangle him even more than before.
"I am doing 'normal work’," he muttered, crossing his arms. "But of course, I'm the only one worried about how we can improve our future experiments. The more I can learn about the reasons for the success of the very first samples, the fewer failures we'll have in the future. Or do you even need me to explain that to you?”
"I'll chew you up and spit you out if you keep making excuses like that." With one sharp movement, he grabbed the doctor's shirt collar, untidily protruding from under his coat, and yanked him toward himself, forcing him to bend slightly. Sawyer let out a surprised cry but immediately jerked in the opposite direction. However, Leith's grip was stronger, so his attempts at resistance were short-lived, and soon he froze in place, glaring hatefully at the man across from him. "I don't care how productive you think the idea of trying to learn something from old test subjects is, if we already have a new operating procedure, and there would be far fewer misfires with it if you weren't trying to restore everything to the way it was.”
"Oh, really! Who nearly trashed one of the labs last week when they saw the number of failed experiments in the monthly report? Failed because you refuse to let me decide how to best do my job!"
"Well, you shouldn't have brought that up." The smirk on Leith's face twisted, becoming harder and more venomous, and his grip on Sawyer's collar tightened. "You work here because of me and me alone. And if you're not going to carry out my orders the way I want, you'll pay for it. I won't tolerate you ruining another project just because you wanted to experiment. Eddie has already sent you all the bills, which will be deducted from your paycheck."
Sawyer's face twisted into a sardonic expression, revealing a crooked grin. Instead of backing away, he jabbed a finger into Leith's chest, leaning so close that their foreheads almost bumped together.
"You really think I care?! I can pay for all these experiments out of my own pocket with my salary and the patents I earn from my research! You and Ritterman can choke on those bills!”
"Oh, in that case, perhaps you'd prefer it if 'Ritterman and I' took away your access to the labs instead?" He tilted his head, feeling a sense of satisfaction and triumph welling up inside him as Sawyer's face visibly contorted, first with incomprehension and disbelief, and then with the rage that surfaced, though he was trying very hard to conceal a hint of fear. It was a shame that Leith knew him too well not to notice that distinctive glint in his eyes, making his insides purr like a well-fed cat.
"You wouldn't dare," he declared, his voice wavering for the first time, as if he were trying futilely to convince himself of this rather than truly believe it.
"We would." Leith replied unctuously, enjoying his reaction, and, to reinforce the effect, immediately continued. "Especially if you don't stop fraternizing with this thing." He nodded briefly and without looking towards the glass. "Instead of focusing on your direct responsibilities. Just because I didn't give you permission to use the confidential information about this experiment and his personal data doesn't mean you have the right to now try to find out on your own to the detriment of everything else.”
Harley's eyes widened sharply, and his mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut again, after which a confused expression began to spread across his face, as if he'd caught something wrong, but couldn't yet put his finger on it or why it was causing him such mixed feelings. Damn. In his rush to finish the job and finally put the doctor in his place, Leith hadn't noticed how he'd accidentally told him something he shouldn't have known. That Experiment 1006 wasn't supposed to have any personal information at all. Just like he'd told Sawyer the first time. Of course, it would be incredibly interesting to see his reaction if he learned the truth, but Leith had no desire to find out whether this would trigger another tantrum and attempt to ruin the whole operation again, or whether he'd simply abandon the other experiments and spend his time exclusively with the Prototype. Or worse. Knowing him, it could be anything. So the risk wasn't worth it.
But... He could try something else.
"What?!" Sawyer finally managed to squeeze out after several minutes of silence, apparently fully realizing what exactly they were hiding from him and clearly not happy about it. Leith grinned knowingly in response.
Yes... That threat would do just fine. For both of them.
Leith allowed himself to cast a meaningful, pointed glance at the creature before returning it to Sawyer, whose expression darkened as he realized the arrogance he was looking at him with.
"Oh, I know a lot more than you think, but don't even think I'll tell you. I'll be very disappointed in your intelligence if you don't figure it out yourself." Leith mimicked his own words, causing Harley to grit his teeth indignantly. But before he could put in his two cents, Leith continued. "However, I want to warn you that he," Leith nodded briefly toward the glass, "isn't asking you such questions for no reason. I admit, I was quite amused by this performance, and even more so by the fact that you have absolutely no idea where this is all heading. You're being warned not to end up like your... predecessor, but you're too arrogant to put two and two together.”
"What kind of threats are these?!" Completely losing his composure, Sawyer abruptly shoved Leith in the chest with all his might, forcing him back a couple of steps, but he didn't stop grinning smugly. Normally, such an outrageous gesture would have instantly angered him, but now he was too amused, watching Sawyer completely fail to understand where he was going with this. Oh, what a shame.
He glanced at the glass again — this time the creature had already turned completely around and was piercing Leith's face with its bright scarlet gaze, as if trying to burn through him. Of course. Leith could only guess how much the doctor's stubbornness angered it, how he didn't understand that it was trying to save his trembling hide. That the more he behaved like a completely uncontrollable scumbag, the higher the chance was that he would be considered a dangerous obstacle.
And that Leith Pierre removed all such obstacles from his path.
That Elliot Ludwig had once been like that.
And now, like no one else, he understood what hung over his former student's head.
How ironic. Leith couldn't help but chuckle, his gaze shifting from the enraged scientist to the equally enraged experiment.
"Come on, what threats? It's a simple warning."
Obstacles...
Somewhere inside him, that nagging, unpleasant worm of doubt stirred, the one he'd been trying to suppress for so many years. Reminding him of something he absolutely didn't want to stir up. Something he thought he'd buried long ago, but, as it turned out, not deeply enough.
He always removed obstacles from his path. But at what cost.
He still vividly remembered his first murder. He'd been just a boy then, and it had been part of his initiation into the mafia. As they'd explained to him then, the usual method wasn't enough in his case, as they doubted his loyalty, and so they'd forced him to agree. As if brutally stabbing to death the only remaining witness to his family's murder in front of them — a neighboring boy with whom he'd often played in the yard, and who'd unfortunately happened to be near the house when they'd come to burn it to the ground — would guarantee that he wouldn't choose them as his next victims and kill them too.
That was their biggest mistake. Because he had chosen. And he always removed obstacles from his path.
But, alas, even though he didn't regret any of it, nothing could save him from the inner torment. He couldn't convince himself that his hands, which he had become accustomed to always keeping in gloves, were perfectly clean and didn't constantly have blood stains on them, leaving red spots wherever he went. He couldn't convince himself that somewhere out there, around the corner, the ghost of one of his victims wasn't standing and looking at him with disapproval. Blaming him for what he had become. What he had probably always been, but which had only become apparent now. When he had seized power.
Sometimes he envied Eddie, who, from the outside, seemed completely free of remorse. He even developed a taste for one of the Italian mafia's infamous murder methods after learning about this detail of his old acquaintance's biography — now he finally had a use for the vast empty mines and pits beneath the factory's surface, as well as the concrete left behind by Warrenbach's company.
He... still remembered all too clearly the murder that had left the deepest mark on him. After which he finally stopped caring who he killed or how, because he had nothing left to regret. They had started working together. When they were still just kids. Together, they had come to settle a mafia territorial dispute with Elliot Ludwig's company, which was then still struggling, over the refusal to pay taxes on sales on their turf. Little did they know, then, that Leith would use this as a chance to gain greater independence from them and then exact his revenge. And he himself had no idea that this kid — Lloyd — would, ironically, haunt him for the rest of his life.
Leith should have known that the man so diligently trying to please his subordinates, always such a polite and helpful rookie, was bound to be a police rat. When he put the gun to his forehead and pulled the trigger, he was sure he'd feel nothing but vengeful pleasure. For daring to stab him in the back. For how sincerely he'd played his part throughout those five long years of their work together.
But he felt nothing.
Now, remembering how he'd treated the former head of the company, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd felt the same way Leith had back then? Had he experienced what it was like to be stabbed in the back by the one you trusted most?
He wondered if he'd have to kill Dr. Harley Sawyer himself the same way. Frankly, he really hoped not. No matter how much he irritated everyone with his temper, no matter how many deadlines he'd missed because of his antics, and no matter how much money they'd sometimes had to waste simply because he'd decided to experiment for fun and come up with something — all of that was outweighed by the benefits he brought.
And now, it seemed, no matter how much Leith hated to admit it, Sawyer might be the only key to getting Elliot to talk.
He involuntarily turned his gaze to the creature standing on the other side of the armored glass — to the face, barely resembling a human one, half covered by spider-like mandibles and fangs, and the other half by metal plates; to the eyes flickering with a scarlet light, incinerating him with hatred; to the alien clawed hands, now digging into the deep grooves from their own scratches; to the scorpion tail furiously beating on the metal floor.
Sometimes he wondered how much of Ludwig's personality had survived in this new, monstrous, and terrifying body, and how much had merged with its... former owner. Alas, with virtually no information about the earliest experiments, it was now nearly impossible to guess what kind of uncontrollable monster Elliot had created back then, until he himself told him, but Leith knew for certain that it had never been human. Back when he'd first started working here, he hadn't particularly cared what scientific nonsense they were trying to force into his head during those daily trips to the labs, but now he regretted not remembering it. The only thing he remembered was that the original Prototype had been an artificial intelligence.
But now the pieces were beginning to fall into place. So, this creature was originally created to protect all the other experiments that had been or would be created? That explained a lot. For example, why, even before he and his accomplices killed Elliot and placed him in this body, had that creature already attempted to escape or attack staff several times, and each time it was somehow connected to other toys.
It was to be expected that from the moment his new roommate, who was even more concerned about the fate of orphans and experiments, had been placed in his body, things would have gotten significantly worse.
Leith suppressed a heavy sigh. Yes... without Sawyer's intervention, they were unlikely to be able to extract anything coherent from this hodgepodge of two fused personalities.
Looking back at the Doctor, he couldn't help but notice how the Doctor was clenching his fists and clearly trying to restrain himself from saying something sarcastic or equally threatening in response, but he was holding himself together with all his might. His expression was still etched with thoughtfulness, as if his anger couldn't possibly mount any higher precisely because he was still puzzling over Leith's cryptic words, which he couldn't yet decipher. And he was unlikely to be able to, unless the Prototype was willing to confess everything.
"I hope that concludes our showdown for today," he finally said after a much-delayed pause that neither of them wanted to be the first to break. Sawyer still stood closer to the protective glass, clenching his hands. However, contrary to his usual habits, he didn't offer the caustic retort Leith had expected, so he allowed himself to continue, not holding back the triumphant tone of winning this argument in his voice. "We'd be very grateful if we never had to repeat this conversation again."
A soft clicking sound echoed through the glass, and Leith involuntarily glanced in its direction — the Prototype scraped its monstrous paw across the glass and narrowed its eyes, glaring directly at him with hostility. Leith merely smiled at it, straightening its shoulders, trying to convey superiority with his entire facial expression and body language, that the Prototype could rage as much as he wanted from behind the glass, but he would never be able to reach him. And he certainly wouldn't help anyone. Not his beloved Harley, not the other toys — nobody. He will rot in this cage forever.
He turned and headed for the exit, considering this conversation over. He reached for the doorknob, cursing at himself when he realized he'd left it open behind him when he entered the room, thus violating his own safety rules.
"We'd be very grateful if we never had to repeat this conversation again."
He froze, not even taking two steps down the hallway. He blinked. He clenched his teeth together, forcing himself to suck in air.
Behind him, Harley made the most disgusting sound in the world — he snorted into his fist with barely contained laughter, clearly desperately trying to muffle it with his palm.
If it had been physically possible, steam would have billowed from Leith's ears with rage.
"What did you just say?!" He barked furiously, spinning back on the heels of his boots in one solid jerk, clutching the piece of the door frame with such force that it seemed just a little more and it would crack or remain right in his grip. The Prototype — no, Elliot — glared at him with his shimmering scarlet eyes, narrowed in obvious satisfaction, and his long, scorpion-like tail wagged slightly on the floor of the cell at his feet. As if pleased with his own prank, like a cat now watching his owner's reaction to how he broke his favorite vase.
"I didn't say anything." He said matter-of-factly, as if he'd completely ignored the way Leith's face twisted in rage and his hands clenched into fists.
Bastard.
"You dare use my voice one more time, and I swear you'll be finding your parts all over the factory for the next month!"
Harley, standing by the glass, had now abandoned his futile attempts to hide his grin and waved his hand dismissively in his direction.
"Who needs your voice?" he played along with his partner in driving Leith crazy, then chuckled smugly. "Besides," he picked up the recorder lying on the table, previously hidden behind papers, pointing to the glowing red recording icon. "I wouldn't recommend sharing the details of this conversation unless you want your... rather inventive method of conducting business by threatening your subordinates to become known."
Leith's eyes involuntarily darted from the recorder to Sawyer's smirking face and back again, feeling a sickening sense of defeat in this confrontation.
"We'll see who gets who," he spat out as a final thought, slamming the door behind him and storming out.