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The wind chills Tomme as she walks through the dark streets. She didn’t know why Tamsy had volunteered them to stay out the whole night searching, or rather, she hoped she didn't.
“We’ve already gotten a five-mile radius through the towns surrounding it. What do we look for next?” She asks, holding her clipboard under her arm as she looks back and forth.
“There is a strip that most people attempt to avoid. Doing a clear through and then finding a place to rest would be a good idea.” Tamsy looks awfully put together for having been moving non-stop. All of the cleaners were trained to have good stamina, and Tomme herself would say she was decent, but she is unsure whether she would be able to keep up with the man in front of her.
Regardless, she nods, and Tamsy moves to lead again. They had been trading back and forth for the past few hours, and she feels like he may be leading for the rest of the night.
“Why do people try to avoid it?” She didn't feel up to writing currently, but due to the rare occasions she wasn't able to be around her clipboard, she had gotten quite good at being able to store and sort information- a fact that Tamsy knew well, hence his immediate speech after.
“Classic area for crime. Desolate buildings all throughout, most not-dangerous life is far enough away that, on the chance someone new walks in, no one would be able to hear their screams, nor get there fast enough to save them. If one were wanting to do a kidnapping as efficient as this one seems, then this would be a basic but decent place. Not the best choice, but certainly a choice nonetheless.”
He uses his vital instrument to walk, and Tomme scrunches her eyebrows a little before looking back up at him.
“And if this is such a common spot, then why didn't you mention it during the meeting with Enjin?”
“Not a common spot, Tomme, its ‘underground-ness’ is what keeps it from being detected. There have hardly been any trash beats in the area, so the cleaners don't have a use in knowing it. As I had mentioned earlier, if you weren't listening, it isn't the best, nor where I had initially expected our suspect to be. A search and interviews of the nearby people was the most logical course of action, and a few hours before this, you seemed to agree with that sentiment. You need to relax, we will find him surely, patience is all that you need.”
Tamsy always seemed like some perfect level-headed person, and she suspects that's why they had started to send them out on missions together in the first place, but she would be lying if she said he didn't get on her nerves sometimes. He only seemed to do such direct jabs when it was with her, and does pretty well at ensuring she doesn't react most of the time.
“Don't call him a suspect, he’s just a kid.”
“A kid who regularly displays disproportionate amounts of intelligence to what he uses, as well as one who most likely has killed more people than you have pretty little fingers to count. You’re getting rather upset over this; at least your daughter is home safe.”
That plucks a string in her chest. The daughter he was referring to was Amo; he had been there when she had very briefly fought over leaving overnight because of that exact reason. Amo still didn't sleep well at night; the poor girl was overcome by nightmares almost constantly. She woke up countless times to her sobbing over having seen her, the girl who had taken her, and Tomme would pet her hair and let her stay the night with her, telling her there was nothing to worry about. If the lion is in the room, she would know about it.
“My daughter is home safe.” She nods, Tamsy's words had come out as if wishing to be comforting, but she noticed little clips in his voice and small odd behaviours that made it feel like a trap.
They walk for a while longer and arrive at a tall building.
“Welcome.”
Tamsy hadn't been lying when describing the area; it looked devoid of life, with similar rectangular buildings lining the streets, an eerie silence overcoming the area, and trying to dig into her skin.
“Glad to be here.”
The door to the building opens, and she holds her breath, as if expecting it to jump out at her. Support beams are scattered throughout the room, the stench of sweat and blood filling her nose. She leaves Tamsy at the door and moves further.
The scent gets stronger as she goes through, tangy, with something oddly sweet as a kick at the end of each breath. She digs through her pocket and pulls out a flashlight, shining it over trails of stain on the floor. She hears footsteps behind her.
“You’ve worked hard enough.”
She starts to turn towards Tamsys' voice, but feels an arm wrap around her midsection, and a cloth goes over her mouth. At first, she tried to fight, but why fight what's so clearly inevitable? It only serves to make her breathe in more of the chemical on the rag, dragging her into a darkness that she wishes she weren't so familiar with. A dull throbbing fills her head, and she’s out.
“And.. now,”
She jolts, almost as if drawn back to consciousness by his cue, in reality nothing so theatrical, just proper measurement of drugs and understanding of Tomme's trauma and panic responses used to give an accurate response that he would pride himself on.
“Tamsy! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She shouts at him, eyes opening blearily. Her limbs are bound by Tokushin’s threads, forced to cower against the floor and wall, in a display rather pathetic.
“I think by now you’ve discovered exactly what's ‘wrong’ about me.” He stands straight, having taken off the large jacket of his uniform and having let his trousers fall down his back in gentle, elegant waterfalls, and walks closer to her.
“The issue isn't me, the issue is what you have yet to accept about yourself.”
“There- Mpft!”
Tomme starts to talk again, Tamsy makes a motion, and threads fill her mouth, causing her to have to focus on breathing through her nose as she looks at him.
“I wonder, why is a cleaner girl, a supporter at that, seemingly constantly staring at me? Why, I'd be flattered if not for a simple fact that almost every page in your ‘personal’ books nowadays is awfully rude things about me.”
He scoffs and then laughs, head falling back slightly and neck bearing in a way that Tomme finds oddly appealing.
“And, of course, some rather embarrassing things about yourself. What else is expected of someone like you, Ms. Tomme? Speculating about someone's personal life, accusing me of such horrid things! What is to be done about this? I wonder.” A motion and she falls, wires unbinding her. Mere moments later, a harsh impact hits Tamsy’s face, and he sighs at the feeling of blood running down his face, glancing down at how it marked Tommes fist.
“There is something wrong with you, and when I figure-”
“Ah-ah, Ms. Tomme, I recommend watching your mouth. Wouldn't want to say anything you may regret.”
Recognising it as him quoting something she had written, she scoffs. “It seems you already know what I would have to say.”
Just a flicker of disappointment drips onto his face before he smirks at her, goading her on slyly. “But you awfully want to. I'm not even sure you know what you want to say.”
“I thought you were good. You used to be kind and compassionate, you used to help people, and that changed. You’ve been acting so.. Weird! Tamsy-”
He narrows his eyes, grin still on his face.
“The only reason you’re paying such attention and trying to paint me as something is because you know that you aren't ready to accept yourself yet. I’m the only one who could understand you, the only one who could look at the monster you’ve been trying to hide and not be horrified. You always act kind, always pretend to care, and practically crawl over yourself to help. But aren't you tired of that?”
He gives her a sympathetic expression before going to an almost loving look.
“I have seen you, and I know that it’s a facade. You don't have to pretend around me. Just as I know that if everything you wrote about me was true, you wouldn't cower in fear. You wouldn't tell, because there is some deadly feeling in your heart. If you didn't love me, yearn for each moment you aren't around, then after that first night, you would have never come back. You would have told Corrvus about what I did. I know that you never will.”
“I don't love you. Nor do you feel anything like that about me. You see an image of me, and have convinced yourself that I'm something that I'm not. I used to. Care for you, that is. But that night it broke, I saw something in your eyes, we could never be something.”
Tomme's face is trying to show that she’s done, but Tamsy sees the slight look of uncertainty, hears the quiver in her voice.
“You like what you saw. You would have never followed me out here, never agreed to go with me on this mission. I know what makes you cry, I know what you want in life. I could make you your coffee each morning again, you like it cold, one fourth cup of milk mixed with sugar, but the sugar has to be fully dissolved in the milk otherwise it ‘tastes like an unloving marriage’. I remember why you joined the cleaners, why every day you attempt to help.” He paces back and forth in a short distance, and he speaks, pausing to look Tomme in the eyes as he begins again.
“Constantly, you work to make people like you; you don’t feel like you’re with anything other than what you can give others. It came from childhood, when your mother used you more as a servant than a daughter. Made it seem like the only thing you can do correctly is what others tell you.”
Tomme feels a pit open in her chest.
“I think you're scared to accept that when you live your life just to please others, the moment you show who you truly are, they will despise you just as she did.”
Tomme furrows her brows and backs up slightly. He notices the slight increase in her breathing, along with her blinking frequency slightly increased.
“I know who you are. Underneath the mask of the perfect daughter, the perfect mother. And you’re right about something. That no one would be able to handle you, you’re a monster, Tomme. A monster just like me.”
He walks up to her, leaving a kiss where jaw meets neck, it makes her shiver, as he knew it would.
“I’m nothing like you.”
“You’re everything like me. Let yourself free, let me be your sweet salvation.”
Yellow eyes meet brown, and she takes a shaky breath. Tamsy thinks her eyes look awfully like topaz; they would look positively gorgeous on a necklace, or perhaps used as decoration, so that she only has eyes on him forever.
“Just.. tonight.” She sounds so defeated, and it makes him feel elated.
He grabs her face and consumes her in a kiss, teeth grazing her lips. She takes a deep inhale and puts a hand on his waist, swapping their positions, Tamsy's back hitting the hard wall. Her free hand finds his hair, tangling in the soft blonde and blue pieces.
“Don't be getting shy now.”
She breathes in his scent and uses her grasp to pull his head back away from hers roughly, and bites down on his neck, grinding teeth into scarred flesh until a copper taste fills her mouth.
“I hate you, Tamsy.”
He makes a pleased humming noise; the sound reverberates through her due to how silent the room is.
“Do tell me more.”
She holds her face near the warm flesh of her.. Tamsy moves the hand that was in his hair lower, to his neck, and begins digging well-manicured nails into it.
“You’re in my head. Each moment of every day, I try to think of something that isn't you, but- I can't. I try to distract myself. Busy myself with other things, working.”
“And other men, Tomme.”
How Tamsy had known that, she didn't know, but something about this situation, her head felt dizzy, and she didn't even have the mind to question if Tamsy gave her anything else while she was out.
“He wasn’t anything like you; he bored me, Tamsy. I used to be normal-”
“You used to be repressed. I'm opening you to the world, ripping you from your cocoon. I don’t care that others may find the sight of you like this may be garish, for it’s what is truly you. The horrifying, disgusting parts of you are what I revel in.”
She feels fuzzy. Her body feels as if it's floating, and all she can think of as a response is to dig her teeth further.
“Being around you feels like a drug. The only thing I want is it. I feel amazing when I'm here, but when I leave, you leave me empty.”
He briefly wonders if he dosed her with too much.
“I don't leave you. You leave, run away scared because of the gory insides of yourself that I show you. I never have to leave. You just need to stop running. It's getting awfully tiring to have to keep playing this game, Tomme.”
She whines, and an undignified sound comes from a woman. Tamsy feels a familiar heat fill his chest, even more so at the warm, wet feeling that begins to collect on his neck.
“I- I just am scared.” Oh, goodness, was she crying? Remind him to tap into Jabber’s stashes more frequently. This was ravishing!
“Oh dear, there’s nothing to be scared of.” He pulls her head back and sees her face reddened, and he is a genius, a brilliant actor with years of practice, but even he has to fight the positively giddy look on his face at the sight.
With a hold much gentler than he would have preferred, he pulls her head close to his, meaning in and cleaning her face of the salty tears that dripped from reddened eyes. Her pupils were so big that if he were normal, he would almost feel sympathetic for the pathetic dog in front of him.
He puts a messy tress of brown hair behind her ear, before giving her a kind expression and carrying her now shaking body to the floor. "You're awfully tired, yes?"
He had the symptoms and times perfectly memorised, a question more for formalities' sake than anything. She gives him a nod in response, putting her head against his chest in a motion almost intimate. It makes Tamsy feel itchy. In the morning, she won't have any recollection of exactly how she ended up like this. Tamsy believes that she will remember the fight and some blurry memories of the day. He could very easily just say that, since they were already in a dangerous part of town, she had fallen, he could dirty the needle he had used and take it in for examination if she asked any more questions. She wouldn't know.
Girls like Tomme don't fight back. She's been told to be herself, but hasn't discovered who she is outside of servitude yet. It was a given that with the right conditions and terms, she would easily fall into being exactly who she thought Tamsy wanted her to be. Humans are equations, and while things as messy as drugs often are unnecessary, especially when you are using conditioning methods, they can help enhance results and show trust. Tomme would feel horrific in the morning, and Tamsy, just as he should, will support her as they walk back and get her the proper food and drinks so she's normal enough by the time they return to the cleaners to get this incident passed unnoticed if he does this right.
Ah, it's almost adorable how easily Tomme had fallen, how easy all of this was. Being the puppet master was hard, but who better than a man with the proper strings and a disorder!