Work Text:
When a reagent is down on their luck and failing trial after trial, their care at the facility falters, they are given less food, the niceties in their sleep room start disappearing, eventually their denied medical care and basic necessities until they show commitment to their "therapy" and get better. However if things get really bad they can throw themselves to the wolves, and if they come back alive they’ll be rewarded with just enough to keep going. Just enough for the risk to be worth it. When reagents really need help they can provide "therapy" for prime assets to get them back to their prime, get them feeling on top of the world, the more unstable the prime asset the bigger reward for offering yourself up on the silver platter of demise.
Three weeks ago the trials had become freezing cold, the kind of cold that rushes in and nestles so deep in your bones that it seems impossible to shake, even hours after the trial has ended. A stabbing pain of ice and wind. It made the simplest of tasks painstakingly difficult; stiff, shaking, hands that made disarming traps a Sisyphean task and remembering codes a brain puzzle that only the most focused could pass. Trials that once took fifteen minutes, lasted nearly an hour at the rate you had to crawl through tasks, a cold so inhibiting it made you yearn for the warmth of electricity as it seared through your bones, sending shocks through a frozen muscle as a tall figure loomed over you, screaming obscenities at your fogged brain.
After being in this place for as long as you had, your goal had changed, you understood that you would never get out of these tall brick walls, that this was your home now. The understanding had crushed you at first, left you feeling hopeless, you had no drive, no desire, no purpose until you were forcefully shoved into a trial with a group of new re-agents who cowered at the weakest of ex-pop and sobbed after falling victim to a door trap. You had the smallest of the group held in your arms as you distracted Coyle so the other could finish electrocuting the snitch, seeing these people helplessly flail through trials you could do half awake re-ignited the burnt wick of purpose inside you. You had to help them, had to keep them from becoming what you were, had to keep them from losing hope and bleeding out on the floor somewhere. So everyday you hauled yourself out of bed and found somebody to help. You put more effort into getting stronger, you kept yourself fed and in as good of health as one could manage to protect those who needed your help, but it had become nearly impossible to keep track of everyone and shield them from harm when the cold kept even you from being efficient in trials. You were holding one re-agent in your arms, trying to keep them warm enough to make it to the burning barrel 30 feet from you, another one was shaking on your back as they pawed desperately at your shoulder so as to not fall onto the icy concrete. This was not going to work. It had been nearly a week since this nonsense began, when you were in the police station with a group of re-agents. So, the new “you” felt better leaving them in a room with a fire and plenty of hiding spots to brave the trial alone. You could hear Coyle spouting off about laws nearby when you noticed something, he wasn’t wearing his jacket. You scurried past him and into the small office where he had just walked out of and his jacket was draped unceremoniously over a chair, it was your hail mary. You hurriedly snatched it up and threw it on, it was slightly too long on you but besides that fit nicely and it was clear he just took it off, as his warmth was still woven into the thick fabric, keeping the cold out. The weight of the jacket kept your mind clear and you finished the trial with a few minor scrapes and bumps, you were now herding the scared re-agents towards the exit shuttle like a shepard as Coyle rushed to catch up. You turned around one last time seeing Coyle shout angrily about you being a thief when the shuttle doors spun shut around you. You kneaded the bottom hem of the jacket between your hands and felt a little bad about taking it, but you had people to protect and you couldn’t do it in this cold.
The next trial went so much better with the new found warmth. You could think clearly enough to keep track of the others and moved much faster through the trial, making sure to remember to herd the others to fires as you ran around disarming traps and completing objectives. You were in the shopping mall this time, a bigger map than you were usually comfortable in. While running with new re-agents but they insisted they could handle it. You were all scattered at the moment looking for pressure valves when you heard a scream, On instinct you abandoned the task at hand and went running towards the noise, your legs pumped and slammed against the old mall flooring as you hurried, seeing a re-agent throwing up as he tripped and fell onto the floor, he was desperately scurrying backwards as the Kress twins rushed towards him, Otto’s saw revved loudly, as you grabbed hold of the scrawny man and dragged him into your arms sprinting away, he was shivering now, teeth shattering as he clung to you, he was sobbing pitifully as you ducked into a dark store softly shushing him, settling next to a burning barrel and handing him an antitoxin, he took it hurriedly and ducked his head against your shoulder trying to breathe normally again, he was still trembling but at least the heat source had stopped his teeth from chattering. You listened carefully as Otto and Aurora passed the store you were hidden in. Letting out a sigh of relief.
“Stick with me the rest of the trial, okay? Otto and Aurora can be tricky, she has a mean arm,” You chuckled, the sound humorless.
You both stood up and headed back onto the hunt for the pressure valves. After a while you found all 4 valves and got them where they needed to be, re-grouping with the other two re-angents at the center where the politician was strung up. You told them what to do as got the Kress twins' attention and ran them around, Aurora got one of the bottles a little too close to you and as it crashed against the ground, the glass bottle imploded as the glass shards few into your legs, cutting up your ankles and calves, you hissed in pain as you heard the signal that the they had done it, you hurried to lose the kress twins and headed back to the shuttle, exiting the trial. You had gotten an A+ per usual and listened as Dr. Easterman praise your commitment and skill. You had gotten quite a few privileges for being as good at the trials as you were. Dr. Easterman had even given you a little room to garden in, you mostly cultivated plants that could be turned into salves or medicine but also grew wisteria flowers that covered the walls and ceiling in your room, they were one of the few things you did for yourself anymore.
You were in your room, laying on the alphabet printed blankets, your head lulled to the side and stared at where Coyle’s jacket hung on the wall, it stuck out among the other things in your room, but more importantly, it reeked of cigarettes and burnt flesh so strongly not even the wisteria flowers could overpower it. You huffed and dragged yourself back out of bed, you usually didn't get out of bed this late unless someone needed something from you, but that rotting jacket was driving you nuts. You snatched the coat off the wall and waddled in your too big pajama pants down towards the laundry room. Reading over the cleaning tag in the back, glad you hadn't torn it out after it scratched against your neck one too many times last trial, you were careful to detach the patches and clean any debris from the jacket before putting it in the washing machine on the gentlest cold setting the rickety old machines had. You plopped down on the floor yawning as the machine's clunky rattling settled into the background. Not long after one of the re-agents you had helped out during the trials poked her head in and sheepishly asked you to teach her chess, you nodded and heaved yourself off the ground waddling back out to the chess tables, sitting down and explaining each piece to the young re-agent before practicing a couple matches with her, finishing your 3rd match you heard the familiar chirping of the washing machine and told her to wait a moment as you shuffled sleepily back to the laundry room and chucked the jacket into the dryer on air dry. Heading back to play a few more rounds of chess. Eventually your eyes were painful to keep open and your head kept bobbing up and down in your palm as you waited for your turn. The re-agent chuckled at you, thanking you for your help and heading to bed. You grabbed the jacket out of the dryer, hugging it to your chest as you headed to bed for the night to lazy to walk the few steps over to its hook and hang it back up. You yawned curling up around the jacket underneath your stack of blankets and drifted off quickly.
After the fifth week of freezing cold trials they finally returned to normal and the freezing chill that haunted your bones subsided. You kept wearing the jacket to trials hoping to end up in one of Coyle’s so you could return it, plus it gave you a sense of comfort. The jacket was heavy, grounding. After a week and a half you ended up in “Teach the Police Officer”, you stalked around collecting keys and heading towards the correct film reel when you heard a familiar voice, just not the one you were expecting, a shrill voice rung out followed by the loud spinning of a drill.
Mother Gooseberry, what the hell is she doing in the police station? You thought as you continued to sneak around the building and picked up the heavy film reel. You lugged it back to the projector room and inserted it, you normally would've left immediately after putting it on but instead of the usual Murkoff brand music and words, a pathetic sobbing sound filled the room and you turned to see the wall light up with Coyle’s curled up body, laying on a mattress in what you guessed was his room holding his face as he sobbed, his signature sunglasses were nowhere to be seen and his short black hair was messy without his hat. He wailed and the camera showed different angles of the scene. You stared wide eyed, shocked.
What is this? Your face contorted into an upset grimace when the whirring of Mother Gooseberry’s drill pulled you out of the shock and the screen turned to black, You hurriedly evaded Mother Gooseberry and rushed to the shuttle. Coyle’s wails and sobs played relentlessly on repeat in your head as you traveled back to the sleep room and even as you laid in bed. You fidgeted nervously with the jacket, taking it on and off, picking at a loose thread, massaging the hem between your fingers, restless you got up and walked downstairs towards Nurse Barlow. You were kind of nervous, you had never had to do Prime Asset therapy before so you weren’t sure how it worked, could you request someone or did you have to just sign up and hope you got who you were looking for, were people other than you looking for someone specific, you weren’t sure. You walked up to Nurse Barlow and
began asking plenty of questions, from if you were allowed to bring things to the prime assets, to whether or not you could schedule your session. She answered all of them and too your surprise there were very few rules regarding prime asset therapy.
You found out that you didn't have to schedule anything, due to low participation in the program—Nobody wanted to help those evil bastards— and that you were welcome to bring pretty much anything but a rig or a weapon in. You also found out that you could choose who you got and could even stay with the prime asset for as long as you wanted. This was all very good news. You quickly set out to your garden to grab some plants you had growing, a plantain or two, some lavender, and aloe vera, mashing the plants together with some coconut oil to make up a batch of burn cream, and packing it away in a metal tin to keep it good. You were spiraling. After seeing Coyle devastated and defeated, bare without his jacket the thought made your skin crawl, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, even knowing it was stupid, it was just a jacket, but you took it and it was his, so you gathered everything you could think of to help him everything you knew that meant something to you, things that made you feel better even after the worst of days, the few tastier snacks you earned yourself and kept stashed away, a chocolate bar, and some twizzlers, then you glanced around your room and checked for anything else you could bring Coyle to make him feel better. A small plush bear, it was old and a little tattered but Dr. Easterman had given it to you after a specifically long run of A+ Trials back when you first arrived and it meant the world to you, you stared at it for a long time contemplating taking it with you to see Coyle, it always made you feel better, but what if he destroyed it, it would be gone forever, and then Dr. Easterman would be mad at you for losing it. But it was your responsibility to make Coyle feel better and you had to make sure you did it right, you never had anyone in your corner not here in the facility and not before the facility, you were always on your own and you know that maybe, just maybe if someone had cared just a little more, showed the smallest of interest when you spoke, or even just remembered your big days you might not of ended up in here, might still be out in the world somewhere living life, you know what it felt like to have no one care enough to help, you had to make sure Coyle knew you cared. You picked up the teddy bear gently and packed it away with the other goodies, you didn’t have to give it to him but you’d bring it just in case and headed back over to Nurse Barlow, you asked to go see Coyle. She raised an eyebrow, surprised by your request.
“Honey, you might not want to go see him right now, he is quite unstable, and correct me if I'm wrong but you don't exactly need the benefits provided by this program. How about Franco Barbi instead, he's been doing quite well, and just enjoys having company outside of trials” She urged.
You shook your head “I need to see Coyle” you insisted.
Nurse Barlow sighed but nodded and signaled for the guards to take you up to the prime asset floor. You were escorted silently into the elevator, waited patiently as it rose, eventually the doors opened to a long white hallway with five doors lining the walls. It was similar to the sleep room layout, just without the large windows You thought as the guard lead you too one of the doors,
“Leland Coyle” said the beige name plate on the door, the guard shot you a sympathetic glance before knocking and then opening the door, pushing you inside and closing the door. You stared at the man, curled up on the mattress, clutching his face as his sobs filled the space making the air thick with tension. You were unsure how to approach this, you’ve comforted re-agents before and you could do that, was this different? Probably not, you approached the mattress, and sat down on the floor next to it.
“Coyle” You paused. “Is there anything I can do?” You questioned him nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket that was still wrapped around you. You normally used physical affection to help your fellow re-agents who were scared or hurt but you didn’t know if Coyle would appreciate that or if that would get you chucked across the room without a second thought.
He didn’t reply or turn your way, you weren’t sure what to do,
“I don’t know why you're upset, or if it's even something I can fix but..” As you spoke Coyle turned around to face you, he was still curled up but his hands had come down away from his face, and his sobs had lessened, his hands were wrapped around his sides now. You didn't know what to say, you saw him stare at you, and your heart rate picked up a little nervous as to what he would do.
“Why are you here?” He snarled, or attempted to the actual words didn't have much bite to them.
You tugged nervously at the hem of the jacket “I took your jacket a couple weeks ago when it was cold and then I kept looking for you in trials to give it back after it warmed up but you weren't in any trials and then I finally got a police station trial except you weren't in there it was mother gooseberry and so I asked Nurse Barlow if I could come see you” You rambled nervously.
You could feel his eyes bore into you, it made your skin itch.
“I took your jacket and it's my fault you're upset so it's my job to help you” You said nervously.
Coyle sat up, he seemed angry, you stared at him waiting for something when he spoke
“You think this is about my fucking jacket, then your even stupider son of a bitch than you look” He snarled, he stared down at you with such disdain, you winced under the gaze when he shoved you away. He got up and walked over to you were on the ground, you stared up at him nervously, you heard of re-agents being killed in here, being mutilated beyond recognition because they pissed off the wrong prime asset on the wrong day. You swallowed as Coyle stood right in front of you, towering over where you sat on the floor.
“Is it your burns that are bothering you?” You asked hesitantly.
Coyle scoffed at you. “Its none of your damn business”
You reached into your pockets and pulled out the small tin of burn cream you made, and held it out to Coyle and began explaining what it was. Coyle looked skeptical at best but agreed to let you try it out after a long winded bout of convincing. Leading to where you sat now, precariously on top of Coyle, bent over his torso, gently applying the cream to the burnt parts of his face, his glasses and hat were off, it was odd to see him like this, not bad, just unusual. You took the time to really look at him for the first time, you never had the luxury of taking a good look at any of the prime assets in the trials. Coyle’s eyes were softer than you expected, his good eye was a pale blue, a stark comparison to the milky white of the burnt eye, and they adorned crows feet around the edges. His short black hair smelled like cigarettes, it was a slightly outgrown buzzcut that stood up in a few places most notably by the cowlick near the back of his head with a few strands of gray peaking through. All things considered he was quite handsome. You gently massaged the cream into the damaged skin, Coyle stared up at you with his good eye, keeping the white one closed as to avoid getting any oitment in it. It was a little unnerving to be stared at so intensely by someone who has threatened your life on numerous occasions, Coyle’s hands were tense on your hips, twitching nervously. It was clear he was trying to maintain some sense of control in the situation. You wondered how you looked from this angle.
Line
Coyle stared up at the re-agent on his lap, he had scars littering his collar bones a light stubble on his face and was a lot prettier than anyone Coyle had the honor of seeing recently, staring up at his face his head had landed right underneath the ceiling light giving the re-agent a halo atop his head and casting a shadow on Coyle’s face, if Coyle wasn’t so focused on keeping control of the situation he might of enjoyed the nearly biblical sight before him, the weight of someone on top of him, the slight squish of hips underneath Coyle’s fingers, the feeling of gentle hands on his face, it all made his head spin.
Line
After a bit longer you finished massaging a generous dose of the burn cream into Coyle’s skin. You sat up straight with a quiet pop of your back. Coyle huffed beneath you, you could see it in his face, the burn cream had helped Coyle’s brows weren’t knitted together so tightly anymore, and the grimace he held earlier had vanished. You quickly got off Coyle’s lap, accidentally putting pressure on the ankle Aurora’s bottle had glanced and winced.
“What else you got with you?” Coyle sneered, voice heavy with false malice.
You pulled out the Twizzlers, chocolate bar, and your small plush bear, offering the candy to Coyle who took it hastily, eyeing you up and down suspiciously before tearing into the pack of twizzlers. You took the chance to take a better look around his room. Besides the mattress in the corner there wasn't much, a small dresser, floor lamp, and a box fan adjacent to the mattress. Coyle’s bed wasn’t much more impressive, a plain grey sheet that you were surprised was on there at all, a thick brown blanket and two pillows both of which were at the foot of the bed.
“Is there anything else I can do?” You asked curiously.
Coyle glanced up from the sweets and squinted at you, pointing at his jacket. Your eyes widened in embarrassment at forgetting the whole reason who you came up here, and took the jacket up handing it to Coyle’ who stared at the clean leather before leaning in and sniffing the jacket. He stared back up at you.
“What the hell did you do to it?” He barked, the glaring stare you thought you escaped earlier had returned.
“I washed it, it was stinking up my whole room” You replied confused as to why he seemed angry you washed his jacket.
Coyle scowled at you complaining that his jacket now reeked of vanilla and some gay floral scent that you had to explain was the wisteria flowers covering your room. He scrunched his face up before slipping the jacket back on. You missed its
warmth already but it was not yours to keep. The only grime on it was a bit of gasoline from when Franco startled you while you were holding a gas canister. You put the tin of cream on his dresser and went to leave when the lights went out, you raised an eyebrow but went to leave anyway, tugging on the door handle and knocking when the door flung open, and a guard shoved you backwards shouting something about lights out, you head spun form the impact, what the hell is happening you sat up holding your head as the door slammed closed, the back of your head throbbed, you leaned forward, pushing your forehead into your knees, panting as you tried to focus. You could feel Coyle’s eyes on you as you shuffled yourself into the corner opposite of him.
“What?” you muttered, glaring up through your hands.
Coyle chuckled at your state before rolling over to face the wall he was curled up with his back to you. What the actual fuck am I supposed to do??
you gently rocked back and forth, gnawing on your thumbnail. You shivered in the cold dark room, and shuffled over towards the bed curling up at the foot of the mattress, Coyle peered down at you from his blanket and kicked his foot out, flopping the end of his blanket over you. He grumbled something about mutts and went back to his attempts at sleep. The blanket helped as you curled up underneath it, wrapping your arms around yourself and for a while it was enough to keep you from shivering but as the night dragged on, sleep evaded you and the tiles grew colder seeping into your bones as you shivered, Coyle’s eye peeked down at you again, mumbling curses under his breath and he lifted the blanket up motioning for you get on the mattress. You looked up skeptically but after laying on this unforgiving tile for a few hours your joints ached and the decision became a lot easier feeling your hip burn as the bone ground against the tile and you clambered onto the mattress, curling up in front of Coyle, his blue eye glared down at you laying the heavy blanket back down you hesitantly shuffled to get comfortable, getting as close to Coyle as you could without touching him in an attempt to warm up, after the cold trials and cold tile he felt like heaven, a burning furnace in your cold dark night. You looked up at his face, when he wasn’t hurling insults and slurs or trying to kill you he looked rather peaceful, he had long eyelashes and a nice nose, you sat there committing the image to memory when he cracked his eye open and stared at you
“you ain’t much to look at neither” he huffed
You blinked stupidly before shaking your head, Coyle slung an arm around you pulling you harshly against his chest, the warmth was welcome and your muscles finally relaxed, Coyle’s chin sat atop yours, his beard scratchy against your scalp. What a night. you thought as your heavy eyelids finally closed. This feeling was something you hadn’t felt in a long time, in the embrace of someone who’s slaughtered and mutilated you felt safe, you felt like everything might just be alright, that in this moment you could breathe, soft tears rolled down your cheeks hidden by the dark room, you felt Coyle hold you little tighter