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befuddled-calico-whump · 6 months

Text

Get Your Act Together

cw: bad coping mechanisms, alcohol, bad caretaker, adult language

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•°•°•

Chopper wasn't an unkind man. He managed the contracts of several assassins and regularly sent them out in the world to off someone, sure, but that was just business. And when a person dealt in that sort of blood, they could afford to be nice from time to time without looking too soft.

So when Cinder showed up on his doorstep like the prodigal son himself, two years since the last time he'd last laid eyes on the younger man, Chopper let him in. He put a bed in one of the unused storage rooms upstairs and told the kid to come down when he was ready.

Cinder was here for a contract. Assassins never came to Chopper unless they were after a contract. But right now, Cinder looked like he needed sleep more than a job.

Alexei Wilder wasn't Chopper's favorite employee. He didn't pick favorites. But the kid had been working for him for over a decade now, a favor to his mother, and Chopper had to admit he was more a little attached at this point. Death was a bigger part of life than usual when you called yourself a member of the Underneath, but it still hit his shop pretty hard when they'd heard of Cinder's demise.

Then, the rumors that he was alive, but a prisoner in the Tower, which may have been worse.

Then, quieter still, rumors that he was dead again. For real, this time.

And less than a week later, he was back at the base.

Asking to work.

Having Cinder around wasn't a big deal at first. Heaven and hell knew the kid could come and go in silence, so Chopper wasn't bothered.

But as weeks passed, he left less and less, and as soft as he was, Chopper knew he couldn't stand for it any longer when he finally went upstairs to check on him and a half dozen bottles clattered aside as he pushed the door open.

It was dark inside, littered with garbage and smelling of stale air and booze. Cinder wasn't in the bed, or even sprawled across the floor like Chopper had pictured him. He was sitting upright in the corner, eyes wide and wild and staring, legs coiled underneath him like he might spring to his feet and sprint away at any moment.

A half-empty bottle was clutched in one metallic hand, and Chopper knew both were, in their own way, souvenirs of the two years Cinder had been absent. The way the younger man flinched when Chopper cleared his throat wasn't lost on him.

"When's the last time you set foot outside?" he asked.

"What's that matter?" Cinder replied. His voice was gravelly, as if it had gone some days without use.

“Sunlight's good for you. Vitamin D and all that junk. Being cooped up in a room like this can't be healthy.”

“Hasn’t killed me yet.”

Chopper sighed, kicking a liquor bottle aside. “It's not an offer, Cinder. You need to go outside. You need to do something. A jigsaw puzzle, for fuck’s sake. You can't just hole up in my shop and drink yourself to death.”

“Why not?” Cinder muttered. “What's one more dead body in Neath?”

Chopper shook his head. This kid. As fond as he was of Alexei, he had a business to run. A business that was quite literally a matter of life and death. He couldn't be playing mommy.

“I get it. I do. You've gone through some shit. But moping in the dark isn't gonna erase the past. Get up. Take a shower. Go for a walk, before I drag you out of here myself.”

When Cinder ignored him, rolling over like he could block out his voice, Chopper stalked forward and grabbed him by his wrist.

He let go just as quickly when the metal flashed orange, hissing and shaking his hand.

“Don't fucking touch me,” Cinder slurred, his voice trembling. There was a look in his eyes like a cornered animal, and Chopper took a step back.

“Then get up,” he said, his voice devoid of anything sharp. He rubbed his burned hand against the front of his shirt. “I don't have to house you, Alexei. I'm doing it out of the kindness of my heart. If you can't get your act together, that kindness is going to run out real quick.”

After a moment’s consideration, Cinder stood, leaning on the wall for support, his head cocked to one side like he couldn't fully hold it up.

“Give me a contract.”

Chopper nearly stumbled over his words. "Now? You're drunk. Sleep it off, and we'll talk tomorrow.”

“Which is it? Sleep it off or get my act together? Give me a fucking contract.”

Chopper hadn't meant now, he'd just… gotten a little pissy after being ignored. At most, he'd planned to drag him to the bathroom for a wash, not send him on a job. The kid was swaying on his feet, reeking of alcohol.

But… if that was what it took to kick him into gear, maybe Chopper should let it happen. Maybe this would be good for him, getting back in the saddle.

“I'll get you one,” he said, shaking his head again. “Wait here. Maybe drink some water in the meantime.”

Cinder fell heavily onto the doorframe, fingers locked around its edges like a vise.

“Fine.”

Chopper turned away from the young assassin. He'd just find something easy. Low-stakes. Alexei was good, two years of hell couldn't change that. Even blacked out, he’d still run a clean operation, probably cleaner than some of Chopper’s contractors could do sober.

And if he didn't… if he screwed up and brought the law down on the base…

Well, every assassin knew his protection only extended so far. If things went south, Chopper didn't have to help him.

And he didn't have to let him back in.

•°•°•

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#wildefire #bad coping mechanisms #bad caretaker #alcohol #assassin whump #death mention tw #nightposting so i may rb tomorrow

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