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writer-of-various · 8 months

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ɪ'ʟʟ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ʀᴜᴅʏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ : ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟɪᴠᴇ

"We used all types of methods to break the subject. Waterboarding, dissociation, trauma, interrogation, you name it, we did it. [Redacted] found something, an American form of brainwashing that is similar to Russian sleeper agents. MK Ultra."

– Russell, A.

February 15, 2023

1245

"Fuck!" Rudy screams as another shock of electricity pierces through him, his arms twitching against the metal restraints holding him down. He breathes heavily, glaring weakly at the Shadows surrounding him, bracing himself when the object of his torture nears his right thigh when the metal door slams open and Graves walks in, his eyes narrowed before he nods at his men and they start packing up their "interrogation" equipment. Rudy lets himself relax against the metal bed, his body feeling like it is melting and he is so tired but he watches wearily as Graves walks over to him and crosses his arms over his chest.

"You gonna talk now, Rudy?" Graves questions, and Rudy feels disgusted at how the man says his name. 'Rudy' is only for his closest and most trusted friends to call him, Alejandro was the first and has been addressing him since. Graves did call him that when they worked together, when they spent nights together, but the man lost all his trust and love, he lost that privilege.

"Don't call me that, pendejo." He growls out, barely flinching when the slap comes, but the effects of it still struck him like all the other times he's been backhanded and punched.

"I've tried a lot of things in only what, over 5 days? You are loyal, I'll give you that, Rudy, but you're loyal to the wrong people, darling. So, I'm going to ask you one more time before I cross a line that we can never step back over. Are you going to talk?" Graves looks at Rudy, sky blue meeting mocha brown, and Rudy hopes he's hiding the fear that's crawling up his spine well.

"You can fucking do anything, Graves, but I won't talk. You passed the line of ethical and unethical when you touched me in the wrong places. You're a dead motherfucker when I get out." Rudy hisses, and Graves sighs, shaking his head and stepping away from Rudy, his eyes sad and...was that guilt? The fear grew into panic and Rudy watched with wide eyes as Graves made a gesture and two Shadows left for a brief moment before stepping back inside, wheeling in a cart full of strange instruments but one thing stuck out like a sore thumb: a syringe filled with some sort of tanish colored liquid. Graves slipped on a pair of medical gloves, grabbing the syringe and putting on a long and sharp needle that had Rudy reeling back.

"Wh-what the fuck is that? Graves? Graves! Phillip–" Rudy starts screaming as the needle pierces through his arm, barely noticing the Shadows setting up an IV bag and another Shadow bringing in a medical bag and AED. One particular Shadow stood by Graves' side, holding up a stack of papers paperclipped together, his eyes watching as Rudy failed around before his movements grew languid and weak, his pupils dilating and skin going pale.

"You sure this is going to work, boss?" The Shadow asks, and Graves nods, his stare turning hard.

"It worked on someone before." Was all he said before getting to work.

Rudy woke with a start, blinking rapidly as he looked around the room, trying to take in his surroundings. A loud explosion startles him, forcing him to quickly scramble to his feet, and that's when he notices the debris and bullet shells and everything around him that screams war.

"Rook, there you are!" A voice with a southern accent calls out and Rudy looks over, seeing a familiar man with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. "You alright, darling? Those fuckers didn't hurt you too bad, right?"

Rudy looks down at his body, seeing a black uniform on him, no visible injuries or any pain so he shakes his head, looking back up at the man. Phillip Graves, his mind supplies helpfully and he bites his bottom lip.

"Graves?" He whispers, wincing at how his voice cracked and the man smiles at him, something soft and soothing.

"I'm here, Rudy. I'm here. Come on, we have a job to do." With those words, white flashes against Rudy's vision and he screams at the intensity of it, his head pounding and he tries blocking his eyes but couldn't. It didn't last long though, the light faded and when he opened his eyes (were they closed this whole time?) he saw that he was in a dimly lit room, looking down and seeing he was shirtless and had bruises and cuts littering all over his fair skin. A large metal blue door opens and a tall man walks in, dark brown hair swept back and dark brown eyes narrowing on him, sending shivers down his spine.

"Rudy, why are you making me hurt you? Why can't you just tell me where those filthy gringos are?" Alejandro Vargas (what, how did he know this man's name?) growls out, and Rudy flinches when a hand lands on his shoulder, slowly sliding down his chest and the touch itself makes his stomach churn in disgust.

"You're a monster, Ale" Rudy whispers, and the dark gleam in Alejandro's eyes, the way his lips curled up in a sick smile, should have been warning signs for what is to come. He knew he had to have trusted Alejandro Vargas at one point, but now these memories flashed through his mind, these fragments he wanted gone now showing up in big pictures. Alejandro touched him, in ways that broke Rudy and his dignity.

But Phillip Graves returns, he slammed through that blue metal door and forced Alejandro off of him, the searing pain that came forcing a cry out of Rudy, who breathes heavily and is oblivious to the waterfall of tears trailing down his face. Graves, after knocking out the colonel cold, came to his rescue, cutting the restraints and lifting him up, throwing his jacket over him.

"I got you, Rook. I got you. We have a job to do." The flashing light came back, and Rudy let it wash over him this time, his eyelids squeezing shut, but this time he felt everything around him. The coldness affects his temperature, the hands on his body, and the exclaims over his head. He reopened his eyes, finding himself in what looked like a hospital room, his eyes darting everywhere before landing on the man standing beside his bed. Graves.

"Hey Rook, you okay?" Graves asks softly, and Rudy nods, confusion written across his face. He looks out the window, the curtain pulled back to allow the daylight to shine through, before returning his gaze back to Graves, eyebrows pinched together.

"Where am I?" He questions, watching as Graves looked at him with some sort of intensity before smiling, standing up and moving over to release the leather cuffs holding Rudy down.

"Infirmary. You got hurt on a mission, doctors say it could have been a bad concussion that made you act up. You tried hurting yourself so we had to restrain you for safety, I didn't like it but I couldn't bear to see you hurt yourself." Graves answers, voice full of honesty and Rudy nods.

"I...I can't remember anything. Just you, I think." He says sheepishly and Graves' head snaps up quick, blue eyes searching his own before his lips turned down in a frown.

"You were hit on your temple with a heavy gun, then beaten by the enemy. Head injury, they said you might wake up with slight amnesia and to just watch you closely. Don't worry, darling, I'll help you get that smart brain working again." Graves says, helping Rudy sit up in the hospital bed. Rudy mumbles a quiet thanks, trying to stand but his legs felt so shaky he would have fell if not for Graves catching him in time.

"Am...am I not going to be able to work?" Rudy asks, feeling relieved when Graves shakes his head, a reassuring smile replacing that frown.

"You should be back on the field in less than a month, but for now it's bed rest and light paperwork. We are keeping low for a bit anyways, we barely escaped the last mission. We have a safehouse near the base, my trusted men are waiting there for us." Graves turns around and goes over to the table at the end of the end, grabbing a clear plastic bag and handing it to Rudy. "These are your clothes, I washed them for you. Get ready and we'll head out."

Rudy nods, letting the man help him to the bathroom before shutting the door, inspecting his reflection in the mirror. He tries to recall any memories but everything is blurry or seemingly nonexistent, and he knows he can trust Graves to help him regain those memories. As he removes the hospital gown and begins putting on his own clothes, he tries naming the basic stuff. His name?

...What is his name? Graves calls him Rudy, and in his dreams he also called him Rook. But his legal name? He can guess for some first names, but anything else is blacked out. Okay, birth date, or age? Still nothing. Family, friends? Nope.

Rudy growls out in frustration, slamming his hands down on the counter, trying to blink away the pressure building up behind his eyelids. With shaky hands, he opens the bathroom door and walks out, smiling at the sight of Graves waiting for him. He can assume he and Graves were a thing, with his dreams and how the man calls his darling. Unless nothing happened between them and he's overthinking, any memories he has had have been swiped away, taken away ruthlessly, leaving him a shell of who he used to be.

"Come on, let's go home." Graves wraps a strong arm around his waist and they walk out together.

The ride to the safehouse was quiet, something Rudy bathed in as he pondered over millions of unanswered questions going through his head, his fingers fidgeting with one another in a coping manner. Graves watched him from the corner of his eye, his lips twitching as he wanted to grin so badly at his accomplishment, but he kept his cool, he threw on the stoic expression and ran through the notes he embedded in his memory.

"Are you hungry? I can text of the guys and have them make you something." Graves finally speaks, breaking Rudy out of his inner turmoil. The younger man hesitantly nods, forcing his fingers to stop moving and rest on his thighs, a small smile making its way on his face.

"Yeah, that's fine. Graves?" He turns slightly in his seat, his face heating up when the man gives a small hum. "I...I know this is going to sound weird but...are we together? Like, are we a couple?"

Graves looks over at him and smiles, something charming and definitely made Rudy's blush darken. "We are. We've been together for four years now, I saved you from an asshole."

"Alejandro Vargas?" Rudy says it like a question, almost flinching when Graves stops the car and turns to look at him in his seat.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Graves gives him a look, something dark in his bright eyes, and Rudy takes a deep breath.

"I, I think I was having flashbacks when I was asleep. I dreamt of waking up in some sort of battlefield, you were there, saying something about me being okay and if the enemy got me. Then it changed, I was...I was restrained and Alejandro walked in this room, saying some weird things. He..." Rudy paused, hands starting to shake again as the memory plays in his mind, those rough hands gripping his hips, his cries falling on ignorant ears as the man thrusted inside of him, no prep or care– but Rudy doesn't want to call it what it is.

"Colonel Vargas is a bad man, Rudy. He doesn't give a shit about his unit or you. We worked with you when you were his second in command, we did some joint work due to a cartel problem. I noticed the way he strung you around like a puppet, you had no freedom and you looked so afraid. I recruited you to become my international SIC, he grew mad and it's when he found out he was working for the cartel that whole time. He locked you up somewhere and I refused to leave, I knew I had to help you escape. I'm happy I did, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me." Graves leans forward and kisses him, Rudy's eyes widening before he returns it shyly, his lips moving a bit inexperienced but Graves didn't mind. He just knew everything was going just how he wanted. Just how the notes said it would go.

"We should get home soon, I want you to eat a meal and get some more rest." Graves says at last, restarting the car and continuing to drive. Rudy stares out the window, getting lost in his thoughts. It's not long before Graves pulls up in a driveway, parking the car and getting out, looking over to Rudy and seeing he was in a trance. With a sigh, he walks to the passenger side and opens the door, gently shaking Rudy, smiling when the younger man looks at him and nods, getting out of the car.

"Welcome home, Rudy." Graves says, guiding him inside the house, and Rudy is amazed with what he sees. There were a handful of soldiers walking around, some talking loudly and others sitting on a couch and cleaning their weapons. Rudy follows Graves further inside the house, going up the stairs to the second floor and seeing a bunch of rooms. "Since I have to keep a close eye on you, we'll be sharing a room for now."

"Oh, okay" Rudy says softly, about to step into the room when a sudden headache hits him. It pounded against his head, his vision going blurry and nausea made his stomach churn uncomfortably and his mouth to water. "Graves..." He mumbles, stumbling forward and Graves catches him, eyes wide as he drags him to the king sized bed and lays him on it.

"Oz, Mila!" He shouts, listening to the incoherent mumbling of Rudy, his heart pounding hard as the smaller man begins to seize. Mila runs in, Oz right behind her carrying a bag and they storm over, the man opening the bag and grabbing a syringe.

"Jesus Christ. Sir, I don't think this is a good idea" Mila's voice is shaky as she watches with wide eyes as Oz hands the syringe over to Graves who injects the substance into Rudy. The seizing stopped and two medics ran in, checking his vitals and nodding at Graves when they deemed he was stable. Oz packs up the supplies and Graves turns to her, his features morphed into a sharp glare.

"You're a Shadow, Mila. This is for our, and his, own good." Is all he says before ushering them out, slamming his door shut and Mila's brow furrowed together. None of this was normal, and as she walks off to find Oz, an uneasy feeling sits in her gut. Who the hell is Rudy, and why did her commander seem so obsessed with the man?

4 hours later

"Good morning, sweetheart" Graves sings when Rudy regains consciousness, those beautiful mocha brown eyes meeting his, that same look of confusion written across his soft face.

"Graves? ¿Qué pasó?" Rudy slurs out and Graves curses mentally, looking around the room for his bag and moving to grab it. He unzips it and takes out a folder, flipping it open and glancing through the notes in there, finding the one he wanted and sighing in disappointment.

"Rook, look at me." He orders, voice turning hard and Rudy sits up, looking at him with some naivety it did something to Graves' body. "No more Spanish, you left that culture behind. You work for me, remember? English only."

Rudy nods, dazed but he understands what his commander is asking of him. "Yes. What happened?"

"You knocked out, I guess you still have a while to recover. It's fine, babe, you'll be up and running in time." Graves says with a fake grin, throwing the folder on his desk and walking over to Rudy. He caresses the drugged man's face, sliding his thumb into his mouth and feeling around the wet heat. He pushes Rudy back against the bed, removing that signature grey hoodie and the shirt underneath it, easily slapping away Rudy's hands that tried pushing him off. He moves fast, undressing both of them, leaning over to open the upper drawer of his nightstand and grabbing the small bottle of lube he has. He squirts some on his fingers, lathering it around before placing them in front of Rudy's entrance, sliding the first digit in. Rudy whines, something full of discomfort and pain, and Graves grunts.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight and wet and I barely fucking touched you." Graves taunts, sliding another finger in and scissoring the sergeant major, smiling when the other's body began to react to the pleasure. Rudy hums, small mewls leaving his plump lips and Graves leans down to capture them in a passionate kiss. He groans into the kiss, thrusting his fingers in and out, not caring that the pleasure Rudy felt began to turn into a dull pain, his lips parting as he starts whimpering in pain.

"G-graves...it hurts" He mumbles, but the commander ignores him, sliding his fingers out and replacing it with his hard dick. He slams in, no mercy or care, simply taking Rudy for his own pleasure. The screams Rudy let out were twisted in his mind, he believed it was all pleasure and lust but Rudy's drugged and destroyed mind began to feel confused and scared. "Graves, stop!"

The slap that came startles him into submission, tears falling from his eyes and Graves halts his movements and glares down at him.

"I know you are confused, Rudy, but you are mine. I will fuck you whenever I want to, I will touch you whenever I want to, you are my sweet lover and you will obey me!" Graves growls and Rudy nods rapidly, too scared to ask a question. Graves seems content with this and continues, Rudy laying there and taking it. He bites his bottom lip so his pained noises don't escape, afraid the older man wouldn't want him to talk. Graves let it slide for now, coming and sliding out of Rudy, heading off to his bathroom to shower.

Rudy continues to lay there, quietly sobbing as his body aches and feels so weird. But no anger was appointed to Graves. He was angry at himself for not being a good boyfriend, for being so broken.

How could Graves still love him when he forgot who he is?

#rook is rudy's alias #phillip graves x rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra #phillip graves #call of duty #writer of various' works #cod modern warfare #all warnings are on ao3 #violence/psychological torture/noncon

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