In Too Deep (Nico x KaGoroth)

Zavier took Micah out of the basement and placed him in the back of his car, knowing he couldn't go anywhere he went back into the room he had spent most of his life. He poured gasoline all over the room and led a trail up the stairs and outside. He sparked up a cigarette and after taking a few drags threw it on the floor. A trail of fire rushing into the room and setting it ablaze. After a moment of watching the flame consume everything he had known he got into his car and drove to his apartment.

Zavier placed his arms under Micah's back and knees and carried him inside, laying him in his bed, pulling the cover over him. His actions were almost like acting out a memory as he stood over his brother, still unable to process fully what had happened in the last few hours. Zavier walked into the kitchen and took a bottle of whiskey out of the fridge, grabbing a glass and pouring a large drink. After downing it and pouring another he took the glass and bottle into his room and sitting down on the chair by the bed.

Zavier was not used to looking after someone, he had only taken lives and never thought he would be in this position. He sat beside Micah and almost finished the bottle of whiskey, falling asleep in the chair beside Micah.

The drive was long, and he didn't know where they were going, but Micah didn't move or speak against being taken away from that horrible basement.

His brother's actions were almost tender, or maybe Micah was just halucinating. The soft bed under him felt like a dream after the hard table and rough treatment. Blue eyes watched his brother's impassive face warily and with a bit of awe as he was tucked in. Micah watched Zavier's broad back retreat from the room, and then curled onto his side. He had fallen alseap, either out of exhaustion or shock, before Zavier returned.

It was early morning when Micah began to stirr. He had been dreaming of his brother, but it had quickly turned into a nightmare. Matthew had been playing hide and seek with him like when they were kids, but instead of feeling the large warm hands of his brother cover his eyes with a laugh, he felt a crushing hand on his neck, pulling him into the darkness.

Micah twitched in the bed, his mouth opening in the beginning of a moan. "M-Matthew-" he cried out quietly, his sleeping face twisting into a mask of fear. In his dream he was alone in the dark. He couldn't find his brother, and he hurt... he hurt where he shouldn't. "Matthew!"

Alan started to stir, he didn't know if what had happened had been the result of 3/4 of a bottle of whisky or what felt like a blow to the head. Hearing his brothers cries for help and something seemed to trigger, almost like a memory he didn't know he had. Without realising it he knelt beside the bed and placed his hands gently on Micah's shoulders.

"i'm here little brother, don't be scared"

Zavier pauses unsure where that came form, thinking he should take his hands of Micah but for some reason he stays there.

Micah didn't wake at the sound of his brother's voice, but he stopped his call as Zavier's hands touched his shoulders. Like a conditioned response, one sleepy hand rose to touch the outsreached arm, patting down to Zavier's broad shoulder. Having found the body he was seeking, Micah shrimped up close, wrapping sleep-laden arms loosely around Zavier's neck and nuzzling his face into his brother's chest.

Zavier's smell was a familiar musk and Micah's body softened against him as he lost all tension. The arms slipped from Zavier's shoulders as Micah fell back into a deeper sleep as he breathed in deeply. The blanket had shifted and moved in the course of the night, and Micah had shucked off the last of It in his attempt at contact. His naked body was spralled out on the bed, the dark bruises begining to bloom on his pale skin, covering him like some sort of art. His legs moved, and Zavier could see that Micah was fully hard between his thighs, pale cock engorged with blood, the tip red, with his earlier fear.

As Micah reached out and held on to Zavier he couldn't move away even though everything seemed to tell him to. As Micah's hand finally moved over his shoulders and back to his sides Zavier saw the extent of what he had done to him, Micah's bruising making him realise how vulnerable he was. As he looks over Micah's body he see's his cock fully erect. Even though he knows he is his brother a part of him still starts to feel aroused again at the sight of his naked body.

The feeling Zavier has leaves as he see's the blood, then everything almost hits him all at once. He gets up and runs a hot bath and returns to Micah, pressing gently on his shoulders.

"Micah, wake up. I need to get you cleaned up. I've got a bath ready."

Zavier stands there waiting to see if Micah wakes up, wanting to get him clean and fixed up.

"Mmm... Matt?" Came the drowsy reply as eyes cracked open to take in the figure standing over him. Micah blinked a few times, noticing the stance of the large man... the scarred face.. and then those blue eye blew wide. He scrambled back on the bed, all the way to the headboard, ignoring the stiffness and aches of his body in his panic.

"Oh-Gu-ohshit-Shit-" Micah had drawn his knees up to his chest, his heart thumping so loud in his chest he felt it could be heard in the dim room. He stopped cursing when he realized Zavier wasn't coming near him. He wasn't being tortured. Micah heard the sound of a bath being run, recalling Zavier's earlier words. He relaxed slightly, looking to the light of the bathroom.

"A bath?" He said cautiously with a tinge of hope. He looked down at himself, noting that he did look like crap, and blushing when he realized he had a full erection. Where had that come from? It couldn't have been brought about by his situation. After a minute, Micah slid himself to the side of the bed, cupping his hands around his groin. He felt pitifully skinny and weak beside the hitman as he tried to stand. With a grunt of pain, Micah crumpled to his knees before Zavier.

Zavier understood Micah's response and just waited until he started coming round and calming down. As Micah pulled up his knees and realised he was fully erect, Zavier couldn't help feel slightly aroused at the sight of Micah's arousal. Seeing Micah cupping his groin he looked up and to Micah's face, seeing his face getting red. He went to catch Micah as he tried to move and failed.

Zavier picked up Micah and carried him like he did before to the bathroom. He gently lay's him in the bath, the water running over his body as Zavier moves his arms away. Realising he's wearing long sleeves Zavier pulls his top off revealing a large diagonal scar across his muscular chest.

With Micah still not fully concious he starts to softly wash Micah's body, sliding the wash cloth over his arms and to his chest.

Micah felt as weak as a kid, or even more so, as Zavier had to carry him to the bathroom. He found he didn't hate being cradled against the hitmans chest as much as he should have.

He let out a sigh of pleasure as the water washed warm over his skin. Micah's muscles began to relax, his eyes hooding again with his drowzyness, but Zaviers hands kept him from slipping further into the bath. Micah watched as his brother removed the black shirt he had been wearing, his muscled arms and chest revealed. Micah took a soft breath in and his cock jumped under his hands, causing him to look quickly down and away. There was no way he found his brother attractive...in that way. Not even as Zavier! Micah convinced himself he had only stared out of envy.

The gentle touch of a washcloth on his shoulder startled him, but the warmth was nice. The touch soon soothed him, and his eyes began to droop He didn't pull away as Zavier continued to silently wash him, not even as the cloth sweapt across the shallow, scabbed cut on his chest.

Zavier see's Micah's hands to his cock and makes it look like he didn't notice. He continues to wash him, making sure to be as gentle as possible. The wash cloth starts sliding across Micah's chest and working his way down Zavier washes around Micah's crotch, his hand occasionally brushing against his erect cock. Zavier continued to wash him and cleaned him up. He lifted Micah out of the bath and dab dried him so as not to rub against the cuts or bruises.

Zavier didn't have any clothes that would fit Micah so he used some of his own so he could cover himself up. Getting Micah dressed Zavier smiled a little as he saw the clothes on you that were way to big. He helps Micah to the bedroom, putting a fresh sheet on the bed and laying him back down. Zavier sat back down on his chair. He had taken care of Micah but it was all taking it's time to sink in.

He knows it's not the right time to bring it up but his voice goes serious as he looks into Micah's eyes. "when they realise what I've done, they will send people to kill both of us. I can keep us safe but we need a place to stay. Zavier knew the people that would be sent and he knew they were not to be underestimated. He knew the full danger they were in and although he could save his own life by handing Micah over he found himself unable to do it.

Even in his sleepy state, Micah could see Zavier was being extreamly gentle with him. It was so different from what he had experienced before he didn't know what to make of it. Micah sat quietly in the bath and let Zavier wash him, breathing in the steam from the bath through his open mouth and watching Zavier out of the corner of his eye. His breathing picked up as the cloth was sweapt across his cock and the insides of his thighs, but he didn't protest.

Clothed and clean, Micah lay back on the bed, fiddling with the long hem of his brother's shirt. It looked rediculous hanging off his shoulders, almost to mid-thigh. The sweats he wore were also too long, even though they were hiked up to his navel. The clothes were a welcome luxury, and a shy smile of thanks creapt onto his lips as he glanced over to Zavier. The next words out of his brother's mouth froze the begginings of that smile in place.

"No..." he whispered, gripping the sheets. They would find him and kill him, and there would be no escape from the torture this time. They would kill him.. they would kill him and his brother. Micah shook his head and ducked it, deliberating hard before he looked up at Zavier guiltily.

"There's still some money left. I didn't. .. ah, I didn't trust it in a bank." Micah dipped his chin, not wanting to see Zaviers reaction. "Just shy of.. Fifty grand I think." Micah winced, knowing how bad that sounded. "It might help some "

He fiddled with Zavier's shirt more. Zavier would have to go and retreave it. Micah wasn't walking much on his own. He'd have to trust Micah to remain here. Micah glanced up, "it's at mom's house. I... uh, fell into, uh those games after she died. She gave the house to aunt Molly, not me, so..." Micah tapered off, realizing his nervous chatter wasn't helping. "Its in a suitcase in the attic."

Zavier listen carefully as Micah talked about what happened and how he had money left, thinking it would of paid of the majority of his debt. He didn't concern himself with that, thinking that would be enough for them to at least find a safer place to hide for now. He looks down at Micah, playing with his shirt "you silly bastard" he almost smiles as he speaks. He thinks for a few moments thinking of a way to get hold of the money, knowing they will be watching the house.

"I will go get the money and pick up some....other supplies I might need. You stay in this bed and don't go anywhere, your clothes were in the basement so hopefully they will think you died in the fire. If they are looking out for me they will come for me first so as long as i can avoid them you will be safe. I will head out now while it's still dark and be back as soon as possible."

Zavier grabs his jacket and his switch blade, putting it in the jacket pocket. He grabs his car keys and turn to look at you. "remember, no sound and no moving around. He walks out and heads to there mothers house to find the money.

Micah nodded and remained mute, watching the hitman pick up a knife and put it in his jacket. He didn't want to know who it was that would make a killer like Zavier cautious. Perhaps it was more than one person coming after them. The thought of running made him nervous. Where would they go? They would have to leave the state. Micah wondered if he would ever be able to be away from Zavier's side. His dependency on the hitman made him think twice about his situation. He felt like an unnecessary burden. Why was Zavier going through so much trouble for him? What if he got tired of him, or worse, he felt that taking the money and turning Micah over would be more profitable?

Micah nodded, giving Zavier the address. "Be careful," he mumbled after his brother's back as Zavier left. Micah looked around at the room his was in, rubbing his sore shoulders alternatively. He didn't know where he was, but he was alone. Now he had time to think.

An hour had gone by and Micah was starting to get anxious. He had spent the time stretching and contemplating the consequences of crawling out of wherever he was to the authorities. Surely, those people and Zavier couldn't get to him or hurt him if he was behind bars, or a part of a protection program… Right? Micah shivered. Maybe he was safer with Zavier. At least for the moment.

Sliding off the bed, he tried to stand, but groaned and sank to his knees. Slowly, he was able to crawl to the bathroom. He pulled himself onto the toilet, and then washed his hands and face when he was finished. Micah tried not to look at himself in the mirror. He knew he wouldn't recognize his reflection. Instead, he dipped his head under the faucet, taking gulps of water, thirster than he had felt in a long time. He didn't think the sound of a toilet flush or running sink water was any big deal, he didn't equate it to 'making noise,' forgetting his brother's warning.

After Zavier was satisfied Micah was not going to run or bring down unwanted attention. He left the apartment, looking around all the time before getting in the car and driving to the address Micah had given him. He parked up a couple miles away and went through the back. Zavier had only one advantage, he knew how they worked and he knew if they set a trap what they would do. Zavier check every step as he slowly couched his way to the house's back door. He opened the door a little and reached his hand into the corner with his switch blade and after locating the wire cut it gently. He walked in the door looking up and seeing a bell was attached to the string and the door. "so predictable....fucking idiots" Considering his size, his foot steps were almost silent as he slowly walked up to the attic and found the suitcase. He checked it out before opening it, seeing the money "Micah.....you dumb bastard"

He went into the bedrooms trying to find some clothes for Micah, unable to find any he started to walk out, getting only a glimpse of a fist before he feels the strike against his nose. It didn't break but it was pouring blood. Zavier dropped the suitcase not knowing how they got the drop on him. He see's how it is, "you should of killed me when you had the chance" he gets ready to strike when the other man starts laughing. "you can kill me but when you get back to that shit hole apartment of yours your going to find your brother hanging by his one intestines."

Zavier looked at him "you knew he was my brother?" the other man laughed "we all did asshole, you were set up from the start." Zaviers eyes widen as he launches towards the man and grabs his head, twisting and snapping his neck. Zavier grabs the case and runs to his car, ignoring the blood pouring out of his nose. He speeds back to the apartment.

Two men approach the apartment and pick the lock on the door, they creep in and look around before opening the door to Zaviers room. One guy walks into the bathroom and the other walks towards you pulling out a vicious looking serrated knife. He was only a few feet now and he smiles at Micah. "I'm going to give you the chance to decide which limb you lose first"

Micah froze at the amused voice, catching sight of the glint of a knife in the mirror. He hadn't heard the footsteps over the sound of the sink running. Once again, running water had betrayed him.

His heart seemed to stutter, and then beat as loud as a drum in his ears. Micah fell away from the sink and to the tiled floor of the bathroom, scrambling back from the man holding the knife. He acted on instinct, like a cornered animal, crawling under the sink and pressing himself as far back into the corner as possible. He gripped the plastic wastebasket in front of his knees like it was some sort of pitiful shield.

"N-NO-!" Micah's mind was running a million miles per second, trying to find his way out of this. The adrenaline rushing through his veins only served to make him shake, as he couldn't run.

Zavier was furious and sped back as fast as he could. He saw the other guy's car and slashed the tires on the way in just in case they got past him. His breathing was fast and his heart was pounding, feeling something he couldn't describe but knew he hadn't felt in a long time. As he got to the floor under his apartment he slowed down, readying his knife and looking around. There was no one in sight but he heard Micah's plea followed by shuffling. He got to the front door and saw the shadow of the man in front of Micah.

Only seeing one guy Zavier Sneaks up on the guy, his huge hand covers the hand with the knife in. Zavier forces the knife still in the guys hand to his throat, the serrated side to his throat. More force and a quick pull of the guys arm and his neck opens, Zavier lets him go and as the man falls to the floor a gush of blood hitting one side of Zaviers face as he turns his head.

The other man rushes in and Zavier tries to grab the knife but all he manages to do is stop it thrust into his chest, the struggle forces the knife into Zaviers Shoulder. "AHHHHHHHGGGHHH" His voice bellowed. Zavier Pulled the knife out of his shoulder and forced it into the man's throat. A gurggled chocking sound is all that escaped as he fell to his knees then to the ground. Zavier was facing Micah but couldn't see him almost in a blind rage. He stood there with his hands to his sides, fists balled and breathing heavy. Zaviers chest going in and out, making his shoulders look even more broad, half his face and most of his clothes now covered in blood.

"Micah....here are you?" His voice still bellowing but not in anger any more.

Micah was cowering in the corner of the bathroom under the sink as the stranger grinned down at him. He hated how weak his limbs felt, how defenseless he was, but only one question kept replaying in his mind; where was his brother? Had they killed him? Was Matthew dead? Was he dead... because of him? For some reason the thought of Matthew lying hurt and dead made his throat tighten up with more emotion than just fear.

The man advanced gripping the nasty-looking blade, not heeding Micah's pleas as he kicked the waist basket away, "Stop- No! Zav-Matthew! MATTHEW!"

Micah threw up his arms above his head, trying to protect himself, but the blow never came. Instead, a horrible gurgling scream screeched across his ears, and Micah looked up only to see the serrated knife that had been threatening him moments ago embedded deep in his attacker's neck. It looked like the hitman had stabbed himself, but Micah could see the large hand that yanked the man's arm across his own neck, finishing the killing thrust. The gore rained down on the tile before him, and Micah cringed back with a horrified cry of his own, watching the man fall to the floor, his bulging eyes going glassy as he struggled to pull wet breaths of blood into his lungs through his shredded neck.

Micah raised a shaking hand to his own neck, fighting not to lose his stomach. He looked up, reaching for the figure of his brother, when he saw another rush in from behind. "M--!"

Zavier had turned in time, but the seeking blade had still pierced him. Micah shouted in fear as his brother was injured, his hand reaching out for Zavier as if somehow trying to help. His brother's thundering cry had Micah cowering again, it was so similar to the cry of rage that he had made when Micah thought he would take his life in that cold basement. It was savage, animalistic... raw. He could see the cold murderous intent in his brother's eyes as he split open the second man's throat. Micah knew Zavier was vicious, and cold-as-stone brutal.. but he... he had never seen an actual killing. It seemed to drive it all home. He had never seen a person actually die. Zavier showed him he was an efficient killer; Micah had watched the light leave the pain-stricken eyes of the men he had killed right in front of him.

Micah gaped out at the carnage from his place under the sink, his hands twisting in his hair, not really able to comprehend what he had just seen. He had frozen in place and was looking out at his blood-covered, rigid brother as Zavier called for him, not wanting to show himself. Zavier was more than just menacing, standing covered in the blood of the men at his feet. He was downright terrifying. Every muscle in Micah told him to run, every instinct in him told him to stay hidden, but he slowly unfurled himself… and skittishly crawled out from under the sink.

His limbs moved mechanically, with some effort as Micah crawled towards his brother across the bloodstained floor, shaking. He hesitated slightly right before Zavier's shoes, and then without a word, he lifted his shaking arms to wrap around his brother's legs. Micah pressed his face into his brother's thigh, the strength in his own arms feeling feeble as he squoze as tightly as he could what he could reach of Zavier. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Micah choked out, trying to hold his brother tighter.

Zavier was in an almost inhuman rage, his eyes almost black. He started to calm down as he heard Micah's soft words. The fear in his voice obvious hearing the same two words repeated, almost like a mantra. Zavier Looked down. He picked up Micah and carried him into the bathroom. He wiped as much blood of him as he could. "Stay here, i need to change." He goes into his room and changes his clothes, there is a loud thud as Zavier slams his fists through the cupboard door. "BASTARDS" Another thud echo's through the apartment "THEY KNEW.....THEY KNEW"

Zavier walks to the bathroom and puts a bag in front of Micah "that's all the clothes I had time to grab before I had to come back, change quickly. Once they fail to report back there will be more. Three are dead now. There's only two left in there group, unless they have increased there numbers, but lets hope for our sake they haven't.

"Oh by the way, it doesn't matter what you were doing while i was gone, this whole thing was a trap. I was supposed to die at your mum's house. Micah you need to make a decision, i need you to think carefully but i also need you to think fast. Until i can make sure they are all gone this could happen again, and next time i may not get here on time. On the other hand, these people have connection i don't know about. Even if you do hide away from me, they may still find you. You need to make up your mind as to weather your coming with me or going into hiding."

Micah winced at every blow that crashed through the room. Zavier was in a rage. He had been careful with him, and had left Micah sitting and waiting with brusk words, but as soon as his brother was out of his sight, Zavier's dangerous wrath had returned. It sounded like he was laying havoc into the apartment.

He started when his brother walked back into the bathroom, dropping a bag in front of him. Micah nodded, taking in the new information. They were hunting them. And they knew… what? He pulled off the bloodstained clothes, wobbly as he tugged on a slightly better fitting green t-shirt, plain briefs, and a pair or jeans.

"A trap?" Micah's voice faltered as the words came out, looking up at Zavier, "Why?" His question suddenly didn't seem as pressing as his brother gave him the one ultimatum which would most likely determine the rest of his life. However long he had to live it...

Micah took in a deep breath, looking down at his hands. That was it? He was just going to let him go? The draw of freedom welled up in him, but then he paused. Why… did he not want to leave Zavier? The hitman was demented… cutthroat… dangerous. There was no way Micah could have a chance at fighting with him. He had already felt the bite of Zavier's displeasure, or pleasure, depending on how he looked at it. He would have to be crazy to stay under his wing, in his sphere of influence. Micah's eyes glanced up at Zavier, flicking over the blood under his brother's nose and covering his grim face. The hitman had also saved his life more than once. He didn't know how much of his brother remained in Zavier, but if there was anything he would gamble on, it was that his brother was now the only thing standing between him and having his neck spilt open like the poor bastards that were leaking out the remainder of their life fluid as they spoke.

"We both know I wouldn't last more than two minutes on my own, if I even made it out the door," he laughed nervously, although it came out more hollow than joyous. Micah reached for a washcloth, wetting it in the sink and bringing it up to his brother's face. He cleaned the blood away as best he could with gentle swipes, like Zavier had done for him that morning. "I want to stay with you," he said quietly, wiping the last of the blood from beside his brother's mouth. Micah's eyes rose to Zavier's, and then quickly fell away.

"I promised too, didn't I?" he mumbled, then pressed his hand against Zavier's chest, near his shoulder's wound, "You're hurt Matt," Micah grimaced, brows coming together with worry. He didn't know what to do with stab wounds. He barely knew what to do with paper cuts.

Zavier watched as Micah weighed out the pros and cons, his turmoil obvious as he tried to joke, his laughter sounding desperate. Zavier almost pulled away as Micah started to clean the blood from his face, not understanding why Micah would care after what was done to him. He remained still until Micah was done, still waiting for an answer. He was about to press him for an answer when Micah spoke. Hearing Micah say he would go with Zavier was what he wanted to hear. Zavier was sightly troubled by his wanting to have Micah come with him, if he went on his own he would have a much greater chance of survival. Something told him that Micah would be worth the trouble and maybe even fill in some gaps.

Feeling Micah's hand on his chest and hearing his concern Zavier took a step back. "I can deal with it later, it's not as bad as it looks and I've had worse. We have the money and I have my kit it the trunk of the car. We need to get out of here now, I will explain everything when we are at a safe location. Although after this I don't know how many are actually going to be safe. We will stay in a motel out of town until I can scope out some of my old safe houses." Zavier looked directly into Micah's eyes. "It is extremely important that you do as I say when say it or we aren't going to last the week" Zavier didn't wait for an answer he just turned to walk away. Realising how weak Micah still is he picked him up like he had before and carried him to the car, placing him in the back seat.

The drive took almost two hours and most of it was back road, staying on main roads as little as possible. They arrived at a motel that was not to bad considering how out of the way it was. Zavier took Micah into the room and put him down on the only bed in the room, it was a double bed and very soft. Zavier went back out for the money and his kit and came back in placing them on the floor. Zavier closed the blinds and shut the curtains. He took a deep breath and turned to Micah. I guess I should fill you in, although you will probably wish you hadn't been told. He grabbed a glass of water and set it down in Micah's reach. Sitting on the chair next to the bed Zavier started to fill Micah in on what was happening.

"For the last....fuck knows how many years I have been working for a man named Liam Holtz. He is the main distributor of drugs and guns, started as a local drug dealer and worked up from there. I was his main collector and it was my job to....well you know that part. When I was in the house getting the money one of his men was waiting for me and told me that they knew you were my brother from the start and sent me after you anyway. Turns out they were watching the building and after I killed you were going to take me out as I walked out. I seem to of outlived my usefulness. I just don't know why though, it makes no sense and i need to find out why.

Zavier stood up and fell to his knees "urhhhh ahhh" His wound was deeper than he thought. He fell onto one hand, the other holding the area of his wound. He got back up to his knees and grabbed his kit "stay on the bed, your not going to want to be within arms reach while I do this. It's ok, I've done this before." Zavier took off his jacket and shirt and opened his kit, it was a large tool bag similar to what plumbers carry. He opened it up and brought out a little kit with some creams, syringes, creams a thin piece of metal, pliers and a mini blowtorch. He slid the bag out of his reach, sliding into Micah's line of vision. It's filled with a variety of blades, torture equipment and a couple of pistols.

Zavier Grabbed a wet cloth and cleaned it up the best he could, using the syringe to put in what looked like some sort of pain meds. Zavier picked up the thin piece of metal with the pliers and used the Mini blowtorch to heat the metal until it was glowing orange. Zavier took a deep breath and placed the metal across the wound. "AHHHRRRGGHHHH FUCK" His breathing seemed strangely controlled consider what he just did to himself. He took out the cream and rubbed it over the wound. He sat there for a while before getting up and grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket and laid down on the floor. "get some sleep, your going to need it.....brother" He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Micah had nodded in the bathroom, caught in the intensity of his brother's stare. He held up his arms so that Zavier could pick him up. It made him frown to be carried, to be so dependent, but Zavier had been gentle. Micah knew he was doing it for his own good, and they both moved faster this way. In the car, Micah had laid himself out over the backseat, going over in his head what had happened. His eyes flinched shut at the memories. So much blood. Death had been dealt by his brother's hands so quickly and fluidly, it almost seemed like a mockery of fortune that Micah had been under his blade and was still alive.

Micah looked around the motel room only briefly, before his eyes settled back on his brother. Zavier was walking around, readying the room, and caring for him, seeming to carry on as if the horrible puncture in his shoulder didn't exist. Micah glanced over at the cup of water Zavier had set before him. It was a small gesture, something that could be easily overlooked, but somehow it made him feel the significance of his brothers guardianship over him even more. He smiled faintly. Micah met his brother's eyes, listening closely as he spoke, explaining his past and their situation. His brow creased as he watched Zavier's face and tried to make sense of it all. Someone had known they were brothers. Someone had set them up, knowing Zavier had amnesia, and would not remember Micah. Someone had been banking on the fact that killing without remorse was what Zavier did best and hadn't expected Micah to live through it, brother or not. He fiddled with his shirt, deep in thought. A slight widening of his eyes hinted at a guess at a motive in Micah's mind, but he kept silent. He didn't know Zavier's world, or the people in it, and he had no proof to back up his speculation.


The gasp from Zavier had his head snapping up, an arm reaching out for his brother before he could think twice. Seeing Zavier on his knees scared Micah in a way he couldn't explain. It wasn't right. He tried to move towards him, but was stopped by the dark warning in his brother's deep voice. Micah hesitated, his legs hanging halfway off the bed, and watched as Zavier stripped and opened his kit. Micah's eyes widened as he saw the implements Zavier drew out, and then he was pulling his legs back onto the bed and inching away as he caught a glimpse of what the rest of the… 'tools' were in the pack. He held his breath as Zavier's face seemed to change, to harden, while the hitman expertly cleaned the wound and raised the syringe.

His brother's collected execution of what had to be done both amazed and frightened the shit out of Micah. He went pale, unable to look away from the operation, although his eyes got wider and he sunk lower into the sheets with every passing heartbeat. There was no way, no way in hell he would ever have been to be able to do something like that to himself, much less someone else. Zavier's iron fisted control was more than unnerving. His brother's guttural cry of pain had evoked a shudder of both fear and empathy. He grew a bit anxious when Zavier sat silently, unmoving. He didn't venture to speak up though, and he didn't relax his tense grip on the comforter until Zavier's eyes seemed to return to normal, and he moved to grab a pillow and a blanket. By the time he was done and had huffed out a gruff order, Micah had already sunk low into the sheets, his first instinct to hide. He definitely didn't want to be within reach of that pain.


Micah lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to get to sleep, but something other than his general unease itched at him, and it wouldn't let him close his eyes. Micah glanced down to the floor. It was cool in the room, and it would definitely be colder out from under the comforter he was wrapped in. Not to mention sleeping on the floor was hard and unforgiving. Zavier had a wounded shoulder. What he did... had looked like so much pain. Micah winced, remembering the orange-hot metal and the smell of seared flesh. No. There was no way he could stay silent and just let Zavier sleep on the floor of the motel.

"Hey. Matthew-" Micah called softly, staring at the bulge on the floor. The dark always made things look more menacing, he told himself. "Matt, I can't... with you on the floor, and me... up here." He shifted within the covers, drawing them up to his chin, "Can you- I mean you should, uh, you should take the other side of the bed," his voice was quiet, like he was questioning himself even as he said the words, "S'Not good for your shoulder," he mumbled, then on second thought added, "please?" Micah stared at the back of his unmoving brother, unsure if he had even heard him. Maybe he had already fallen asleep.

Zavier heard his brother speaking but decided to remain still, he wasn't used to even sharing a room with someone let alone a bed. Most of the life he could remember the only times he was around someone was when he had been sent to kill them, a true loner. After about an hour he fell asleep, waking up early the next morning. Zavier looked to the bed and saw Micah asleep and for reasons unknown to him pulled the cover up to his shoulder, caring for people had never been his thing. There was a small room next to the bathroom with a table and chair and Zavier took his bag inside and pulled the door to but not all the way so he could look back to make sure Micah was still there. He opened his bad and started to empty the contents onto the table, talking almost in a whisper as he placed the things down.

"P226, Glock 17, cleavers, scalpels, bowie knife, syringe and sedatives, rope, cuffs" He takes a deep breath "that will have to do for now, need a couple silencers and some bullets." He hadn't looked back to check on Micah as now his mind was only thinking about what would happen next, possibilities going through his head. Will they come after them, will they find them, is he going to have to kill anyone else and how many? As stupid as the idea sounded he even thought if he could kill Liam his men might back off. So many things were going through his head it almost gave him a headache.

Zavier reached into his bad and pulled out a sharpening stone and picked up the bowie knife and started to sharpen it, knowing if anyone came then this is what he would be reaching for first. The polished wooden handle with 12 inch blade had been his most used kill tool, often used to deliver the final cut. Zavier ran the edge of the blade against the stone, turning it to do both sides.

Zavier had decided on a plan of action that would give them a better chance of survival but it would be tricky and if anything went wrong then it would be very dangerous and could end up in both of them getting killed. He felt a little pain in his shoulder and removed his shirt, looking to the wound "oh yeah" forgetting in his focused state that had even happened. He pressed against it and felt a little sore, putting a little more cream on. Zavier stood up and stretched, his arms out to the sides before holding them up straight. His back muscles and shoulder blades very predominant, two long scars going form his left shoulder almost all the way down to the bottom right side. Zavier sat down and continued to look over his kit.

Micah had come to consciousness at the sound of a blade being sharpened. Still not fully awake, he tossed in the sheets, wondering what the noise was and why it grated over his nerves. Blinking, Micah looked around himself, not completely sure where he was. He lay on his back, looking around the room as a hand went to his forehead. At least the sleek sound had stopped. His eyes slid to his right. The water glass on the desk was familiar and brought him back to his situation, and Micah reached for it, suddenly feeling thirsty.

As he drank, he looked over the rim of the cup and down at the floor where his brother had been the night before, but Zavier was missing. Micah's hand tensed around the cup, his eyes flicking to the shadows of the room. "Matt?" he whispered uncertainly, catching movement from the small alcove beside the bathroom. Micah fell silent, licking a bead of water from his bottom lip after moment, and slowly set the cup down. He stared at his brother's bare back as Zavier stretched, observing the way he moved to work out the kinks and soreness from the day before. The thought of his own hands spreading over that skin and helping to smooth the tension from his brother's shoulders surprised him, and Micah looked away, rubbing a hand down his face.

"How did you get those scars?" he asked, playing with the now-empty cup in his hands and looking towards the outline of his brother he could see in the small room.

Zavier turned his head as he heard his brother voice, seeing him sitting confused him as he couldn't help start to feel something for him. He tried to shake it off as he moved out of the room trying to get out and shut the door without Micah seeing what was on the table. He grabbed his shirt, still bloodied with the hole from the knife and pulled it over him. Sitting on the chair opposite Micah and began to talk, his voice different from what Micah would of heard. A sense of calm about his voice as he spoke quietly and calm.

"I was sent after a man who owed Liam almost half a million dollars and killed the last guy he sent to get it from him. Liam sent me to make sure he was....taught a lesson. I caught up with him in an old motel and after picking the lock and walking in was blinded by a high powered miners torch and knocked out. I woke up and was hanging from my wrists from the ceiling and he used a large bowie knife to cut through my back and chest. Unfortunately for him what I was attached to came loose and i fell to the floor. He cam at me again and i managed to get the knife from him, the other two came at me and......well....you saw what happened at my apartment, let's just say they didn't get of so lightly. I lost my temper and twelve hours later I left the motel room, I still have the knife he used on me and then was used on them. You might of heard about it since it was all over the news, 'Bright Star Motel Massacre' they called it."

Zavier stopped talking, thinking that might of been a little more information than he wanted to know. Taking a deep breath "I need to go into town for a few things and we need some clothes. I'll be gone about two hours but i don't want you to worry. We were not followed and this isn't one of my usual places so they will not be searching here." Zavier stands up and grabs his keys, wallet, watch and Jacket. He walks into the little alcove and picks up the P226 and put it in the custom made holster he had made on the inside of his jacket and walked back out and shut the door. "don't go in there, I'll be back as soon as I can." Zavier walked out of the motel room and locked the door behind him, the sound of his car could be heard as he drove off.

"Oh… Oh fuck. That was you?"

Hell yes he had heard of it. Everyone had. It was all over the news; it was all over the country! Those men hadn't just been killed. They'd been butchered. The whole thing was a bloodbath; he'd heard the motel had taken forever to be re-opened because the bodies had been so dismembered and mangled they couldn't tell which part belonged to which torso. Micah's mind reeled every time he learned something like this about Matthew. It drove home just what his brother did for a living and what he was capable of. He resisted the urge to lean away from Zavier, instead focusing on the details of his brother's face. Zavier sat calm before him, his posture erect yet relaxed, with a natural sort of keen perception behind his eyes. He was untroubled, so it seemed, but Micah had never been great at reading people. His curiosity alighted on the scar that ran down Zavier's cheek, but this time he didn't ask. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the story behind it.

"Ok. Bring back some food?" Micah called after Zavier as he left, and then looked down at himself. With a sigh, he began to stretch him limbs out.

It was boring. Micah couldn't help but feel that sitting within the room was almost painful. He knew Zavier was somewhere out there, risking his neck, but at the moment he was stuck here with no source of entertainment and it was… boring. Micah counted the spots on the ceiling again, laying draped over the bed on his back. He had already tried to stand up straight again and walk, but the best he could do was hobble while holding onto the furniture. He'd given that up a while ago. He didn't know how much time had passed. There was no clock in the room, and he didn't have his cellphone any longer. After the second heaved sigh he told himself to shut up. This was a hundred times better than being threatened at knife point.

Micah's eyes glanced towards the alcove's door. Zavier had said not to go in there.

"He shouldn't have said that," Micah grumbled, turning onto his stomach. Soon his eyes were drifting back to the door. What was behind it that his brother didn't want him to see? Was it something important? Or maybe it was his brother's stuff that he didn't want Micah getting into. Micah rolled over on the bed and stilled with a frown until he slapped his hands down on the mattress and sat up. He was just going to peek. Standing shakily, he used the back of the chair to help him walk slowly towards the door. Just a peek. Couldn't hurt.

Zavier managed to scope out an old safe house that he hadn't told anyone about and was sure it was safe, going inside and looking around. It was a two bedroom flat on the top floor of an old building on the outskirts of town. Easy access to the fire stairs outside his window and plenty of back ally's to lose any pursuers. It was a well kept place to make sure if anyone had to go in it wouldn't raise suspicion. After he was sure no one had been in and it was safe he went to the local gun store to get a silencer for his custom P226 and plenty of ammo. After grabbing some clothes for the both of them and some food and drink he headed back for the motel room. There were a few cars outside the room so he had to park a few spots down, were his car wouldn't be heard by Micah. He put the key in the door and unlocked it walking in and seeing Micah at the door to the alcove room.

Zavier's eyes widen as he drops the bags and rushes to the door Micah is standing in front of. "I SAID DON'T GO IN THERE" Grabbing Micah's arm and pulling him away and pushing him onto the bed. Zavier looked inside to make sure you where not in there already and coming back out. He turns to Micah on the bed and stands there. He looks pissed off but not in the way Micah had seen him in. Zavier walks towards him and is now standing beside the bed. "If you go against me again there will be consequences." He looks back to the alcove then back to Micah. "I told you not to go in there because my kit is laid out on the table and I....." he pauses "I didn't want you to get scared".

Zavier turns his back to Micah and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He walks back to the bags and picks them up placing the one with Micah's clothes beside him on the bed. "you need to shower and get changed. We will eat and sleep here one more night. I have a place we can stay that's safe. Zavier goes into the room and places his gun, silence and the bullets on the table and comes straight back out and starts sorting out his clothes and the food.