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befuddled-calico-whump · 3 months

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Total$hit$how: Hail Mary

in which Benji tries to make a friend

cw: referenced torture/interrogation, death mention, adult language

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They were summoned to the briefing room instead of the training bay that morning, and Benji stumbled through the door sleepy and uneasy, stuck with a pit in his stomach that had formed the second Vic pushed play on the video. It hadn’t exactly gotten worse since, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

He was happy Sahota was safe and not-currently-being-tortured, he was, but he didn't know how to respond to the whole situation. What did you say to someone who'd just escaped a brutal interrogation session? Literally hours ago? It wasn't the kind of event they made greeting cards for.

After last night, he could kinda get why their trainer was so intense all the time. What kind of sane person went through that and then, as Kaius said, just walked it off? Vic was right. None of them were used to he and Sahota's brutal lifestyle, least of all Benji. Even after Sahota had made it back, he'd still had nightmares about that stupid video. And as much as he felt bad for the guy, he was still every bit as scary as he'd always been. Maybe scarier.

Benji hoped their trainer wouldn't be in the meeting at all, that he'd take the day off, but he knew neither of them were that lucky. And sure enough, when he stepped into the briefing room to take a seat beside Kaius, their trainer was standing at the head of the table, looking over the contents of the Important Folder, face impassive as ever despite the bruises that covered it.

Shit, how was he standing? It wasn't even like he had to stand; there were plenty of seats. Did he just like standing that much? Or was this some kind of posturing? A ‘yeah I'm tougher than you, so what?’ type of intimidation tactic. If it was, it was working.

Still, it only seemed polite to congratulate him on the whole not-being-captured thing.

Benji cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling on this fine morning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. He had the feeling Sahota wouldn't appreciate something as pitiful as concern.

“Fine,” he replied flatly, and that seemed to be the end of it.

“If I were you, I would've stayed in bed,” Benji tried, and didn't know why. The guy clearly wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Maybe this really was as common an occurrence as Vic had implied. Just another Tuesday morning.

“You're not me,” Sahota replied, his eyes glued to the folder in his hands.

Okay, he'd take the hint and shut up now. If there was one person he didn't want to see pissed off, it was Sahota. Well… Sahota and Vic. As friendly as he normally was, Vic had shown he could be pretty scary when he wanted, and every threat he made was backed up by the cold hard fact that their lives actually were in his hands.

Kaius was silent beside him, and Benji wondered if he'd been similarly shut down by their trainer. Probably not. Kaius had probably read the room a little better and been quiet from the start.

Joy and Jericho were the next to enter, and he heard one of them wince in sympathy.

“Sahota…”

“Shit, dude.”

If Sahota recognized their less-than-nuanced reactions at all, he didn't address it. “Take your seats. Once Harbor arrives, we'll go over the new findings.”

Joy sat beside Benji, and when he saw her start to open her mouth, he tried to nudge her under the table in warning, but she ignored him.

“You're not looking so hot,” she said. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I'm fine,” Sahota replied.

“Like fuck you are,” Joy said. “Isn't there a medic or something on this base? You should—”

“I'm fine,” Sahota spat. “It's not your place to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Cavan. If I hear any more insistent comments, I'll meet you all on the sparring mats after this.”

Jericho’s face turned a shade more worried. “Now?”

“You think I can't?” When no one answered, he snapped the folder shut and tucked it under his arm. “I'll thank you all to remain on track.”

His touchiness about the subject seemed like more than just annoyance. Was he embarrassed?

Benji got that. A feeling like scraping your knee as a kid and wanting to hide your tears from your friends. Only Sahota wasn't crying. Benji wasn't even entirely sure he was capable of such a feat.

The door swung open and Vic strolled inside, Harbor on his heels. They'd been spending a decent chunk of time together. Private tutoring, or whatever. Maybe more than just that, judging by the way Harbor looked at Vic like he was made of gold. Not really his business either way. If Harbor was happy cozying up to the scary spy man, Benji wasn't gonna judge him for it.

“Good morning, everyone. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Benji said. What would happen if he did miss it? Would Sahota get in his face and threaten him again? Drag him out of bed? Would Vic coolly remind him that the alternative was prison?

“We've recently acquired new intel.” Vic crossed the room, taking the folder from Sahota and laying it in the center of the table. “Sahota will brief you, and then we'll be requiring some of your skills in order to refine it. Questions?”

A heavy silence answered him. Not even Joy raised her hand.

“Wonderful. I’ll leave you in his capable hands.” Vic clapped Sahota on the back, in a gesture that might’ve been friendly if it weren’t for the wounds Benji knew were hiding under his shirt. Their trainer stifled a yelp, his expression flickering from stony to pained, then back to stony in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, my apologies,” Vic said, though something in his voice had Benji wondering if he'd done it on purpose. Like some kind of inside joke. A little ‘gotcha’. Vic threw a smile at Sahota on his way out, closing the door behind him. Their trainer didn't acknowledge it.

Sahota moved to the table, opening the folder and fanning out its contents. It was only then that Benji saw the bandages on his right hand, carefully hidden in his jacket sleeve before now, binding three of his fingers together in a stiff white mass. When he glanced down, he saw a flash of white on his other hand, too.

Jeez.

“I’ve narrowed down our target to a single spot,” Sahota said, tapping one of the papers. “Rotorworx’s northwestern location. The Elysium Building.”

Benji swallowed down the unhelpful pang of sympathy that was attempting to shake him like a tambourine. Elysium. He knew of the place, vaguely. He wasn’t a city native, hadn’t even set foot in San Arbos before getting this bizarre excuse of a job offer, but when you’d been staging high-end robberies for over a decade, you tended to notice the shinier buildings when you wound up somewhere new.

Sahota slid a second paper from the pile. “They use a custom security program, but I managed to work out a few of the specs. Aside from that…” He pushed forward a third page. “I also compiled a list of names. Individuals who may be connected to the development of the Reality Cage.” He slid one page over to Jericho. “Davis, Cavan, I want you on security. See Vic about getting computer access.”

Jericho took the page, and Joy leaned over in her chair to peer at it over his shoulder.

Sahota passed the other paper to Kaius. “Manak, sift through the names and see if anyone listed is particularly relevant. Cross-reference with our database to find any knowns. We may be able to bribe an insider.”

Kaius’s expression darkened when Sahota added,

“Take Harbor with you.”

It was almost enough to make Benji chuckle, but not quite.

“Find out what you can,” Sahota finished. “We’ll reconvene at 1600.”

Each pair scurried off, assignments in hand, like elementary schoolers who’d just been tasked with a group project. Which left only Benji, shifting awkwardly in his chair as Sahota took the seat opposite him.

Shhhit, was he in trouble? He pored over any recent maybe-offenses, his stellar anti-confrontational brain at the ready to create an excuse or explanation or outright lie that would put him in the clear.

But… he hadn’t actually done anything, had he? Unless this was about how useless he’d been in the maze yesterday. Would Sahota even know about that?

“Um,” he began.

“Ruebin,” Sahota said at the same time, and Benji quickly shut his mouth.

“I need your skills for another task.” His hand dipped under the table, coming back with a little metal box, roughly the size of a zippo lighter. Its seam was so fine it was nearly invisible, a teeny-tiny lock on one end. A tubular cam in miniature.

“I’m guessing you want me to pop that open?” Benji said, holding out his hand. Sahota made no move to give him the box.

“Inside is a micro-USB with Elysium’s full floorplans on it. The box is titanium. Unable to be opened without the key or application of powertools. Brute force could destroy the intel within. The wrong key will destroy the lock and render it inoperable.”

Benji let out a low whistle. “That’s some real spy shit, huh?”

“I don’t currently have the finesse required to pick the lock,” Sahota continued, ignoring his comment in a way that Benji would normally consider rude, but since this was Sahota, it was pretty par for the course.

“What happened to the key?” he asked, deciding it was better to question that than Sahota’s lack of finesse. He already knew the explanation there.

“I had to destroy it.”

Benji raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t have, like, an extra one laying around here somewhere..?”

“Defeats the purpose of the real spy shit, doesn’t it?” Sahota muttered. “I need you to get it open.” At long last, he placed the box on the table and nudged it towards Benji. He picked it up, smooth metal still warm from Sahota’s palm.

“Hand tools are available for your use. Take all the time you need.” He laid a small leather booklet on the table, lockpicks the size of needles nestled within. “If you screw it up, chances are high that we lose the information inside.” His eyes met Benji’s, looking darker than usual against his bruised skin. “Don’t screw it up.”

Benji swallowed, closing the thing in his fist. “Roger that.”

It was bad enough being tasked with something that was both so critical and so easy to fuck up. It became a million times worse when Sahota made no move to leave, instead settling back in the chair across from him and sifting through the folder.

Benji cleared his throat. “Um…”

“What?”

Benji shrugged. “I, ah, don’t usually do this for an audience,” he said. Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to tell Sahota that he made him nervous. “My best work has always come out of solo acts, so if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“I do mind.” A paper rustled in his hand as he turned it over. “For the purpose of the mission, the contents of that box are top secret. I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

Benji let out a heavy sigh before he could stop himself, but if Sahota noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He set the box on the table and pulled the lockpicks closer. A half-diamond pick would probably be a good place to start, at least for probing. Benji twirled the tiny thing between two fingers, trying to plant his gaze on the lock itself, and not on the man across from him.

Fuck, Sahota’s presence just made him more anxious about this. Stupid or not, his brain found solace in distance, reasoning that if he did fuck up, at least he had a head start on running away. As it was, he was sitting closer to an arm’s length. Within punching distance. Hair-grabbing distance. Sahota had already done that once, and that had been for the crime of fake-surrendering. What would he do if Benji messed up some actually-critical shit?

He was almost too nervous to hold the pick right.

Really, this was perfect. What was better than being stuck in a room with someone you were slightly terrified of? Being stuck in a room with someone you were terrified of but also kinda felt bad for, of course. If he hadn’t just watched Sahota get tortured, he might be able to sit quiet and pick the lock in an anxiety-fueled haze. If it were anyone else in his trainer’s position, he could just talk to them and make sure they were okay. But those two concepts just didn’t mix right, and the longer he sat in silence, the more the bizarre cocktail of worry and care and fear shook up inside him.

He had to say something. So far, none of them had really been conversational with their trainer, only interacting with him during the training itself. Maybe that was the root issue. Maybe a little chit-chat would make them both feel better, and kickstart Sahota’s defrost cycle.

“Crazy weather we’ve been having, huh?” Benji said, easing in the lockpick. A darting glance up told him Sahota was choosing to ignore the remark. Benji chose to ignore his ignorance.

“That was a joke,” he said. “Y’know, because I haven’t been outside in a week.”

Again, no response, but he didn’t look particularly pissed off, so Benji continued.

“Is this what your normal routine is like? 90-10, indoor-outdoor—?”

“Are you not capable of doing this quietly?”

Benji paused in his lockpicking endeavors. “Well no, not really. If I do have an audience, it’s polite to engage in conversation.” And for a lot of his sleight-of-hand tricks, it was necessary, a subtle distraction. It wasn’t like he was capable of fooling Sahota in this particular instance, but it sure made him feel more comfortable. If only he could say the same for his trainer.

“If you insist on talking, at least talk about something useful.”

“Like what?”

“Walk me through your steps. Recite fun facts. I don’t fucking know.”

“Or,” Benji said, swapping out picks, “we could get to know each other. Do you have a favorite food? Mine’s pad thai.”

He didn’t know how it was even possible, but Sahota’s glare got even more glare-y. “No.”

“No favorite food?” Were spies just quakers with guns?

“No, I don’t want to get to know you.”

Okay, ouch. “Not even a little bit? I mean I’m 20% of your prize team—”

“You’re a criminal we chose at random for your skillset and proximity,” Sahota said evenly. “You aren’t special.”

Wow. This was going so great. “And I suppose you are?”

“I’ve been doing this job for twelve years.”

Benji huffed. “Well I’ve been stealing and shit for like, ten. Can’t we agree that we’re both special in wholly unique ways?”

Sahota didn’t reply. Benji let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, and set his attention back on the lockbox. He was almost tempted to try on the silence; the icy friend-rejecting attitude the other man wore so easily. But… in for a penny, in for a pound.

“How’d you get started on the job anyway?” he asked. “I doubt there’s many ‘help wanted’ signs out there for this gig.”

“I was recruited in the field,” Sahota answered after a pause.

“Recruited in the field,” Benji repeated. “Is that like, spy code for ‘recommended by a family member’, or..?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Were you recruited by Vic?”

“Yes.”

“So what, he just saw you in the field and was like, ‘I like the cut of your jib, kid’?”

“Yes.”

Benji slumped forward on the table, careful not to jostle the lockpicks. “Okay. Cool.” The conversation piece was way harder to traverse than he would’ve thought. Sahota seemed hellishly determined to remain as frigid and distant as possible, but Benji had one final hail mary.

“Is the job like this a lot?”

Sahota didn’t look up. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely at the other man. “That. Y’know, violent. Sending you home with bruises.”

The trainer’s eyes closed, the corner of his mouth tightening. “What did I say about—?”

“I’m not insisting on anything,” Benji said quickly. “Obviously you can handle it and obviously you’re fine, but… I don’t know. You’re our teacher. Part of the team, technically. Aren’t we allowed to worry a little bit?”

When Sahota didn’t answer, Benji sighed, taking up the lock again. He’d tried. So much for his supposed ‘get along with everyone’ superpower. The two of them sat in silence for a good several minutes, nothing but the tiny click of lockpicks at work and the faint, occasional rustle of a paper being turned over or tucked away.

“Chana dal,” Sahota said, and Benji looked up from his work, squinting at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You asked for my favorite food. Chana dal.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one, that’s… the one with the lentils, right?”

“Have you never tried it?” To his surprise, Sahota actually glanced up at him with the question.

“I probably have,” Benji said. “I just don’t fully remember.” He put on as harmless an expression as he could. “Have you ever made it here? Not to shit on Vic’s cooking, but it’s kinda… bland.”

He swore that almost got a smile out of Sahota. Almost.

“Vic does what’s necessary,” he said. “I’ve made it before. Usually comes out decent, but nowhere near as good as…” He paused, dropping his eyes back to the papers, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “I’ve had better.”

“I probably haven’t,” Benji said, carefully breezing past whatever Sahota was trying to keep down. What had he been about to say? A name? A restaurant? Something he missed, probably, maybe a family member. Benji knew that ache well enough, but Sahota’s own wasn’t his business. Not yet.

“Maybe you could make it for the team one of these days?” he said, readjusting the lockpick. “For luck.”

“Maybe.”

Click. The tiny metallic sound rang out from the box in his palm, and Benji looked down at it in surprise.

“Shoot. I… I think I got it.”

Sahota leaned forward. “Really?”

Benji pressed his thumb into the top half of the little box, gently pushing it open. Inside, in a felt-lined compartment that looked like it was molded to be an exact fit, a micro-USB was nestled like a sleeping puppy.

“Quicker than I'd expected.” Sahota opened his palm, and Benji set the USB in it, box and all, freely wearing a proud smile.

Look at him go, using his skills for critical work and shit. “I told you I was special, didn't I?”

Sahota's expression shifted oh-so slightly, reflecting something that Benji could almost read as impressed if he squinted.

“I guess you did.”

The others filed back inside eventually; Joy and Jericho with what he described as an ‘outline of an outline’ of a plan to hack the system, and Kaius with new notes written in the margins of the list he’d been given. Harbor trudged in after him, just as quiet as he’d been the last few days. Benji could’ve sworn the guy had been louder at the start, almost like he was trying to impress the rest of them with a wannabe-punk attitude. Maybe it had just been first-day nerves.

Kaius stepped forward to lay his paper flat on the table.

“Our findings indicate every name on this list has some level of involvement with the Reality Cage,” he began. “Interns, security, research assistants, and the like. Of this group, one individual sticks out. Rebecca Finley.”

“What's so special about her?” Benji asked.

“From what we can tell, she's the only one who overtly operates outside the law. She's a supplier for rare metals, synthetic gasses, and other materials that may have been used to craft the Reality Cage. Of the listed individuals, she'd likely have the best idea of how to destroy it, and may well be familiar with the comings and goings of the Elysium Building.”

Benji shrugged. “You got me there.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Locate Finley. See if she'll cooperate.”

“If she doesn't?”

Kaius pressed his lips together. “We'll explore other options.”

On the far side of the room, Vic pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning on. “Finley doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to take a bribe.”

“She’s a direct line to Rotorworx's under-the-table technologies,” Kaius replied. “If we can’t bribe her, perhaps we can convince her in other ways.”

Vic rubbed his chin. “You could also kill her and steal whatever data she has on her person.”

Benji's mouth was suddenly dry. “Kill her? Like, kill her kill her?”

“I wasn't aware there was more than one variant,” Vic said, raising an eyebrow.

“Is… is that really necessary?”

“That method will get you answers far quicker than talking.”

Benji swallowed. “Okay, so maybe we should go after someone else?”

“Who else would you suggest, Ruebin?” Kaius asked, his eyes a level glare.

“Well, maybe no one. We've got the security info and the floorplans and the building. Isn't that enough?”

“You want to run in blind?”

“I want to not kill people.”

Kaius glanced at Vic briefly. “If that's our best option, it may be necessary. How do you plan on destroying it without insider intelligence? Hit it with a hammer?”

Something along those lines. “That usually works.”

“And just how many world-bending machines have you destroyed, Ruebin?”

“None, obviously, but I seriously don't think we need to—”

“Hey.” Joy held her hands in a time-out motion. “We can try and play it smart. Talk to Finley and figure out if she knows anything without revealing who we are”

Vic clicked his tongue. “And if she doesn't reveal anything herself, don't you think that's a waste of time?”

“I think it's worth a shot,” offered Benji, who really didn't want to have anything to do with the casual murder of someone.

Joy fixed her eyes on Kaius. “So? What's the plan? Do you have her address or something?”

“Or something,” Kaius murmured, tapping a line scrawled in pen on the paper. “A drop site. Supposedly where Finley picks up material requests from hopeful customers.”

And how exactly had Kaius figured that out? Seemed like a weird detail to find. Benji would've assumed a place of residence, or relatives, or even an officially listed job, especially if they'd had access to whatever database Sahota had promised.

“Material requests, hm?” Vic tapped at his chin. “Chances are you'd get more information from those than you'd ever be able to squeeze out of Finley.”

Kaius frowned. “I don't believe it's a literal drop site, just a meeting place.”

“Great,” Benji said through an exhale. “So let’s meet her there and talk.”

“We're on a tight schedule,” Vic said. “A fruitful interrogation is a drawn-out affair.”

“Whoa, I'm not even saying interrogate her," Benji said. "Why not just… y'know, have a conversation? Maybe she'll cooperate.”

“I can promise you, she won't,” Vic said.

“You don't know that for sure—”

“I do. She makes a living off of dangerous deals with dangerous people.” He slid the sheet of paper away from Kaius, glancing it over. “She won't give anything up.”

“But—”

“Kill her,” Vic cut him off. “Or move on. We don't have time to waste.” He set the paper back on the table and turned his back, leaving behind a roomful of uncomfortable silence.

Benji glanced around, looking for someone to make eye contact with, someone he could pin with a silent, this is crazy, right? Kaius was looking at the paper, Harbor was looking at his hands, and Jericho and Joy seemed to have their eyes fixed on the floor, expressions undecipherable. Finally, his gaze landed on Sahota.

“We're… we aren't actually going to kill her, are we?”

“Pursuing her as a lead isn't necessary,” Sahota replied. “At the end of the day, it's up to you to decide what intel you'll need for the mission. You can disregard the list completely if it suits you.”

Kaius frowned. “You bled for it.”

“I've bled for less. There are other options.”

Joy let out a heavy sigh. “It sounds like we'd get the most from Finley. Why can't we just talk? She doesn't need to know why we want to know anything. We can just make something up. Pretend to be customers or some shit.”

“You heard Vic.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not killing anyone.”

Jericho was already nodding. “What Vic doesn't know won't kill him, right?”

“You're underestimating what Vic is able to figure out,” Sahota said.

“At the end of the day, it's up to us to decide what we want, right?” Benji ventured. “You just said—”

“That doesn't mean going against orders,” Sahota shot back, moving to the table to collect the papers.

“Just let us talk to her,” Joy said.

“You think she'll listen? She'll see right through you.”

“Fine then.” Joy threw her hands up. “Maybe we will interrogate her.”

“It won't work.”

“Well you won't know that for sure if we don't try—”

“I do know for sure.” Sahota dropped the folder onto the table, looking like he was about to follow Vic out the door. “Like Vic said. You can kill her, or—”

“How do you know?” Joy stood. “You might be smart, and a ruthless operator, and all that shit, but you don't know all there is to know about us.”

Sahota stopped. “You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He turned around, sweeping the room with a cool gaze. Benji wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Sometimes he wished Joy wouldn't push the envelope. They'd probably be fine if they listened to Vic and just left it alone, they didn't need need Finley, did they?

“Show me what you've got,” Sahota said. “If you can prove me wrong, I'll let you try it. If you can't, I'll kill Finley myself.”

Joy frowned. “So, what? You want me to have a conversation with you?”

“No.” He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for something, and Benji couldn’t help but cringe at the next words that left his mouth.

“I want you to interrogate me.”

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@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday

#total$hit$how #aftermath of whump #angst #he's trying okay #writing #this is the first narrative chapter since the sahota drama blew up so hhhhhhh

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