Chapter Text
When Gundham awoke, it was not to the sound of his hamsters, nor was it to the sound of his alarm clock. It was not due to the sounds of his many animals, which could occasionally be loud.
No, he woke up to an extreme pain in his arms and his back.
He tried to move them, but something prevented it. His arms, his shoulders, screamed in pain at the movement; so too, oddly enough, did his legs. The pain spurred his mind to high alert, alarm bubbling to his lips, and—
There was something in his mouth.
Bile rose in his throat, instinctively, but he focused to push it back down. Whatever it was, was also in his throat; if he vomited, he had no doubts that he would drown on his own puke. Whomever had done this to him likely did not care about his well-being.
He focused, trying to get a feel for his situation. He could not see—something was covering his eyes—and relied on his sense of hearing and touch to get a feel for what was going on. Except, he realized, there was something in his ears too. All he could hear was his heartrate, fear making it skyrocket and pound in his ears.
So, with touch, he tried to figure out what was going on.
Whatever it was that was in his mouth seemed to have straps that attached to something. The back of his head, perhaps? He was not brave enough to move and find out, especially with how the thing in his mouth was lodged in his throat. The things in his ears were probably just ear plugs, and the thing covering his eyes was… some sort of fabric, fastened down with what he could only assume was rope or some sort of strap.
The fabric was not his scarf, though. He was thankful for that, if only because it would not taint its importance.
He moved his arms again, focused through the immense pain to try and determine what was going on. It felt like something had strapped his arms together behind his back, fully extended. If he had to guess, it was rope, though without looking he could not be sure. To his alarm, his hands had started to go numb; even with his minimal experience with this kind of thing, it was obvious that that was not a good sign. His legs seemed to be bound in a similar fashion, ankles tied to his hands and forcing is body to bend backwards. It… did not paint a pretty picture. To top it off, even the movement caused by his breathing sent little sparks of pain through his limbs.
The pain almost made him miss the one of the scariest parts of all of this, though. There was a something in his ass. Whatever was up his ass, he could only pray that it was not someone’s… No. Whatever it was, it was not someone else’s dick. It was not shaped properly for that. As best he could tell, it was some kind of anal toy, most likely some sort of plug? He was not sure.
To top it all off, there was something on his dick. No, not just on; in his dick. He did not know what either thing was, nor what they would be called, but it most certainly was not anything good. As if anything in this situation was good or had a silver lining, but still. If he focused, he could feel some kind of… metal something, keeping his genitals close to his body. Whatever it was seemed to be designed to prevent him from getting hard, rather than something that was designed to do so. Which was strange—would you not want your captive to get hard, given this predicament?
A slight breeze touched his skin, fear shooting through his spine and forcing the smallest of sounds from his throat.
He was not wearing clothing.
Here he was, bound and naked, unable to protect himself. He was not even covered by a blanket or a tarp, was fully exposed. He did not know where he was, who had done this to him, anyone could walk in and see him like this. And if they chose to hurt him, he would not be able to escape—
He needed to calm down. Breathing too quickly jostled the… thing in his throat.
Even so, he could not stop the trembling, even with his body’s screams of aches and pains from even the smallest of movements. He had to calm down.
He was on tiling. Maybe concrete? He was probably on the floor, wherever he was. His cheek was wet; with the thing in his mouth and throat, he could not stop a puddle of drool from forming. Swallowing it down was out of the question, so the puddle would have to do. Even if it disgusted him.
Absently, he noted that wherever he was reeked of chemicals. Maybe he was in some sort of janitorial closet? Medical room?
Was he even still on Hope’s Peak campus?
No, he had to still be at Hope’s Peak. Needed to still be at Hope’s Peak. How else would someone be able to help him?
The thought that he was not there—was not where he would be found, was not where he could tell people to check on his pets, were his pets okay—drew another soft sound from his throat. He wanted to cry, needed to cry, but he was convinced that if he did then it would hurt. Every time the damn thing in his throat moved, he had to fight the urge to puke; he would not be able to cry and prevent himself from vomiting.
He combed through his memory, trying to find where or who had done this to him. He was drawing a blank—there was time missing, like his brain had stopped recording the footage, he knew—and found that his most recent memory was of spending time with Sonia. She would never do something like this to him, he was sure of it; besides, his memory cut off hallway through her discussing the rarer animals in her nation, so it was not her.
Maybe someone had slipped something into his drink? What time was it, anyways? How long had he been here, bound like this for the world to see? Had he had the time to ensure his Devas were taken care of, or were they trapped in here with him?
No, if they were in here, they most certainly would have tried to eat through the rope that was holding him—and even if they had not managed it, they would have been trying to get him help. Jum-P would have stayed with him, would have been smushed into his cheek.
Another breeze, this one stronger than the last, sent shivers down his spine.
Why was there a breeze in the first place? Was someone in this space with him?
Was someone watching him struggle? If they were, were they the person who trapped him in this place?
He did not know how long he laid there. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours; it was difficult to tell time, isolated like this. All he had to keep track of time was the occasional breeze; each time, he tensed up, and had to calm himself down. Fear, shame, anxiety made his stomach roll, sank its claws into his heart. He could not stop thoughts from swirling about in his mind, replaying like a broken record, only serving to scare him all the more.
What if he was no longer on Hope’s Peak?
What if his Devas were not safe?
What if he was never found?
What if he was found, but by someone who wanted to hurt him?
Another breeze. He felt himself tense up, but he was tired. His mind had spent long enough straining for new information, to try and feel if someone was there with him, watching him, or if he was alone; he could not be alert forever. He let himself make a soft whimpering noise, even as the sound jostled the thing in his mouth and felt himself slipping. Giving up. He could not protect himself, so maybe he should just… accept his predicament.
Why him, though? It did not make sense. Hope’s Peak had plenty of students, many of which were far more likable and attractive than himself, in his humble opinion. Unless whomever it was had picked him because he would not be missed?
That was not a thought he wanted to have.
Another whine, louder this time; he almost vomited with it, but he could not help it. It was genuinely unsafe for him to cry, even though the blindfold had gone damp aged ago even with his fraying self-control, and he had done the best he could to not move. His hands were totally numb, pins and needles traveling up his arms and into the ache of his shoulders.
Another breeze, the strongest one yet.
He tensed up again, weakly this time; maybe this time would be the last one that he got tense for. He was running out of energy, and the breeze had yet to bring someone with it.
Someone touched his face.
Renewed fear shot through his system like lightning. He tried to pull away, a weak noise pulled from his throat, limbs aching from the strain attempting to move away caused, but he did not care. He was convinced that whomever touched him was going to hurt him, and he did not want that. He did not have much energy left, but he would use it trying to protect himself even if it would not do much good.
The finger that touched him—it was a finger, his brain registered, it was warm and fleshy and his nose detected the smell of WD-40 and some kind of perfume—moved to the side of his head. And suddenly, he could hear.
“—thes. Gundham, you with us?” He let out a quiet groan, even as he tensed up. He knew that voice. He knew that voice.
It was fitting, that Kazuichi found him here like this.
“Okay, good. Sonia’s here with me, she’s looking to see if she can’t find your clothes or a blanket or something.” Relief. Sonia most certainly did not do this to him; if she was here, then Kazuichi must not have, either. Kazuichi mus have noticed him relaxing, because a hand was slid under his head, lifting it slightly and thumbing away some of the drool stuck to his cheek. Somehow, his head being lifted helped him to breath; it must have straightened his airway, giving his head and neck some much-needed support.
“I’m gonna take the blindfold off, okay?” He let out another sound, trying to make it sound affirmative. Evidently, it was enough, as the darkness was replaced with a blinding light.
He blinked, trying to focus his vision. Kazuichi was directly in front of him, which was obvious by the yellow jumpsuit even if his eyes refused to focus. Something moved in his peripheral, and once his vision focused, he could see that it was Sonia.
He was in a janitorial closet, if the various bottles of bleach, brooms, mops, and other cleaning materials were anything to go by. The door, which was behind Kazuichi, was shut; thank god his friends (well, Sonia was his friend, he was unsure where he stood with Kazuichi) had had the forethought to try and protect his modesty from the others in the school.
And then his brain registered the sheer volume of objects on the floor around him. There was Kazuichi’s toolbox, plus what looked like a spare with the lid open. What alarmed him was not the toolbox; it was the various floggers, paddles, and whips that were scattered all over the floor. Whomever had done this to him had wanted him to get hurt.
He focused on not vomiting.
“There ya go.” Kazuichi kept his voice quiet, his hands still. It was… uncharacteristic of the Tamer of Automatons, and yet he found himself thankful for the calm. Even from here, he could see the tremor in Sonia’s hands.
“I’m gonna get the thing out of your mouth, but then I’m goin’ to have to put your head down to deal with your arms and legs. Sound good? No, don’t make a sound, I know it hurts, just… Move your eyes like you’re noddin’ or shakin’ your head.” How Kazuichi knew that, he did not know.
He looked up, then down; Kazuichi got to work.
Carefully, the hand under his head was replaced with a leg—he wanted to protest, since his drool puddle must feel gross, but he could not speak even if he wanted to—and steady hands found the back of his head. He felt something unclasp, and then Kazuichi’s hands were at his mouth.
“Alright. This is going to suck, but I need you to follow my directions. When I pull this out, you’re goin’ to want to puke. You need to wait until it’s all the way out before you do, otherwise you’re going to choke on your own puke. It’s goin’ to hurt because your throat’s probably dry as fuck, so I’ll have to take it out slowly so I don’t accidentally tear somethin’. You understand all that?”
He just wanted it out. He could do what was asked of him, so long as that thing was no longer keeping his mouth open.
“I found his clothes—they’re his pajamas, I think.” Sonia spoke up somewhere behind him as Kazuichi began the process of removing the gag. “His dorm room key is here, too.”
“Well, that’s good.” The Ultimate Mechanic’s eyes never left him nor the gag, a silent focus he had only ever seen applied to projects and fixing broken machines. “Can you start picking up all the shit on the floor and chucking it into the toolbox?”
“Why?” Sonia asked the question he had. The gag was a fourth of the way out now, probably.
His throat burned.
He did not care.
“We need to hold onto it in case he wants to press charges against whoever did this to him. It’s also the only container in this room that I can lock.” Sonia did not ask questions after that. The duo worked quietly; Sonia, collecting the items on the floor (and there had been more behind him, which once he saw made his blood turn to ice), and Kazuichi, careful fingers freeing the gag from his mouth.
He got a good look at it once it was free, and bile rose in his abused throat. It was large and long, the base thicker than the tip. Its straps were long and thin, designed to be fastened around the head. It had been designed to be shoved down a throat, to gag so effectively that sound could not get out. There had been some sort of nose flap, and he found himself thanking whatever deity had spared him the fate of having that attached to him as well.
The sound of the gag clattering into the toolbox was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.
“There we go.” Kazuichi ran fingers through his hair, like he was a startled animal that needed to be calmed. “You did a great job. Once Sonia is done picking up the stuff, I can get started on your arms, alright.”
“M’kay.” The effort of speaking was immense, but his heart soared at finally being able to do so. He was no longer in danger, if he needed to puke or if he needed to cry. His throat was on fire, and speaking made his eyes water, but he could communicate.
“Awesome. Sonia,” Kazuichi’s gaze left him, instead turning to look at his friend. “Do you think you could grab a bucket when you’re done?”
“Of course.”
The fingers combing themselves through his hair helped him to relax, if only slightly. Breathing still sent waves of pain through him, and now that the gag was out it was the only thing he could focus on, but he knew he was safe. Could trust Sonia and Kazuichi.
Had to trust them.
Sonia returned with a bucket, and Kazuichi’s fingers stilled in his hair.
“Gundham, I’m gonna move your head so that Sonia can hold it instead. Is that okay?” Rather than speak, he nodded—and winced, the angle his head had been at made his neck stiff—and the swap happened. Sonia’s skirt felt soft on his cheek, and her fingers carded through his hair. He felt her hands shake, but she put on a brave face for him.
His thoughts were interrupted by Kazuichi digging through the other toolbox, the one that actually had tools, before a pair of large scissors were freed from it.
“I’m going to have to cut you out of that.” Kazuichi’s voice was calm, somehow, even now. “I’m gonna talk to you the whole time, so that you know what I’m doing, but we don’t have the time to try and untie you the usual way.”
“Why?” As much as she tried, he could hear the tremor in her voice. The barely concealed fear and concern.
Why was Kazuichi able to stay so calm?
“He’s running out of blood flow in his hands and his arms.” As he spoke, he moved; Gundham felt, rather than saw, the Ultimate Mechanic settle down behind him. “I need to do this quickly so that there’s no lasting nerve damage.”
And, with a snipping sound, the rope connecting his arms to his legs was severed.
Instinctively, he curled his legs to his chest, stretching out his aching back. He did not care that the movement jostled the plug in his ass, that his lower legs were bound to his upper legs, that the movement made his nausea worse.
He registered the sounds of the scissors, felt the ropes slide off his arms, but didn’t move them until the last of it had been cut away.
With the help of Sonia and Kazuichi’s feather-light touches, he ended up half-upright, hands in his lap while leaning heavily on Sonia. He did not want to jostle the plug, and his legs were still tied together.
He did not look at his hands; he did not want to see how bad they had been hurt.
Still, when Kazuichi took one of his arms and Sonia took the other, began to rub it, massage it, ease the blood through his limb with immense care and concern, he found himself looking regardless.
Bruises crisscrossed his arms where the ropes had been, his wrists the worst of them all. His hands had begun to turn a purplish blue; somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled that anything worse than that would result in losing the limb. He tried to help, but his hands were still numb and everything else hurt. It took his focus to not pull away, even as tears began to trace their way down his cheeks.
He stopped looking, after that. He turned his head away, resting his forehead on Sonia’s cheek. He could focus on not crying, or he could focus on not pulling his limbs away from the people who were trying to help him; he knew which one was more important.
“Hey, you’re doin’ great, man. Just gotta free your legs an’ do the other two things, and then we can sort out gettin’ you dressed and out of here.” He nodded weakly, finally able to feel his hands when Kazuichi let go of his, setting it carefully in his lap. He watched, this time, as the ropes were cut and his legs were freed. They were in better shape than his arms and legs, but Kazuichi still made sure to rub the blood back into the limbs before turning his attention to the remaining problems.
“Which do you want me to take care of first?” He blinked, mind processing the question. He got to pick what got dealt with first? He got to have a choice?
No, these were his friends. He got to have choices with them, was safe with them.
Both the plug and the things on and in his dick were beyond humiliating, but the fact that he needed help to get them off hurt the most. But he wanted them gone, so beyond gone that he did not care how humiliating it was. He could feel humiliated later.
He gestured with his hand, doing his best to point at the stuff on his dick. He hoped the plug would be easier, but he only wanted to have to spread his legs once.
Kazuichi dug for some tools in his toolbox—it looked like pliers, but had a sharper edge, and also some small-looking scissors—before ducking in to look at the handiwork of the thing on his dick.
“Man, whoever did this did a number on you.” He snorted; no shit they did.
He tensed up, feeling a hand touch the inside of his leg.
“Easy, man. I need to see what’s going on there better, alright? I’m not goin’ to hurt you, I promise.” He looked over at that, his grey eyes meeting pink. He had never seen the mechanic look so serious before, even when someone had gone in and tried to sabotage a very delicate build.
It was a promise that he could trust, a promise that would be kept.
Carefully, he tried and failed to not wince as he spread his legs, allowing Kazuichi the access needed to help him.
He did not watch, even when hands carefully grabbed the thing on him and lifted, though the action earned a faint hiss of pain from him; the thing inside his dick had moved, and that had hurt far more than he thought it would.
The hiss made the mechanic pause, before carefully lowering and letting go of the metal thing on him. Something cold touched his stomach, and a murmured apology answered his twitch at the touch. There was the faint sound of the lock holding the metal thing on him breaking, and the front of the metal thing was carefully removed. The base would take more effort to remove, but now the attention was on the… thing in his dick.
“… Is that a sounding rod?” Kazuichi seemed surprised, but his own surprise was that the mechanic knew what the thing was called in the first place. “You know what, don’t answer that. I’m… going to have to touch your dick to get that out. Is that okay, or would you rather wait—”
“Take it out.” It came out sounding more like a whine than anything else, but the mechanic got the message. Carefully, gently, a hand wrapped around him. Pulled the skin down, and fingertips carefully grasped the head of the thin metal.
He hated this.
Slowly, carefully, the thin strip of metal was removed; he was shaking by the end of it.
The hand wrapped around him let him go, carefully removing the base piece of the other metal thing before gently closed his legs for him.
His ears registered the faint clink of metal being tossed in the tool case with all the other things that had been used to hurt him.
He wanted to be done. Wanted to go curl up in a hole and never wake up, wanted to do so after he ensured his Devas would be safe.
There was still one more thing that had to be removed.
“Alright. You hold tight; I can get this out from here. It’s not going to feel good, and it’s probably going to hurt. I can wait to pull this out until I grab some lube or something to make it suck less, or I can pull it out now. It’s up to you.”
Shakily, he grabbed hold of one of Sonia’s hands with one of his own. The other, he reached out, claiming one of Kazuichi’s.
He was scared, more than anything else. He did not know who had done this to him, or why they had done this to him, but he wanted the damn thing out more than he cared about it hurting.
“Out.”
Kazuichi gave his hand a squeeze, and began to work.
“You squeeze my hand as hard as you need.”
“Mine, as well.”
And began to pull.
It hurt, the pulling, burned like nothing he had ever felt before. Whatever it was inside of him, it was incredibly wide; already, he was holding onto the hands like his life depended on it.
“I need you to relax, Gundham. As much as you can. The more relaxed you are, the less this will hurt.”
He tried, he really did. The pain never changed. Got worse, as the mechanic freed more of the plug from him.
And it was too much.
And he was about to plead for them to stop.
And the thickest part slid out of him, and while it still hurt it was not nearly as bad.
The rest went soon after, Kazuichi murmuring soft praises for how brave he had been. Sonia murmured much the same, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
The worst of it was over.
“Here, let’s get you out of here.” Kazuichi placed his hand in Sonia’s before standing, going to where he could only assume his clothing was. “We’ll stick you in my room for the time being. Sonia’ll go get your hamsters once you’re in there.”
Which… made an odd amount of sense. Whomever had put him here would probably want to check up on him. If he was not in his own dorm room, then Sonia’s would be the next one to check. No-one would ever think to check Kazuichi’s room.
Based on the look Sonia had on her face, he could only assume that she had come to the same conclusion.
He watched Kazuichi come back, bile rising in his throat. Those were his pajamas, sure, but he had worn those. Worn them when he had been taken here. He felt his eyes sting, felt his cheeks get wet
He wanted to burn them.
“Here, I know you don’t want to wear these, but you need to put them on. At least, until we’re in my dorm room; I should have some spare stuff you can swap to.”
He knew Kazuichi was right, he really did.
But the thought of putting that clothing on made his skin crawl far more than the realization that he was fully naked in front of other people did.
The thought must have been visible, because Kazuichi was gently thumbing away some tears from his face.
“We can burn them as soon as you want, but we have to get you somewhere safe first. Okay?”
He nodded.
He did not recall the journey to Kazuichi’s dorm very well. His memory was spotty. He might have passed out, but when he came to, he was being set down on Kazuichi’s bed.
“Hey, welcome back.” The mechanic offered him a smile, something to soothe his frazzled mind. “Don’t know how much of that trip you remember, but Sonia’s going to grab you your hamsters and other clothes. If you still want to strip, I can grab you a blanket to wrap yourself in while we wait.”
Slowly, carefully, he sat up. It took a monumental effort—his arms shook, his shoulders screamed in pain—but he managed it nonetheless.
A water bottle found its way in front of him (it was Kazuichi who grabbed it, from the minifridge that everyone knew about but pretended they did not) and he drank from it. It felt good on his throat, but it would take several days before speaking was a viable and pain-free option.
A blanket found its way across his shoulders, its warmth welcome and inviting. He almost leaned into it, before his sluggish mind realized that leaning into a blanket meant that he would fall backwards.
Something sturdy was placed into his lap. It was white and had a marker and a napkin on top of it.
It took him longer than he was willing to admit to realize that it was a whiteboard so that he could communicate without needing to stress his already weakened vocal cords.
“I’m sure you have questions for me, so I figured this would be easier than you tryin’ to ask verbally an’ shit.” He looked up, offering the smallest of smiles as Kazuichi ran a hand through pink, disheveled hair. He found himself wishing that that hand was in his hair, instead. It had felt… nice, earlier.
Instead, he pulled the cap off the marker, and began to write.
Why?
“Why what? I’m sorry, I’m goin’ to need you to be clearer.” He frowned, letting out a soft sigh, before clarifying his question.
Why help?
“You’re my friend, of course I’m going to help.” Kazuichi was… hiding something. He did not like that. So he underlined his question, gave the other a pointed look.
He needed an answer.
The mechanic sighed, claiming a seat next to him on the bed. Instinctively, he leaned in to be held; his wish was granted as soon as he leaned in.
“… I’ve dealt with what you’ve just gone through before. Not exactly what you’ve just dealt with, but I know what it feels like. I’d rather not get into it right now, but I’d be more than happy to talk to you about it later.” He nodded, then erased his question. Guilt ate at him, almost spilled over into tears. Instead, he wrote.
Sorry.
“It’s fine.” It was not fine. “Don’t write that it’s not fine—I mean it. I’m not going to lie to you right now, or ever. It’s genuinely okay.”
Is it why you are so calm?
“Partially, yeah. The other part of that is that I can, on occasion, set my shit aside to focus on something else. Me panicking wouldn’t have helped at all. Besides, I can and probably will freak out later.”
A knock on the door made him tense up; the whiteboard was abandoned in favor of grabbing the front of Kazuichi’s jumpsuit like a lifeline. What if it was the person who had hurt him? What if it was someone who was angry at Kazuichi and Sonia for saving him? What if—
“Hey, it’s probably Sonia. I need to get up and go check, but I’ll be right back. Okay?”
No, it Was Not Okay.
But, if it was Sonia, then she needed to come back in so that she would be safe.
He let go, shaky hands entwining themselves into the fabric of the blanket. Kazuichi sat him up before going to answer the door.
Sonia was ushered inside, and the door was shut, locked, and bolted.
He was Safe.
Sonia was Safe.
And Kazuichi was Safe.
To his word, Kazuichi reclaimed the seat next to him after retrieving the whiteboard once the door was locked. Sonia claimed a spot on his other side, his scarf wrapped around her neck. The squeaks of his Devas explained why she wore the scarf—they would never accept being carried in any kind of bag, let alone the duffel she had come with—and offloaded the duffel bag. It held his usual boots and his jacket, as well as several variations of his jeans and shirt combination, and had brought his toothbrush. She had also thought to grab his favorite sweatpants, hoodie, and t-shirt.
“I’ll get these ready for you to change into.” Sonia spoke, patting his favorite clothing as she set his Devas on top of the bed. “Kazuichi mentioned that you might want to shower before you put these on, though.”
He scribbled on the whiteboard, tilting it for her to see once he had finished.
Don’t want help.
“Of course.” Sonia smiled wide, helped him to relax despite the given situation. “Do you mind if we keep the door cracked open, just in case?”
I do not mind.
He drifted off again. His mind did not want to tether itself down, did not wish to remain in the moment.
But his hamsters needed to be fed, and what if they ran away—
“Hey. You’re spiraling.” Kazuichi murmured, hand gently squeezing his shoulder. “Your hamsters are goin’ to be fine—I bought a tank for them a week ago, since you’d mentioned not wantin’ to leave and come back to keep them on a feedin’ schedule. It’s definitely not big enough to be a long-term thing, but it’ll work for now. I just gotta pull the thing out.”
Hesitantly, he nodded.
Can I see the thank?
“Sure thing. Before or after your shower?”
Before.
“Alright. You’re gonna have to let me get up again, though.” He shook his head—he would much prefer it if Kazuichi just stayed there and held him forever.
“It’s a bit too heavy for Sonia to carry. I can show you after the shower, but before we put the hamsters in it, if you don’t want me to get up yet?”
Devas.
Kazuichi laughed at that, giving him a gentle squeeze that made his head feel light. The return to normalcy felt amazing, like what had happened to him would not weight him down forever.
“Whatever you say, Hamster-Chan. I can show you the tank before we put the devas in but after your shower, then.”
It took him a few minutes before he was ready to stand, to try and shower. Sonia and Kazuichi helped him stand, helped him ditch the clothing that he wanted to burn, and ushered him into the shower. He was thankful that he was, in fact, still capable of standing, even if it was through sheer force of will; the door was still open a crack, but that was okay. An acceptable action, given that his legs threatened to buckle under him.
There was a discussion going on in the other room, but his brain would not let him focus on it. He needed to get clean, to feel clean; he had already scrubbed every inch of himself pink, but he would be damned if he was not going to be double and triple sure that everything was truly clean.
It was only when his arms, legs, back, and face began to sting that he realized he had gone a bit too far. If the scratches were any indication, they would leave a mark and sting for a week, maybe more.
Which was, of course, when Kazuichi poked his head in to make sure he was okay.
He thought the mechanic would be angry with him, would startle and yell at him for practically clawing his skin off.
What he did not expect was a soft sigh and a few rolls of bandaging to be placed on the countertop.
Somehow, that was worse. Was Kazuichi disappointed in him? Would he be sent away once he had been patched up?
“Hey, you about done?” He blinked, brain registering the words. Rather than respond, he shut off the water.
A soft, fluffy towel was wrapped around his shoulders, and—
His brain stopped recording again. He became alert again as his favorite clothing was pulled onto him, over fresh bandaging. He was touched—Kazuichi had wound the bandaging longer than needed around his scar-littered arm, tying it off just the way he liked it—and was tucked into a bed.
He gave his friends a questioning look; the sheets were fresh.
“Yeah, changed the sheets while you were showering. The old ones had been on there for, like, a month, so… The change was definitely needed.” And yet, had the sheets not been fresh when he had first arrived?
He could not remember. They must have been, though, since there had not been crumbs or anything on it….
“Anyways, we got the tank out. We set it up with some food and water; I know its technically not on their feeding schedule, but I think we can make an exception today if that’s all right with you?”
The whiteboard was placed back into his hands, along with the marker. Usually, he would not dare take them off of their schedule, but today was definitely a day that could count for an exception.
Feed now. Feed less at usual time. They have water?
“Sounds good! Here, the tank’s behind you, so—” He tuned out the rest of what Kazuichi was saying, instead turning to look at it.
It was small, definitely not the correct size to permanently house his Devas. But it had the correct amount of digging material in it, had plenty of hides, and had an adequate food bowl. Even the hanging water bottle had been remembered and was filled to the brim. His Devas, he noticed, were not there; the soft fluffiness worming itself under his fingertips answered that question.
Sonia popped in front of him, concern clearly written on her face. He nodded, even as the world went blurry.
The tank was perfect for a temporary home.
And so, as his Devas were carefully placed in the tank, and as the hands of his friends carefully pulled him under the covers and held him close, he finally let himself have the cry he had been saving since he had first woken up. It might take some time, especially with whomever did this to him still out and about, but…
It would be okay.