Work Text:
When Spy woke, he was restrained. Opening his eyes, he was met with the scared blue eyes of Scout. He wasn't restrained, and there was a table with… some form of equipment on it. They were separated by a wall of glass, with a slot in the middle. Jer- Scout was already scared. It was obvious, even if he was trying to hide it. Spy noticed a TV in the corner of the scout's half of the room. It wasn't on, but Spy was worried about what it would be for.
“Scout”
“Y-yea?”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Do i fucking look like i know, numbnuts?”
The tv suddenly turned on. Spy noticed first, but Scout took a minute to catch on. On screen was a little puppet. Then it started talking.
“Hello Jeremy, I've noticed your… work. Your job as a mercenary has left much to be desired.”
“How the fuck do you know my name?! Spy what the fuck is going on?!”
The puppet continued, degrading the scout. Calling him a worthless lowlife among other things. Spy wondered where this guy got off. Spy didn't get along with his son on the best of days, but he at least is aware that Scout is a vital member of the team.
“You will notice on the table next to you are some knives, saws and the like. In order to be able to leave you need to take away your greatest gift. The ability to run. You will need to place your kneecaps on the scale. You have 90 minutes.”
Scout went paler than a ghost, eyes widening and filling with tears. Spy tried to get out of his restraints but couldn't. He needed to get Scout outta here. Who knows what Mannco would do if Scout could no longer run, it was he was hired for after all.
“Mon fils, they can't possibly expect you to…”
He was cut off by the timer starting. True to word, it was a timer for 90 minutes. The tears in Scout's eyes fell, hitching sobs leaving his throat.
“I can't, how can i…” He was hyperventilating now, completely panicked.
“Calm down mon lapin, you will survive this. You can survive anything Scout, you've been in war, you can survive some… mild torture”
“There isn't anything mild about this shit Spy! They want me to… to cut out my freaking kneecaps! Like, how can I do something like that to myself?”
“It will be hard, but you can do it. I had to cut off my fingers to escape in The War, a kneecap is different but you can do it.”
The timer was going down. While trying to get the scout to calm down and do what the voice wanted they wasted a good 30 minutes. Scout finally picked up one of the knives on the table. He sat down on the ground with his legs splayed in front of him. He rolled up his pants and with a shaky hand started to cut into his knee. Blood immediately started dripping down his knee, the pain intense. More intense than a bullet wound, or dying. Scout screamed, the adrenaline not kicking in. He tore his hand away and sobbed, not ready for any of this. After a while, Jeremy went in for another attempt, and got the knife wedged underneath the left cap after peeling off his skin. He kept sobbing as he tried to pop it off, failing the first two times. His hands are slick with blood, they keep slipping off the knife.
“Dad I can't, I can't do this.”
“Yes you can mon petit lapin, you have too. We don't know what will happen if you don't.”
Spy couldn't watch his son, his baby have to cripple himself. It was a type of torture in and of itself. His little rabbit wouldn't be able to run, let alone walk. It was heartbreaking. Jeremy was hired for his ability to run fast, if he couldn't run who knows what Mann co would do.
“But, dad, it's too much. I can't. I really can't”
Scout was still sobbing, tears flooding out of his eyes. He breathed deeply and grasped the knife with shaking hands. And lifted. The pain was unimaginable, and the scout let out a blood curdling scream. The cap came off with a wet pop. He shakily repeated the process. Peeling off the skin, wedging the knife under the cap and popping it off. He did it easier the second time, it only took two tries and it was only because he was weak from blood loss. Spy even shed some tears as well, sad for his baby. Scout tried to crawl to the scale, but could only manage to drag himself part way before his arms gave out.
“Come on mon lapin, you can do it.”
“Dad I can't, I lost too much blood. Oh god”
Jeremy was still sobbing. Still crying. He just wanted his dad to hold him, tell him everything was gonna be alright.
“Jeremy, it's going to be alright mon fils. I'm right here, god i'm so sorry mon petit.”
Scout eventually drug himself to the scale with 10 seconds remaining, and plopped his kneecaps onto the scale. A door swung open that neither really noticed before among the grime, and that bastard puppet rolled in. spewing things that now Jeremy understood life, and what it means. That he's worthy now. As if he wasn't already, that he didn't have a family that loved him, a boyfriend. That none of the people that know Jeremy just didn't matter. That Jeremy himself didn't matter. 10 minutes later the cops arrived and the scout was barely hanging on. They were obviously suspicious of the spy at first but Jeremy's cries of ‘dad’ put those suspicions at rest.
He was as much of a victim in jigsaw’s twisted game as Scout, even if his torture was pure psychological.
We end our story in the hospital. Spy standing vigilant at Scout’s bedside. Scout will never walk again, but he will always be loved.