Part I : Living Weapon X Tiny Caregiver (theyāre a badass to)
When Weapon first met Caregiver, he was sitting in slush, soaking wet from an earlier rain. He sat there muddy and bloody, like a deer carcass, while Caregiverās team surrounded him like vultures. They talked among themselves as Weapon sat tied to a pole at the center of their little meeting, debating the value of his fucking life, occasionally glancing at him without the slightest hint that they saw him as a person.
Then Caregiver pushed through the wall of men and women. He was shorter and skinnier than all of them and the first to truly look at Weapon. The lenses of his glasses reflected the cold blue light of the stake lamps behind him. Weapon immediately dropped his gaze and returned to waiting for the earth to swallow him.
Caregiver maintained eye contact for a moment before turning on his heels to bark orders that the other caregivers nonchalantly agreed to. They didnāt seem to care what he was going to do with their deer carcass.
It happened quickly. Weapon, still handcuffed, was walked toward a sleek black car and ordered by Caregiver to sit in the back while he held the door open. Weapon hesitated as he looked at Caregiver, who simply stared back with a furrowed brow and a cold, unreadable expression. The only movement he made was a quick adjustment of his glasses.
Weapon swallowed slowly, and Caregiverās expression softened ever so slightly as Weapon ducked into the back seat.
āBuckle up. Itās going to be a long ride,ā Caregiver said before shutting the door.
Then, a moment later, he quickly opened it again, causing Weapon to flinch.
āYou donāt have to pee, do you?ā Caregiver asked, leaning his head into the car.
Weapon said nothing beyond shaking his head no. Caregiver nodded, acknowledging the answer, then studied Weaponās face for a moment before closing the door again, this time more softly.