A Call For Help
Masterlist
cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, recovering whumpee, Institutionalized slavery, brainwashed/conditioned whumpee, coarse language, creepy whumper, alcohol use, memory loss/amnesia
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The words were flying right over her head, jumbling up in a throbbing ache either from her training or the loud, bumping music swirling around her. She used to read all the damn time, and now she couldn’t even string a sentence together. Agnes grit her teeth, continuing.
Sh- she… at the… no… I have no fucking idea what that word is.
Slamming the book shut, she threw it to the side carelessly. How could everyone else seem to do it so easily?
Agnes settled her sights over the maze that was the bar, filled with the sounds of people. Too loud, she thought, yet didn’t make a single move to leave. She knew a good lot of the people in said maze, a lot for the same reason they knew her. It was never difficult for a pet to recognize another pet.
Agnes made eye contact with a woman making her way to the counter, tall and slender, who eventually looped around the open chair beside her.
“Hey, there.” Grazing a hand over Agnes’ back, the woman slunk her a grin. “You having a good night?” She had long, dark hair, and a face caked with precisely done makeup.
“It’s going alright.” Agnes shrugged. She looked the opposite, hair unbrushed and face bare.
Taking a seat beside her, the woman’s bracelets jingled along with her movement. “Could be better with a drink, I assume.” She dipped a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip.
“I’m okay.” Agnes told her, as casually as possible. She didn’t really know why she was even there. “Thanks, though.”
“So you come to a bar and you’re not even gonna drink?” She laughed, a kind of sting to the ears. Hearty and low. Agnes joined in, weak and faked. Easy, though. “C’mon, don’t be a buzzkill. It’s on me.” Before Agnes could refuse - not that she would’ve even had the guts - the woman had already ordered them both something. “I’m Carter, by the way.”
“Agnes.”
“That’s like-,” again she laughed, but this time it felt more so at her than with her. Kind of like- “What an old lady name you got there.”
Agnes dipped her head, allowing herself to look through her lashes, twisting her abdomen to face the other woman. Exactly like with- “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”
“Ah.” The woman - Carter - looked to find the bartender - Derrick, his name was, Agnes knew him well - handing her their drinks. “Here’s yours, and mine.”
Agnes took the cup with both hands, tapping it with her fingers. A touch of cold. “Thanks. You really didn’t have to.” She failed to catch what Carter had ordered, but didn’t really care.
Carter smiled, stealing a sip out of her cup. Agnes watched the bob of her throat. “Drink up, pretty girl.”
Drink up, pretty pet.
Maybe… one drink couldn’t hurt. She was going to need it if she couldn’t find a way to see herself out of this conversation. She took a swig, bitterness filling up her mouth and down her caving throat.
“What’s that?” Carter gestured to her book, discarded beside her.
She chuckled, awkwardly, hiding it with her shoulder. “Just a book I’ve been reading.”
“Here?” Carter made a face, a scrunch of her expression with an amused smile. “That’s pretty weird.”
Discreetly Agnes slipped it back into her bag, a cross body big enough to fit her most important belongings. “Yeah, I know.”
“To each their own, I guess.” She didn’t say it like she really meant it. “You’re nervous, I can tell,” She muttered, bumping Agnes’ drink with a gentle nudge, “drink a little more. It’ll make you feel better.”
She said it like Agnes wouldn’t fucking know that, as if she didn’t come here at least like a twice a fucking week. Agnes, obedient as ever, took another gulp.
“Good girl.” She purred under her breath, and Agnes almost spit before she could swallow, a dribble slinking out of her pursed lips. Carter looked as if that was the most normal thing she’d said all night. “What?”
Agnes swallowed the burn. “Nothing. Sorry.”
Carter sat in a way that made sure her body was facing Agnes’. “You’re very gorgeous, y’know.”
“Me?” Agnes huffed a laugh, as if she disagreed. How could she when that was why she was made a romantic? “You’re joking.”
“Nope, I’m serious. And, if you’d let me,” she licked her lips, keening in, “I’d love to see more of that beauty.”
“Oh, um-,” Agnes staggered back, “Sorry, but I’d rather not… tonight. Maybe another time.”
A yank of her arm, and she was level with Carter’s shoulder.
“Oh, you can’t fool me, pretty thing. I know what you are, okay?” She whispered, lips smacking in Agnes’ ear. She froze, utterly still. “No more dancing around it honey, everyone can tell you’re one of them.” Carter leaned back, resting her head on her knuckles. “You’re not a very good actor… or, well, maybe you were just trained so good you can’t help but show it.”
Agnes’ mouth moved, so many words dying right in her throat. She hesitated. “I’m not-,”
“Hush, okay? You’re prettier when you’re not talking.” She tisked, trailing a thumb over Agnes’ lips and down to hold her chin. “No one likes a smartass slut.”
It’s okay, Roxy, you don’t need to speak. No one wants to hear a dummy like you talk, anyways.
“But, I mean,” her arm brushed Agnes’, “Reading? In a bar? I’m surprised it’s not a kids book. I know you guys can’t read very well, if at all.” Again, she bit her lip, inspecting her prey. “You’re definitely not a smart one, I can just tell.”
“Stop-,”
She held Agnes’ wrist with an iron grip. “Do you really want to play this game with me? I could call up a couple handlers right now to take you off my hands. A refurb is what they’d call you then, right?”
“I-,”
“Come back home with me, baby. Just one night, okay? I bet it’s practically routine for you.” Carter leaned in ever so closer, a hand pressing to Agnes’ thigh. “Then I’ll leave you on your way.”
“I don’t-,” In, and out. Her lips firmed. “No thanks. Like I said, maybe another time.”
“Well you’re just a waste of space, aren’t you? A romantic who doesn’t want to fuck?” Her hand brushed Agnes’ cheek. She yanked away. “That’s crazy.”
She turned Agnes’ wrist to the inside of her arm, nudging up the bracelet that covered her scar. “Please- let go of me.”
“I will if you give me your number.” Carter cocked her head. “I won’t call anyone, if you do, either.”
“Wh- whatever. Fine.” The hold on her wrist released as Carter reached for her phone, allowing Agnes to provide her a contact.
“See ya, pretty girl.” She called as Agnes grabbed her things, making her way out as fast as possible.
Pushing her way through the crowd was the hardest part, through the noise and the lump in her chest, but the chill of the outside smacked her across the face as she finally left. Taking a sharp, almost immediate turn, she stumbled into an alleyway, phone in hand.
The light was bright on her face, blinding her for a moment before her vision settled. Putting in her passcode - Isaac’s birthday - she looked for Isaac’s contact, which was a bit tougher when you weren’t great at reading.
Agnes had her number saved, knew what her name looked like, but never really used it. Not unless she needed to.
She was such a dick.
She pressed the call button, biting her nail with every next ring.
“Hello?” Someone answered with a click, a drowsy rasp sticking to their voice.
Agnes sipped in a shaky breath. “…Isaac?” She whispered, fighting a sob.
It was obvious in her voice, as she could practically see Isaac shooting to her feet.“Agnes? What is it?” Her words were trembling then, as much as the drowsiness overshadowed that. “Are you okay?”
“N- no.”
“What do you need? What can I do? Should I come pick you up?”
Agnes swallowed. “Yes, please.”
“I’ll be right there. Send me your location.”
“Okay.” Swift, one nail in her mouth and the others typing, she did just as she was told.
She heard the jingle of Isaac grabbing her keys. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No… I’m okay.” She hid the sob in the back of her mouth well. “Just get here as fast as you can. Please.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm. I’ll be fine.”
Isaac sighed, but relented. “Okay. See you soon. Love you.”
“Bye.” Instantly as the call ended, her eyes clouded, a wail clawing up from her throat.
Agnes counted down the minutes it took her to get there, phone more near death with every check. A little over twenty minutes.
The car door swung open as they pulled up, the car not even stopped, someone jumping out and running at her. She flinched back, for a second seeing something different, something that made her head burn with white. They were here for her they were fucking here, everything she’d built was over, before she realized who it was.
“Oh! Uh, hey, Wesley.” He grabbed her by the abdomen, pulling her in tight.
“Hi.” He mumbled, face scrunched into her sweatshirt.
The window rolled down, Isaac sticking her head out from in the drivers seat. “Sorry. He caught me leaving and wouldn’t leave me alone until I let him come with.” Agnes patted him on the head, hugging him back. “Got pretty worried when I said I was going to get you.”
“Nothing to worry about, man. Everything’s all good.” She mumbled to him, brushing his bangs out from his eyes. He didn’t respond.
She looped her hand into his, leading him back to the car and opening the door to the passenger seat.
“So what happened?” Isaac was tired, heavy bags under her eyes, but when was she not?
“It…,” her gaze shifted from Isaac to Wesley, then back to Isaac. “It’s nothing. Just a rough night.”
“Mm.” Isaac didn’t believe her. Agnes didn’t blame her.
“Are you, um, gonna sleep over? Agnes?” Wesley asked, piping up from the back seat, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“Uh…,” Isaac cast her the smallest of a glance. She was wondering, too. “Sure.”
“Really?” He grew a smile, wide and smooshing his cheeks. “Can you stay tomorrow? Do stuff with me? Can I show you my drawings?” He spit off rapid fire questions, radiating excitement.
Her face, red rimmed and tear stained, softened. Maybe her night wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Whatever you want, Wes.”
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Masterlist
Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping
@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba
@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing
@whump-till-ya-jump
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