Amateur fighter Marlow Lancaster and aspiring artist Lorenzo Whitlock have nothing in common, until they both arrive at WRU and become bonded to each other, more than any force could drive them apart.
CWs for the series (check each post for individual): pet whump, BBU, box boy universe, lady whump, whumpees in love
Writings under the cut.
Pre-WRU:
Lorenzo Whitlock:
Bahamas (collab with Sara)
Failure of a Whitlock
Marlow Lancaster:
Home Sweet Hell: 1 // 2
There Were More
The First Killing
Not So Proud
Kyle
You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide // Not Enough
690236 and 728501 (Facility Era):
Guard Dog 501:
728501 Intake
501′s Profiling
Cas and the Lamb: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // Masterlist -- collab with @painful-pooch
Neck Day
Positive Reinforcement
[coming soon!]
Too Late to Beg
Romantics 236 and 501:
690236 Intake
New Training (just 501)
Dilemma
Set Up to Fail (discussion about the whumpees)
Not Today, Satan
Decision (NSFW) // The Rookie
Leo Finch’s Failure: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4
Sunny + Star:
Year One:
Special Delivery // Hunter’s House Rules
Regardless
Good Pet. Bad Pet.
Star Tries to Hurt Sunny // The Pairing Knife // The Ledge
Yours, Sir (NSFW)
Losing the Game
On the Altar (NSFW) // After the Altar
Breathe, Sunny
Flu Season
Christmas Lights // Interlude // Sugar and Spice and Nothing Nice (NSFW)
Christmas Eve
You Are Home // Let Me See
Year Two:
Fetch
Open (NSFW)
She Said She’s Sorry
Not Worthy, But Good Enough for Now
Storage
She Can Take It // Nurse Carson (NSFW)
Disgrace
Light My Fire
Wishes
Falling Star // Pieces of Star // Walking on Hind Legs
Year Three:
Introductions
The Pet Left Alone
Weak
All Alone
Just A Dream (NSFW)
All the Light is Gone
Lost in the Dark
Goodbye For Now
Escape:
Rain
Safehouse, Night One
To Dream
Recovery AU:
Stress Reliever (NSFW) // Once a Romantic, Always a Romantic (NSFW)
Asks:
Sunny disobeys Sir // 501′s Romantic Training (NSFW) // Sunny and Star take a Bath // Sunny and Sir in Bed (NSFW) // Star and the Pillory (NSFW) // Star’s Feelings on Escaping // Ideas on What Would Break the Pets // Hunter’s Secret // Sunny Breaks a Rule (Quietly) (NSFW) // Sunny Stands Up to Sir // Star Stands in the Rain
CW: facility whump, pet whump, BBU, brainwashing-ish?, stripping down to underclothes (nonsexy), shock torture, noncon drugging, treating a handler like a trainee, workplace abuse
***
His knees are aching, but it’s nothing compared to how heavy his body feels from being humiliated like that.
Leo rises and sticks by Greco’s side like an obedient little puppy. They start walking down the hallway heading for the training rooms.
“Need any water?” Greco asks. “The green stuff is rough as shit on the body. You’ll get dehydrated quickly.”
“Um, no. I’m fine.” All of that unimaginable agony he assumed 501 was about to face is going to be his burden soon.
They stop a few doors down from where the incident happened, and Greco opens the door and steps in. “Come on.”
Leo tentatively follows.
With the door shut, Greco immediately knocks Leo to his knees with the force of a bull. “Strip.”
Leo frowns.
“Down to your boxers and undershirt. Come on, trainee. Don’t make me ask again. You’ll regret it.”
Oh. Oh. So this is how it’s going to do. Clumsily, Leo strips down for Greco.
“Good. Stay, pet. Stay.”
Leo’s entire body is burning with the humiliation of being treated like this.
Greco walks to the table and picks two things up, hiding them behind his back. “You’re learning a lesson, Leo. Today, you’re going to be 501. Now, pets always wear their collar.” Greco steps forward, and before Leo can flinch back, a shock collar is buckled onto his neck, one notch too tight. He can barely move his neck now, is this how trainees feel all the time?
“Trainees such as 501 need extra security. You can classify these types as trainees with a history of biting who haven’t been fully broken in, trainees who came to WRU with backgrounds in fight training, Guard Dogs, and, in 501’s case, former Guard Dogs, although she checks all the boxes I just listed. Now, for this type of punishment, a ring gag is the incorrect type of gag. What you should have used is this.” Greco shows Leo the gag.
There’s a leather strap that will circle around the back of his head, one that will go over the top of his head and split into two different straps that hold a rubber bit, and those two straps turn into the one around the back of his head.
“Open, trainee,” Greco orders.
Leo shakily opens his mouth. The bit is shoved in, stretching his jaw wide, and the rubber leaves a strange taste on his tongue. Greco buckles it in place. “Shit, kid, I don’t know. You might make a better pet than you thought.”
Drool is already spilling from his lips, he can see the leather straps and feel them and it’s entirely too overwhelming. But experiencing this, it doesn’t make him feel bad for 501 and 236 and the other trainees. It just makes him disgusted to stoop this low.
“Up on the chair,” Greco barks.
Leo scampers over and sits down, more than eager to get this done with. Greco picks up the restraints. “You pull these all the way and then some. Understand, pet? Tight.”
The leather digs into Leo’s skin and he knows they’re playing a scene, that he’s not actually a box boy, but shit, it sure does feel like it. He makes a muffled noise behind the gag, trying to tell Greco that they’re too tight, that his fingers are tingling, but no words escape.
What pets think, what they want doesn’t matter. They’re just objects.
Greco snaps on a pair of gloves and starts feeling around Leo’s hand. “I’m going to ask you some questions.. Trainees normally don’t get asked these, but I need to make sure you’re understanding the point of this. Nod if you agree, shake your head if you don’t.” Greco finds a vein and starts cleaning the area. “Do you feel like a person?”
Leo shakes his head.
“What, you feel like a pet?”
Leo nods, tears threatening to fall once more.
“Now, do you feel bad for the trainees?”
Leo tenses up as Greco makes a mark on his hand with a pen.
“Breathe. I’ll ask again. Do you feel bad for the trainees?”
Leo shakes his head, his fiery red hair falling in his eyes.
“Good. Does 501 deserve this? After all, she signed the papers, voluntarily or assisted.”
Leo—a traitor to his own beliefs and a traitor to the strange bond he’s formed with the pet—nods his head vigorously, working his jaw around the gag.
“Yeah. Bitch has it coming.” Greco pulls out the needle. “Once I inject you with the green stuff, it’ll take about five minutes for the effects to kick in. While we’re waiting, I’m going to put electrodes on you. Shock treatment is a thirty minute process. James can contact your folks to come pick you up because your brain’s gonna scramble.”
Leo shakes his head, eyes wide with fear.
Greco sighs. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. Wouldn’t want my parents to know I was this much of a fuck-up either. You can stay in the clinic tonight and drive home tomorrow. Sound good?”
Leo nods. He’s so fucking tired of not being able to talk, like he’s an animal, like he’s a worthless pet.
There’s a rush of cold as the green stuff is injected into his body. Greco steps back from Leo and starts getting the electrodes. “Lucky we have so many of these machines,” he says cheerily to himself.
Leo can already feel the drug starting to work. His boxers and undershirt feel like weights on his skin, he’s glad Greco made him strip. A bead of sweat rolling down his arm is a trail of fire on his sensitive nerves. The IV in his arm feels like a monumental intrusion, the leather straps of the gag and the collar are killing him, fucking killing him.
Greco sticks an electrode to Leo’s forehead and he moans in pain. It feels like he’s been stabbed, like his life is being sucked out of him. “Oh, you’re going to be a reactive one,” Greco chuckles.
Leo loses count of the electrodes after ten, but he knows there are much more than that covering him. Every time a wire brushes his skin, he jolts violently. He half-wishes Greco let him take his shirt off, too, so he wouldn’t have to feel it like this.
“We’ll start on five and get up to ten,” Greco says. “When it starts to get too much, repeat a sentence in your head. ‘I’m a handler, they’re the pets.’ Nice and easy.”
Leo clenches his hands into fists and even that makes him keen.
“Need me to count down for you, kid?”
Leo nods. He can’t do this, he can’t, he’s sweating so much he’s sticking to the table and he’s already crying and his tears burn his skin. His heartbeat is out of control, each beat of blood hurts, hurts worse than he imagined.
“Shocks start in three…two…one.”
It’s fire exploding through a building, water crashing through a dam, his heart freezing and stuttering and the ceiling lights are getting brighter.
His back arches off the table and maybe it’s his time to grow wings and fly away from this godforsaken place.
It stops. It’s there in the absence of noise where Leo finds himself repeating the sentence over and over again.
I’m the handler they’re the pets
I’m the handler they’re the pets
I’m the handler they’re the
It starts up again. The machine delivers three pulses, each lasting two minutes, at one level before moving up to the next stage.
Leo isn’t going to make it through this. He’s lost control of his body, letting the shocks travel through him and move his limbs every possible direction. His jaw is slack, and he’s lying in a puddle of his own drool and it’s coating his chin and shirt along with the sweat.
Another shock. His brain is melting out of his head, he doesn’t even exist in the moments of reprieve anymore, he’s just swallowed by the pain and the fear and every nerve of his body lighting up from the brush of air on his pale skin.
He’s about to go, he can’t take this any longer, so he clings tightly to one thing.
I’m the handler they’re the pets
I’m the handler they’re the pets
I’m the handler they’re the pets
Over and over, it’s a cacophony, a whirlwind of noise, that one sentence on repeat because he can’t handle this anymore.
Part 2/4. Thank you to @shapeshiftersandfire for beta reading! Also, some of the dialogue in this was written by or modified from ideas by @painful-pooch and @circus-of-pain! You’re all wonderful. And again, thanks to the Whump a Woman server for working out some ideas with me.
CW: facility whump, referenced lady whump, whumping the whumper, humiliation from coworkers, name calling, punishment for poor work performance, light slapping, forced to kneel, jokes about forcing someone to become a pet
***
Bennett, one of the nurses in the clinic, is waiting for Leo at the door. The twenty-five year old African American grimaces at Leo’s wheezing, hunched over body, and leads him to a bed in the employee section.
“I already heard,” he says, grabbing a few things from a cabinet.
Leo lies down on the paper-covered bed, staring up at the ceiling. “So you heard that I’m in deep trouble?” he wheezes out.
“Hey, Leo, we all make mistakes.”
“Not my first one,” Leo mumbles.
Bennett walks back over, putting his supplies down. “Sit up for me. I need to check a few things before I can let you rest.”
Leo swings his legs over the side and sits up, grumbling.
Bennett taps on Leo’s chin. “Open.”
Leo drops his jaw and looks up at the ceiling, too embarrassed by the intimacy of it all.
Bennett briefly shines the light in Leo’s mouth before stepping back and setting the tool aside to be sanitized. “Okay. I don’t see any issues with your throat. Do you have any pain anywhere?”
Leo shakes his head. “J-just the bruising.”
Bennett frowns. “Tilt your head up. Let me see.”
Leo drops his head all the way back. Bennett runs his calloused fingers over the bruises, gentle enough so it won’t hurt. “Okay, you can relax now. Bruising isn’t that bad, I’ll put some cream on your throat that will soothe it, but they should fade in a week. Lie back down for me, sweetie. And then we can get to healing those emotional wounds.”
Leo flops boneless onto the bed. Bennett rubs a cream on his fingers and starts working it into Leo’s neck. “Why’d you do it?” Bennett asks quietly.
Leo makes a soft noise of protest. “Don’t want to talk now. Sorry.”
Bennett finishes rubbing the cream in and stands up. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll come get you when they call you to the Committee, okay? Lights on or off?”
“Off, please,” Leo says.
Darkness envelopes him as Bennett closes the door. He doesn’t know how long he’s there, but it’s long enough that he could have fallen asleep.
His guilt is eating at him. Right now, 501 is probably heavily sedated in the heavy restraints while a plan is developed for disciplinary action. It’s his fault. He provoked her, he knows better than to bait the former Guard Dog.
When Bennett comes back to get him, Leo’s stomach has twisted into complicated knots.
“James is here,” Beckett says. “The Committee’s ready for you.”
“Are they okay? The other handlers?” Leo asks.
“James was only dazed. He has some residual pain in his groin and some bruising on the side of his face and ribs. Dennison has a minor concussion, surface lacerations, a deep wound from being bitten, bruises on his back, and a desperate need for a chiropractor. None of the Guard Dog handlers who sedated 501 were injured.”
Leo stands up and heads out. James is waiting for him at the door to the clinic, a bruise blooming out from his temple. He doesn’t greet Leo, just turns and walks them down the hallway.
The Committee of Handlers for No-Mortality Incidents meets in a room just near the elevator. Before they walk in, James leans over and fixes Leo’s hair. “You tell them the truth. It’s best that way. Dennison was awake enough for this meeting, though, so there will be hell to pay.” He pauses. “Awake is a strong word. To be honest, kid, he just wanted to kick the shit out of you, and then he’s going back to the hospital.”
Leo nods frantically. That’s it, he’s going to be sick, he’s going to throw up all over James’s shoes that the pets have to polish.
James sighs. “And we’ll talk about this later. I’ll be here with you for the meeting, and Greco is also going to talk to the Committee, but you and I will have a private conversation at some point.”
Together, they head into the room.
The Committee is sitting at a long table, all six of them in a row and grouped by designation. The table is elevated slightly so they all look down at Leo. There are two handlers from each designation present, selected by corporate. The Guard Dog Handlers are Handler Robinson, a tall, lean woman with a scar on the side of her face, and Handler Cain, a muscular, quiet Hispanic man. Handler Paisley, a short blond man, and Handler Bright, a lanky brunette, make up the Platonic and Domestic Handlers. For the Romantics, there’s Handler Thomas, a pretty African American woman, and Dennison, who’s holding an ice pack to his head. There’s a bandage around his neck and an IV in his hand, leading to a bag of blood.
Handler Cain gestures to the chair in the center of the room, and in a voice too soft for his frame, he says, “Sit.”
The chair must be shortened or something, because Leo feels like a small child sitting in front of them. James sits in a chair on the back wall, joined by Greco when he slips in a moment later.
“Okay.” Handler Thomas looks around the room. “I call this meeting of the Committee of Handlers for No-Mortality Incidents. Handler-in-Training Finch, since this is your first official disciplinary strike, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. Since the merchandise, Romantic 728501, was not damaged during her escape, and there were no deaths of any merchandise or handlers, we’re allowed to peer-review you and assign appropriate disciplinary action. You’ll give your account of the events and what went wrong. Your supervising handler will speak on the accuracy of your account and Handler Greco will speak on 501’s condition. Then we’ll make some remarks on it, tell you what to do next time, and assign discipline. Understood?”
Leo nods. His leg is shaking out of control, he’s about to jump out of his chair and run.
There’s a horrible silence in the room before Handler Paisley leans forward. “You gonna start talking, kid? Or do we have to make you?”
There’s a chorus of laughter and Leo is burning up.
“I’ll talk,” Leo says, cringing at how weak his voice sounds. “What happened was that I gave 501 the green stuff, and Handlers Dennison and Hanford put the electrodes on her to do a shock treatment, but she slipped the restraints. She attacked Handler Dennison first, then Handler Hanford. Both did their best to subdue her, but failed. She, um, then she destroyed the shock machine and the remaining vial of the green stuff and started strangling me. Once I was able to, to stand back up, I followed her out and saw that Handler Greco and his team had managed to subdue her.”
“James, is that correct?” Handler Bright asks.
“Yeah,” he says from behind Leo. “But the little bitch didn’t tell you why this happened.”
Little bitch? Leo’s heart drops. He’s in danger here, a sheep surrounded by hungry wolves.
“Go on, dumbass,” Dennison snaps. “Tell everyone what you did.”
Leo’s words are barely audible. “I took her collar and gag off, and I left the restraints loose. But, but I had reasons, I needed to do the injection in her neck, and I was asking her a question, and her wrists and ankles were all chafed and I didn’t want her to be in more pain—” Nothing he’s saying is going to help his cause.
“What question was so important that you had to take off the gag on one of the most dangerous, volatile pieces of merchandise we have in this facility?” Handler Cain asks.
He can’t bring himself to say it.
Dennison slams his hands on the table. “For fuck’s sake!” he yells, then winces.
Handler Thomas watches him carefully. “I can call an alternate,” she says.
“Nah. I wanna flame broil this kid and then I’ll go back to the fucking clinic. What the fuck did ask 501, Leo?”
Leo focuses on a blemish on the floor. “I asked her if she was okay,” he stammers out. “I wanted to see if she was okay.”
The room erupts into chaos, people screaming at Leo but he can’t distinguish the words, before Handler Thomas cracks her baton down on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. “Quiet!” she yells. “Let Handler Greco make his report on 501’s condition and the damages before we do the peer review.”
Greco steps forward, holding a file folder. He throws it on the Committee’s desk. “The machinery and drugs that 501 broke cost ten thousand dollars. In addition, she put two handlers in the clinic with moderate injuries and caused bruising to another. That alone ups the cost because of the medical treatment. Now, as for 501, she’s in solitary, currently heavily sedated and in the restraints we use for Guard Dogs. Muzzle, straight jacket with metal bands woven in and bucked around the arms, high power shock collar, legs restrained with canvas, straps, and metal bands, chained to the floor with only three links of chain. When my team and I were restraining her, the pet was in severe psychological distress, which may in part be due to taking a high dose of the Hypersensitivity Enhancer, but I would say it’s mostly from her situation. Any questions?”
“What punishment is 501 receiving?” Handler Robinson asks.
“Handler Hanford and I will determine that tomorrow. After this meeting, he has been ordered by the clinic to go home to sleep off his injuries. 501 will remain in my care until then.”
“And the bonded?” she asks.
“The bonded is going to his room and will be staying there. He’s been reassured that 501 is alive and being punished. I slipped some mild sedatives into his food. 236 has always been a good boy, though,” James adds.
God, the trainees must be terrified. Or at least they will be tomorrow, when the aftermath sinks in.
“Can we get to the fucking peer review?” Dennison snaps. “My head is killing me.”
Leo grips the sides of the chair for dear life.
“Here at WRU, we don’t like company property destroying company property,” Handler Thomas says. “And we sure don’t like it to seem like a handler-sanctioned event.”
“These things aren’t people.” Handler Cain shifts in his chair. “They’re pets. They’re toys. They need structure. They don’t understand that. And 501 is particularly unstable. Any change in her environment, she reacts with anger. You need to be more strict with the pets. Help them stick to their schedule.”
This isn’t so bad. It’s fair feedback, actually, and Leo’s starting to calm down.
As if on cue, Handlers Robinson, Paisley, and Dennison stand up and crowd around Leo, boxing him in.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Handler Robinson grabs a handful of Leo’s red hair and yanks, snapping the boy’s head back. Leo whimpers, looking up at her with wide eyes. They can’t do this. He’s a handler, he works for them, this is wrong wrong wrong.
“What’s the matter, kid? Daddy didn’t hit you hard enough so you turned out all sweet and stupid?” Handler Paisley slaps Leo across the face, hard enough to sting. “Or did he leave you all alone? Probably deserved it, since you’re this fucking weak.”
Fuck. Leo feels tears building in his eyes.
Dennison glares at Leo. “You fucking bitch. You think we’re so bad and mean to that fucking mutt, but look what she did!” The bite mark is wrapped in gauze, but it’s already bleeding through the bandage. “Come on, Leo. Grow a pair and do your job. Letting these things, especially that mutt, have a break, doesn’t teach jack shit.”
“Eh, I think he’d be a better pet than a handler.” Handler Robinson gives another hard yank on his hair. “If he keeps whining like that, I think we better make him one of Dennison’s trainees.”
No. Leo thrashes around, ignoring the sharp tugs at his hair. He has to get out of here, he has to curl up and hide.
“He fights like a Romantic trainee, too,” Handler Robinson says. “Well, a normal Romantic trainee. 501’s just fucking crazy, so she’s an exception.”
“Our methods work,” Handler Paisley hisses. “Get your head out of your ass and see that. James filled us in on how you break the rules and try to make them like you. All you’re doing is fucking ruining everything!”
Dennison pauses for a minute, carefully appraising Leo before turning to Handler Robinson. “Get him on his knees. He wants to help the pets so bad, then he can join them.”
Handler Robinson grins wickedly and pulls Leo up by his hair, sending a kick to the back of his legs to force him onto his knees.
He wants to curl up and die but he can’t, not with Handler Robinson keeping him on his knees in front of the whole Committee. His left cheek is still red from Handler Paisley slapping him, his handler uniform is rumpled, his throat aches.
A single tear slides down his face. 501 isn’t worth this. They’re right. She’s just a feral animal. She’s just a mutt.
A camera flashes in the room, Leo cringes away, but it’s too late. The picture was taken. The damage was done.
Handlers Dennison and Paisley head up to the table. Handler Robinson rubs Leo’s head. “Think you can stay on your knees?”
Leo’s internal organs are made of shame. He nods, another tear falling.
“Good.” Handler Robinson slaps him in the back of the head before going back up to take her seat.
“Handler Dennison, since you’re the closest to this situation, I’ll allow you to make the call on the disciplinary measures for Handler-in-Training Finch,” Handler Thomas says. “As long as they’re approved by Handler Hanford.”
Dennison stares at Leo. “Do you like being on your knees? Do you like being a pet?”
“N-no, Sir.” Leo can hardly speak.
“Do you understand, pet, why we do what we do?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Dennison shakes his head. “I don’t think you do. Not well enough. Do you want to be my little bitch pet or do you want to be a handler?”
“I want to be a handler.” Leo gulps. “Sir.” He doesn’t want this, not really, but it’s better than the alternative.
“Okay. We have to solidify that, though. 501’s punishment was interrupted. Not only was that a behavioral adjustment for her, it was also a test of combining the green stuff and the shock machine. We’re missing data now.”
Leo doesn’t like this, not at all.
“Your discipline for allowing 501 to escape and damage handlers and equipment is to undergo 501’s punishment for her. I don’t think you’ll ever want to help the trainees after that. Handler Greco will administer. Then, you’ll be on two-day leave and I expect to see you back here with a brand new attitude.” His face softens, just for a minute. Maybe it’s from pain, maybe he’s thinking about his favorite trainee, the pretty boy with the silver eyes. “I don’t want to see you here again. Ever.”
It’s a general understanding that handlers who go rogue, start questioning the morality of keeping the trainees locked up like this, try to circumvent the system to get the pets out never see their friends and family again.
They end up on their knees wearing a white shirt, black shorts, and a shock collar.
Leo’s already one for four.
“Move him quietly,” Handler Thomas tells Greco. “If any of the trainees see a handler being treated like this, we’ll have widespread chaos on our hands. Handler Bright, is there any more documentation necessary for the conclusion of this hearing?”
Handler Bright scans the paper he’s been filling out. “Not to my knowledge. I’ll need Committee signatures once we conclude. Is there anything that should be redacted or…removed?”
Handler Thomas sighs. “Take out where Handlers Robinson, Paisley, and Dennison were talking to Handler-in-Training Finch. And where they hit him.”
Leo bites his bottom lip and stays on his knees. They can’t do this. They can’t just make it all go away that easily.”
“Okay. I’ll remove that part.”
What else have they redacted? They shouldn’t be able to do it that casually, just taking out where they forced Leo to his knees. How many times have they removed worse from their files?
The part that turns Leo’s stomach isn’t that they can redact whatever. It’s that they can redact things. That they know what they do is wrong, and they choose it anyways, over and over again.
Isn’t that what Leo’s doing? He’s not going too end up as a pet so instead, he becomes a monster, just like the handlers sitting in front of him.
He chose this.
“Meeting adjourned,” Handler Thomas says. “Handler Greco, make sure you give Handler-in-Training Finch a proper demonstration of how a pet should be secured.”
Leo doesn’t move until Greco taps his shoulder. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”
This is the first of a 4-part series! Each part has different CWs, so heed those. Thank you to @shapeshiftersandfire for beta reading this, and to the Whump a Woman discord server for throwing around ideas with me!
CW: pet whump, BBU, facility whump, lady whump, noncon drugging, shock torture, whumpee fights back, biting, concussion, dehumanization, handlers finally get what they deserve
***
Leo carefully buckles the restraints around 501’s hands, leaving them just a notch loose. “You okay?” he asks.
501 growls from behind the ring gag forcing her jaw open, saliva coating her chin.
Leo blushes. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He reaches around the girl’s head and undoes the leather straps, pulling the gag away.
501 coughs, cracking her jaw. “Why…why do you care?”
“Because...” He doesn’t have a good answer for her. Because he shouldn’t. Because he does anyways.
Leo steps down to where her ankles need to be fastened to the end of the dental chair, leaned back slightly. The girl’s legs are exposed in her black shorts: welts from James Hanford’s baton, a grotesquely swollen left knee, and bright red chafe marks from the metal restraints normally locked around her ankles. Leo winces at the sight, and buckles the leather straps more than a few notches loose.
James stepped out of the room to grab Patrick Dennison from his lunch break to see this display with 501. Leo’s been put in charge of prepping the trainee for today’s test.
She flexes her hands into fists, the only movement. Sometimes, he thinks she’s dead, how she barely moves. 501 just watches and waits for the right time to fight back.
Leo doesn’t blame her. Not with the way James treats her.
He slides his tray over to her and picks up a needle. “Okay. I’m going to start looking for a good injection site, alright?”
She stares stonily at him. With James, she’s a little more of a spitfire, but being away from her bonded puts her on edge.
Leo puts on purple latex gloves before feeling around her hand. She’s been under the needle a few too many times this week, and her hands are showing it. He frowns when he can’t find a good, unblemished spot. He tries the other hand. Nothing. Both elbows and feet. Nothing. He would call the medical team, but they’re not allowed to interact with 501 unless she’s heavily sedated, and that would disrupt today’s training plans.
Leo pulls out his keycard and holds it to the sensor on 501’s collar. With a faint beep, it comes undone, and Leo puts it on the table. 501 shudders at the loss, turning her head side to side.
“Hey, hey, stop that,” Leo says, putting a hand on her cheek. “I took your collar off, so you won’t get in trouble. It was my decision. I’m going to do the injection in your neck, okay?” His throat locks. “If you stay still, I won’t have to get Handler Hanford.”
He hates himself more every day he does this job. Every time he has to say pets instead of people. When he has a girl who’s two months younger than him, just barely nineteen, tied to a dental chair to be hurt.
The girl narrows her eyes at him but goes still, baring her neck. Leo presses around with two fingers before finding a vein. “There we go. Stay still.” He cleans the site up with a cold antiseptic before pressing the needle in.
She doesn’t flinch. He thinks it’d be better if she flinched, or cried, or did something to show that she didn’t like it.
Leo tapes it down and makes sure her restraints are still comfortable, just as the door swings open.
James and Dennison walk in. Dennison is almost half a foot taller than James, and a lot more muscular, but Leo supposes that James makes up for it in fury.
“I’m sorry, I had to do the injection in her neck,” Leo explains. “She’s had too many IVs and drugs recently. And I ungagged her too, she was drooling so much the electrodes wouldn’t stick.” The second one is a lie, but James is never going to know.
“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t have forgotten position 13 four days ago.” James leaves the door unlocked. “Greco might come by later when she’s out of it. Scare the shit out of her.”
Dennison walks over to the dental chair. “What do you want me to do?”
“We’re not doing much today,” James says. He rolls a machine out from the corner and starts untangling the electrode wires. “Put some of these on her head. Leo, push twenty milligrams of the green stuff.”
The hypersensitivity drug. It’s still in the testing phases, no one has any idea of the long term affects. But 501 hasn’t had any adverse reactions to it yet, so she takes a full dose. It’s supposed to make every single feeling the trainees experience even more powerful, pain, pleasure, the clothes against their skin. Makes 501 half-crazy.
Dennison sticks electrodes onto the girl’s forehead while James puts them on her stomach.
501 is already sweating, shifting around in her restraints as her pupils blow wide.
“I should try this on my boy,” Dennison says with a faint smile.
“Yeah, see, but you’re boring. You’d be all soft and cuddly and shit. We’re just gonna shock her until she cries.”
“My boy’s a masterpiece. 501 is…”
James laughs. “Yeah. You don’t need to tell me that she’s a fucking disaster.”
Leo shifts around, torn between saying something to defend the girl or staying quiet. Either way, she’s still getting shocked. He’s already on thin ice with James after being caught giving 236 extra scraps of bread from the employee lounge and giving 501 painkillers and letting both of them catch a thirty minute nap while James was at lunch and…
He sees the point.
James puts more electrodes on 501’s arms while Dennison works on her legs. She’s whining when the men touch her. It must feel like fire on her skin, the way she’s sweating and squirming.
Leo is glad he left the restraints loose, otherwise the leather on her chafed skin would be hell.
The last of the electrodes go on, followed by her sharp whine from James pinching the girl’s skin.
Dennison laughs. “Shit. Now you’re really making me want to try the green stuff on 479. He’d sound gorgeous.”
James moves to stand by the source of the electrodes, his jaw clenched. There’s a dangerous look in his eye, spitting fire down at the weak trainee. “I don’t care about her sounding pretty. I wanna hear her fucking scream.”
Leo takes a step backwards, colliding with the table. Isn’t there supposed to be a clear reason to hurt them? The trainees, the pets, whatever Leo is supposed to call them? And shouldn’t there be a system to make sure that the handlers don’t get to take the…the pets on a joyride?
Not for Senior Handlers Dennison and Hanford, both with spotless records and friends among the higher-ups.
“Charging,” James says, switching on the machine. “We’ll start at five and work our way to ten.”
The green stuff doesn’t take away a trainee’s lucidity, so 501 whimpers as she registers their words. Leo is shaking and desperately wishing he brought earplugs so he didn’t have to hear her scream.
“Five more seconds,” James mutters.
Trainee 501 bolts up, knocking her head against Dennison’s. The man stumbles back, blood gushing from his mouth. “Fuck!” he yells.
501 slipped her restraints.
501 slipped her restraints because Leo didn’t tighten them enough.
The electrodes rip from her skin as she stands up, shaking herself out of her ankle restraints. She jumps on Dennison’s back, clawing at his neck.
“Shock her!” James roars at Leo.
His heart is pounding, he’s terrified of 501 and James and what happens after. “I can’t! I took her collar off!”
When 501 only manages to draw a little blood from her short nails, she bites down on the man’s neck while kneeing him in the spine.
Leo took the gag off 501.
Dennison makes a strangled noise, sounding more animal than human. 501 pulls her head back and spits something on the floor.
501 bit a chunk off Dennison’s neck because Leo took her gag off.
She jumps off his back, but maintains her grip on his shoulders to kick him hard in the back. Dennison folds like a card, his head slamming against the floor.
“Dennison.” James says softly.
He doesn’t answer.
501 retrieves his shock baton from his belt and starts approaching James.
Leo wants to go invisible, he wants to pretend this isn’t happening.
James pulls out his baton. “Stand down, puppy,” he says with a nervous glance back at Dennison.
The man isn’t getting up.
“Not…your…fucking…puppy!” 501 yells, launching forward with a strike.
Hypersensitivity is hell. 501 must be dying, all those feelings on her skin, a single bead of sweat could be short-circuiting her brain. But it’s also making her more alert.
James should be able to take her down with one strike. He does taekwondo on the weekends and he’s widely known for being able to subdue even the unruliest of Guard Dogs. But somehow, each of his attempts to stop 501 is blocked easily by the girl. She pushes forward with an extra surge, swinging from a block to hit James in the side with the baton at full power.
James screams like his throat is being ripped out and falls over. 501 kicks him in the groin, and at that, he sobs and curls up, giving 501 the chance to strike him in the head so he’s too dazed to move.
There’s a split second pause while 501 catches her breath until she turns to Leo. She walks forward, and Leo’s heart is hammering into his ribs, she’s going to kill him—
She swings the baton down on the machine over and over and over until it’s just a mess of parts and cracked plastic.
She’s moving again, closer and closer.
Just to slam the baton on the remaining vial of the green stuff, spilling the liquid everywhere.
501 drops the baton. It clatters to the floor amidst the chorus of safe safe safe safe in Leo’s brain.
He’s going to be okay.
501 reaches out to him, and Leo smiles reassuringly.
Her hands wrap around his throat and his eyes fly open. She has to reach up to get to his neck, but she’s choking him, her grip strong and unyielding.
It doesn’t matter what he does. He’s always going to be a handler to her.
Her pupils are blown out, almost completely obscuring her irises. She must be suffering so much in there, Leo can tell from how much she’s trembling and breathing heavily.
“Stop,” he croaks out. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She puts more pressure on his neck in response.
It takes longer for him to go limp than he thought. They stare at each other for several minutes as Leo’s vision starts to go and he loses feeling in his limbs.
501 drops him when his vision is completely grayed out and he can’t move. From his sideways, blurry angle on the floor, he sees 501 pick back up the baton and start walking out the door.
He has to get up.
Dennison is unconscious and James won’t be moving for a while and it’s up to him to go get 501 back. They’re both fucked. This never would have happened if James did the restraints. He’s going to be reprimanded severely. He might even get reassigned.
Nothing compared to the pain 501 is going to get for escaping. Good trainees sit there and take it.
Leo takes deep breaths. Bruises are already forming on his pale, freckled skin, almost like a collar.
He should have left the collar on. He should have left the gag on. He should have tightened the restraints all the way and even added some.
Slowly, Leo manages to drag himself to his feet, bent over, and he holds onto the wall and makes his way into the hallway.
There’s a loud commotion going on down the hall. Leo makes his way to the source of the noise, wheezing pathetically.
501 is being held in the air by five different Guard Dog handlers. Four of them have one of her limbs each and Handler Greco is holding her head, fitting a thick leather muzzle over her face as she thrashes and screams. Once the muzzle’s on and she’s quiet, Greco reaches in his pocket to get a syringe of powerful sedatives, enough to knock out a Guard Dog twice 501’s size. He pops off the cap and jams it into 501’s neck.
The handlers relax, and one picks up 501’s limp body and slings her over his shoulder.
Greco lays eyes on Leo and his nostrils flare. “What the fuck did you do, kid?”
Leo’s face is bright red, not just from being strangled.
“Shit. James and Dennison.” He takes off down the hallway towards the training room. Leo limps behind to follow him, but he’s farther behind. When he gets back to the training room, Greco is on his knees next to Dennison, talking on the radio.
“We need medical. Two stretchers, and I’ll be sending someone else down. Three handlers injured, two in pretty bad condition. The trainee was fine. She’s in solitary now.”
“On our way.”
“10-4.” Greco sets his radio down and looks up at Leo. “You fucked up, didn’t you?”
Leo nods.
Greco sighs. “Alright. Walk your ass down to medical. You’re going to stay there until you’re cleared and we put together the Committee to review this. And, you know. When James comes to.”
“I’m sorry,” Leo whispers, running his hand over his throat.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, kid. I have two knocked-out handlers here, and 501 is being strapped up in solitary. Trainees need structure. I don’t know what you did, and I don’t want you to tell me now, but the responsibility falls on you, not 501 or James or Dennison.” Greco makes a shooing gesture. “Get the fuck out of here. Go.”
CW: lady whump, noncon drugging, brutal beatdown, pet whump, BBU, facility whump, post-whump comfort (for one person), brainwashing from torture
***
He doesn’t even recognize when it’s over, his body convulsing with aftershocks, until Greco is undoing the restraints. When his hands touch Leo’s sweaty skin, Leo wails, so loud it can be heard through the gag and into the hallway.
“It’s over, Leo. You did it. Here, let me—“ Greco unbuckles the gag and pulls it off, careful not to touch the boy any more then necessary. “Okay, You can talk now.”
“I’m the handler they’re the pets,” Leo sobs, curling his hands to his chest. There’s red marks on his wrists from the restraints. “I’m the handler they’re the pets, please, Greco, I’m so sorry, I’m the handler they’re the pets.”
Greco awkwardly runs his hand through his hair, “Um, yeah. Listen, kid, I’ve got to go deal with 501, but I called for that nurse you like and he’s on his way. He’ll finish untying you.”
“I’m the handler they’re the pets,” Leo whispers.
Greco seems unsure what to say. He walks out the door, leaving Leo in a pile of his own sweat, tears, and drool, mumbling to himself.
Five minutes later, Bennett bursts in and starts taking off the electrodes and the collar. He ignores Leo’s soft protests, saying, “It’ll be better when they’re off.”
It’s Bennett who’s undressing Leo fully, and Leo’s too out of it to be embarrassed as Bennett rubs a cool washcloth over every part of his body despite Leo’s whimpering, Bennett who gets him dressed in clean boxers, soft gray sweatpants, and a handler t-shirt.
It’s only once he’s dressed and starting to calm down, Bennett combing out Leo’s sweaty hair, that he realizes the full extent of his condition. All the dampness wasn’t just from sweat, he had urinated himself on the table.
“Oh my god,” Leo says, scooting back from Bennett. “Did I—“
“It happens,” Bennett says with a shrug. “Don’t feel too bad about it.”
“And you just saw me naked?” Leo squeaks.
Bennett moves closer, guiding Leo’s head down to lay on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around the trembling boy, keeping him close. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Promise. You’ve had a hard day, haven’t you?”
Leo starts to cry again. It doesn’t last long, his tear ducts dry up from dehydration, and he sits up. “I thought I was going to die,” he confesses. “It hurt so bad I thought I was going to die.”
“I’m sorry.” Bennett stands up and offers his hand out to Leo. “I’ve got a bed for you in the clinic. You shouldn’t be driving right now, you can sleep this off.”
Leo’s head spins as he takes Bennett’s hand and rises, it’s taking all his remaining strength not to just keep repeating I’m a handler they’re the pets again and again. “W-we have to go somewhere first,” he stammers. “To see 501.”
“Fine. But one second.” Bennett pops outside to grab a wheelchair and roll it in. “We don’t go anywhere until you sit down.”
Leo shakes his head. “No, I can walk. See?” His first step is successful, but his second one sends him careening to the ground.
Bennett is right there to catch him and guide him into the chair. “Sweetie, you just had your brain melted. I’ll wheel you around.”
Leo’s overjoyed to leave the training room behind.
They hear 501 screaming before they see her. She’s in the training room on the corner, the one with one way windows for people to watch training sessions. The wire muzzle explains why they can hear her so loud.
There’s too many details for Leo to take in all at once. The three empty vials, one with the remnants of the purple stuff, one with yellow, one with green. Four handlers and Greco, all wearing heavy protective gear and holding batons.
Not the normal ones, the ones Leo carries. The thick, long ones that carry enough shock power to stop a force.
501’s hands are tied above her head, her legs are tied so they’re slightly spread.
They’re beating her harder than he’s ever seen, beating her so bad the blunt force of the batons is splitting open her skin and making red run across the white room. She’ll be in the clinic for weeks, based on how her lips are stained with flecks of blood and her screams are so horribly twisted that they sound demonic.
He’s so much of a failure that they had to call in the Guard Dog handlers to deal with a Romantic.
“Leo, are you okay?” Bennett asks.
Voice catches, eyes are dry, hands shake just a little. “I’m a handler,” he says. “They’re just pets. Get me out of here. I don’t want to look at this…mutt anymore.”
Leo thinks that maybe he should be sad or scared for 501 on that combination of specialty drugs taking a horrific beating, but all he has in his mind are how the shocks felt and
