Zed chuckles, smiling. "What you mean, evil? You askin' when we started hurtin' folk? Started takin' people an' showin' 'em the lay o' the land?"
"I think they are, brother," Maynard says, mirroring his brother's crooked grin. "You wanna tell 'em?"
"Fuck yeah I do. Started when we was jus' boys. We'd come up here to Teufort wit' pops 'cause he wanted to show us 'round the base. It were late an' we was playin' in the common room, an' daddy weren't nowhere t'be found. Me an' May decided we was gon' go explore without pa, 'cause we was bored of playin' cards. So, we went outside, started wanderin' around. Now, out wayyy on t'edge of the base was where dad kept his workshop – ol' Chev didn't want 'im makin' a racket while everyone was asleep, 'cause he always did his work at night, so he built himself a shop out where only the coyotes 'n' t'roadrunners could hear 'im."
Maynard lets out a fond laugh. "Good thing birds and coyots don't talk."
"Heh. So, we was goin' out, when we heard screamin' comin' from the shop. Now, we was of course concerned, 'cause it sounded an awful lot like pops, so of course we went over there an' climbed up on some boxes, peeked in through t'window, tryin' to see what was goin' on. Boy, what we saw was nothin' short a' beautiful. An' o' course, we got to have our own fun."
short story below cut! cw // graphic depictions of violence, generally just a wee bit fucked up. I pulled out an actual spanner to figure out if part of this would work
A scream echoes through the old shop, metal colliding with a warm body with a wet thump.
"What you screamin' for, Hoss?" Fred Conagher's voice says, an uncharacteristic venom leaking through his words. He bounces his spanner in his hand as he says, "Thought you was s'posed to be tough. You're a cheap copy of me, ain'tcha?"
His own face peers back up at him, beaten bloody and bruised. A pretty little shiner encapsulates the RED Engineer's left eye, his nose crooked and his lip split.
RED lies on the floor, clutching his aching side – he's sure his skin is bruised and the bone is cracked where the spanner's edge has slammed into his ribs. He twitches, and then he groans, trying to drag himself away.
"Answer me, boy," Fred snaps, crouching down and snatching him up by the collar, dragging him up to his feet and wrenching another scream out of him.
RED chokes out a sob, his legs shaking underneath him. He buries his face in his counterpart's chest, smearing blood over the front of his overalls, hiccuping and choking on his own air.
"I– I can't," he gasps, lifting his gloved hands to cling to the other. "Please, please–"
"Now, I've only had you for a couple days," Fred tells him condescendingly. "Don't ya know? Your sorry ass is mine for a couple weeks while we's on ceasefire for t'holiday. I told you, keep that filthy mug away from my boys, or you're gonna see why folks don't mess with my family."
"C-Couple...weeks..?" the clone asks. "N-No...No, nono, you s-said–"
"Shit, ain't you ever been lied to before?" Fred asks.
"No, no, no...No, pl-please, j-just–" RED breaks down into sobs, clinging harder to his captor, wallowing in false comfort. "Send me back, send me back, please–"
"Aw," the BLU cooes in mock sympathy, lifting his arms to wrap around the clone in a hug. "I know, buddy. You been hurtin' real bad, ain'tcha?"
RED tries to ignore the feeling of the spanner brushing against him, blubbers incoherently against the other man's chest. His face aches, his side burns, and he can feel his heart slamming in his chest. He sucks up the false comfort like a Stockholm-ridden idiot, savoring this brief moment of respite.
Fred grunts, shifting how the spanner rests in his palm. He wedges it in between himself and his clone, finding the RED's hand where it clings to his bloodied shirt. It takes him a minute to get the spanner where he wants it, wedging the clone's hand in the tool's mouth just below the knuckle of his pinky. He tightens it, goes until the spanner's teeth bite down between the bones of RED's hand.
He hears RED's breathing shake, struck uneven by the action. He grabs the spanner by the end of its handle, gripping hard, and he pushes, forcing RED's hand to twist out of place with a loud crack.
RED screams, his sobs coming back full force as Fred rips the wrench away, shoving him to the floor. He watches as the original snatches an old mechanical drill – not one of those newfangled powered ones, but a proper, full-mechanical job – off the bench.
"Open wide, Hoss," Fred says, giving the crank on the side of the drill a spin. "I'm gonna–"
He pauses. RED's glancing towards something. He follows his gaze and he feels his heart drop a little.
"Boys?" he says, panic creeping into his voice despite how he shoots them a withering look. "I thought I told y'all to stay in the main building."
The twins, peering in from an open window, stare like deer in headlights. Neither of them can form words, going silent under the stern gaze of their father.
Fred huffs a sigh, gesturing with his free hand. "Come in here. Now."
The twins are quick to obey, shuffling down from their perch. After a few moments, they stand in the workshop, glancing between their father standing there clutching an old drill, and his double lying in a bloodied mess on the floor, his hand mangled by the BLU's spanner.
"Now, look," Fred says, kneeling down to be at their level, "I know this looks a bit frightenin', but sometimes, your pa has to–"
"Can I try?" a small voice interrupts.
"Wh-What?" Fred stammers, turning to look at Zed, uncertain if he'd heard correctly.
"I...I wanna try the drill," Zed says, pointing towards the tool.
Maynard hesitates, before nodding in agreement. "M-Me too," he says quietly. "Or the...the wrench. I like the wrench."
Fred glances between his tools, and then back at the RED staring at him wide-eyed.
The RED starts, "Y-You sick bastard, surely–"
"Shut up," Fred snaps, turning back to the twins. "You really want to give it a go, boys?"
"Yeah!" Zed says happily. "You can teach us! Then I can deal with the stupid lardass bullying May-May!"
Fred laughs. "Now, Zed, don't call folks nasty things like 'lardass', that ain't how we operate." He hums, his tension all but gone. "Just once, alright? Then you boys gotta get off to bed, else you're gon' be all crabby in t'mornin' an' I can't show you around."
"Okay!" the twins chirp in unison.
RED lies curled up on the floor, his breath ragged, as that little devil approaches with that damn instrument of torture in his hand. He pleads, "No, no, no–!!" until Fred forces his jaw open, guiding the drill bit to rest against one of his teeth.
"Don't drill too deep, now, son," Fred says softly. "I still got more time to spend wit' this fella."
"Okay, daddy," Zed replies, struggling to hold up the heavy tool.
Set to the underscore of RED's screams, a father has bonding time with his sons, chattering away about their plans for tomorrow and how they'll spend the rest of the ceasefire.
