Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When it came down to the way that Free De La Hoya felt about the Raging Bulls, it wasn't entirely in the most positive light that one might think.

Sure, Free was the best blader of all time. He could easily stomp on any blader who decided to try and step up and challenge him, get in the way of- not his fame, he didn't really care about the glory, but- well, his free time. Whether it was training in his old favourite forest- geez, he missed that spot- or even just taking a nap beneath the warm, baking sun. He was, as Kris had called him time and time again, a free spirit. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and he didn't let anybody get in his way.

Maybe that was why he felt like he was in such a closed off box right now. Free wasn't necessarily the type of person where he wanted to change things all the time, he wasn't as impulsive as- say, Sisco, but he wanted to have the ability to change them if he so wished, y'know? If he were to suddenly decide he wanted to quit blading and go live in some kind of logged cabin in the middle of a forest, with no reception, no people to bug him, just nothing but his deer and Fafnir with him for the rest of time- he wanted to have the ability to do so. Not that he would… Maybe. But again, he wanted to be able to do that, if he so desired.

To put it simply, being in the Raging Bulls made Free feel trapped. Back in BC Sol, Kris got him. She understood him and his weird quirks, and adapted things around for him. He could be late if he wanted to, he could go to the forest and disappear for a good few hours if he so desired, hell- he could just leave in the middle of training because she and everybody else knew he had his own routine that worked for him, made him the star he was today. But in the Bulls?

Theodore had always treaded carefully around him, he was well aware that he had to stay on Free's good side in order to keep him on the team. However, he wouldn't seem to make every single exception that Kris would. Which- made sense, he wasn't Kris, obviously, but Theodore didn't entirely seem to understand that Free had a way of training that worked for him, and getting in the way of it only sabotaged his health and his ability to blade sufficiently. Not to mention, now that Joshua Burns was a part of the Bulls, it kind of made him want to go back to BC Sol even more. Joshua annoyed him, to put it lightly, and not many things were able to annoy him at the capacity that Joshua did. He had such an ego that he… Wasn't worthy of, to be blunt, and, well…

Overall, Free wasn't very happy on The Raging Bulls. And he couldn't really stop thinking about it.

…Which was probably why he was in the situation he was currently in. That situation being, a half hazed Free De La Hoya, blinking incredulously and staring after the car that had just whizzed by him, which was now honking due to what had just happened. Free had been walking down the street, the pavement rough under his feet, completely lost in thought, and- well- he supposed he hadn't quite looked both ways properly before moving to walk across a crosswalk.

He shook his head to snap himself out of his haze, glancing around. He was kind of in the middle of nowhere, flat, grassy lands around him besides the bit of pavement and road he was currently standing by. He was on farmland, maybe? He wasn't sure. He didn't really know where he was, but he wasn't the one who had chosen this location in the first place. He had just been following the street signs and occasionally asking random people for directions on where he was meant to be going.

Looking around for cars this time, he determined it to be clear and walked across the road, onto the island between the two crosswalks that separated the directions of the cars. He looked again, then crossed once more. Turning left, he glanced around momentarily before finally spotting a parking lot with a diner that looked like something out of a 50s TV show. Or- in his case, an Archie Comic. He preferred to look at comic books more than watching TV, after all, he hadn't exactly grown up with access to screens, and… Well, reading wasn't his strong suit either. Free liked pictures, they were easy to understand, hard to misinterpret— depending on the artist, and nice to look at.

He approached the diner and pushed the door open, immediately looking around. The diner was lit primarily by LED signs that slightly overwhelmed Free's head if he focused on them for too long, the floor checkered in a black and white pattern. Upon entering, the first thing he spotted was stools at the counter where you could order, which had another quite large LED sign, this one being a pink milkshake with a red cherry on top, along with vibrant dark red booths scattered around the place that really tied it all together.

His eyes finally landed upon the very thing that complimented the very red scenery, that being a certain green haired male who was sitting very inappropriately for a public setting. Not that he cared, he never really had. Sisco Karlisle sat by his lonesome in one of the red booths, his arm shifted back so his elbow rested on top of the seat, his brown boots carelessly sprawled on the table. He had a partially drunken milkshake placed on the table that resembled the LED sign by the counter, a pink, likely strawberry flavoured one- or- wait, no, it was more brownish pinkish, he didn't know… As well as a half eaten burger of some sort with a napkin loosely wrapped around it, and some french fries. His expression was almost irritated looking, his eyebrows in a slight furrow and his gloved hand closed in a gentle fist, resting over the bottom of his cheek and partially over his mouth, his gaze unmoving. He seemed to be zoned out.

Free's eyes almost softened slightly at the sight of- oh, not Sisco, but the small basket of french fries on his table. He immediately strided over and flopped down across from Sisco, watching the other man lift his head and blink in slight surprise as Free took a few fries, shovelling them into his mouth.

Sisco narrowed his eyes at Free and pulled his feet to the side off the table, then moved to sit properly. He reached for the burger, specifically taking hold of the napkin so his gloves wouldn't get greasy. Why he didn't take them off, Free didn't know. "You're late."

Free shrugged, chewing on a fry and admiring the yellow stick in his hand. "…I walked. Added some time."

Sisco blinked incredulously, taking a bite of the burger and huffing. He hooked his finger over his mouth as he spoke, looking very similar to an english teacher speaking as she ate a cesar salad, as to not flash the entire world with his burger bites. "You walked all the way here? From where?"

Free shrugged yet again, and Sisco sighed. "You didn't— get Kris to drive you?"

"Nah, she was busy." Free shrugged, taking another fry. "Still wanted to see you though, so I made do."

Sisco paused, staring at Free for a second, then he sighed again, moving to take a sip of the mystery milkshake. "…I… Guess I can appreciate-"

"What kind of milkshake is that?"

Sisco blinked as his fucking rizz was interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

"The milkshake." Free gestured to it. "It's like- pink and brown at the same time. What is it?"

Sisco blinked again, then raised a brow. "…You can mix flavours here, so I got strawberry and peanut butter. What, you wanna try it?"

Free nodded, and Sisco slid him the milkshake. Free lowered himself down to the red and white striped straw and took a sip, feeling Sisco's eyes on him. After a moment, he lifted his head, smacking his lips together slightly and thinking about it. "…Mm, not bad."

Sisco rolled his eyes, and Free slid the milkshake back. At the same time, a waitress came over and greeted Free, asking if he wanted anything. He opted for a chocolate milkshake and a basket of french fries, as well as a smaller cheeseburger.

"…So… How's life in the big leagues?" Sisco asked, propping his elbow on the table and laying his head down atop his palm, raising his eyebrows at Free. Sisco was so expressive, Free honestly admired it at times.

However, at the question, his mind wandered back to what he had been pondering earlier on. "…Mm." Free shrugged, stealing a sip of Sisco's milkshake.

Silas watched him, unphased at the food stealing, then raised a brow. "What is 'mm'?"

"I dunno." Free sighed, trying to decipher his own emotions. He wasn't great at them. "…Confusion."

Sisco narrowed his eyes, lifting his head and leaning back in the chair. "Confusion over… What, exactly?" He prompted, causing Free to sigh again.

"Just…" Free hesitated, and Sisco nodded slightly, trying to encourage him to say whatever was on his mind. "…I think I wanna leave the Bulls, honestly?"

Sisco blinked. This wasn't entirely what he was expecting. "…You- oh??" He cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "…Okay, why?"

Free shook his head, nibbling on a french fry. "It's… Not really... Nice anymore?" He shrugged. "I kind of just… I don't know." He leaned back a little, letting his back rest against the fake leather fabric of the seat. "…I feel…" Ugh, feelings were hard to talk about. He pressed his lips together slightly. "…Stuck."

Sisco observed him quietly. He wasn't expressing it outwardly, but he knew the other quite well. Free was nervous, he could tell. He had to tread carefully here otherwise Free might just- shut down and not say anything else at all regarding the matter. "…Mhm."

Free shook his head again. "I dunno." He shrugged. The waitress brought his food and drink, and Sisco ended up being the one who thanked her due to how lost in thought Free was.

"Theodore is… Strange." Free muttered, once they were alone again. "He gives me a weird sort of… Feel."

"A vibe-?"

"Yeah, that. Plus, I'm not gonna lie to you, Joshua is… Well, he's…"

"Insufferable?" Sisco raised a brow, his face already hardening at the mere mention of Joshua's annoying ass. He had never liked Joshua, especially with the way he acted towards Free.

"…Well, I wasn't gonna say that but- yeah." Free rolled his eyes, leaning forward onto his elbows. "He just… Won't leave me alone. He lets his ego get in the way of everything, and- to be honest, it's costing us." He shook his head again. "I want… My freedom back."

Sisco almost snorted at this, thinking it was a pun, but when Free remained unmoving in his expression, Sisco shut his mouth. He leaned forward so he could focus on Free's words more, and- also so he could be a bit closer to him. Shut up.

"…I dunno, I just feel like I can't do as much as I could before. BC Sol, they…" He looked off to the side slightly with only his eyes, head still unmoving. "They know my routines. They know what works for me. They don't… Keep me in a box."

Free reached for the straw of the milkshake, absentmindedly stirring it around his glass. "I miss being able to, like…" He shrugged again. "…Trust my team."

Sisco frowned, suddenly feeling a pang in his chest. Guilt? Protectiveness? Concern? He wasn't quite sure what it was, to be honest. "…Free, let me ask you something." He leaned back again, staring at the other. "Are you happy?"

Free thought about this for a good while, it took him a minute to answer. "…No."

Sisco watched the other's genuine response with a sort of sadness, then, with a newfound fire in his eyes, leaned forward again and placed his hand on top of Free's. This action caused Free to glance up, clearly confused. "Sisco?"

"Then get the fuck out of there, goldilocks."

So that was how he ended up here about a week later.

Standing in front of Theodore's office, Free briefly reflected on the week he had spent in Spain with Sisco. Days talking and training in the forest, eating food, meeting up with friends from BC Sol, and nights just leisurely watching movies together, falling asleep on each other, and that one ice cream fight they had where- surprise, they literally just threw ice cream at each other for like 10 minutes while screaming.

It made him remember what it was like to be able to trust so deeply. To truly relax. It was something he hadn't really realized he had been missing.

So, he was going to quit the Raging Bulls, and he was going to go back to BC Sol. He hadn't exactly spoken to Kris yet, but he had a one way flight back to Spain in a few days, so he had enough time to sort this out. This was happening, whether Theodore liked it or not.

Inhaling sharply, Free knocked on the door, and he heard that cold, calculated voice respond from within. "Come in."

Free opened the door and stepped inside, letting his hand graze the smooth wood before he dropped his arm, making his way towards Theodore's wooden desk. The room was tidy, light shining in through a large window framed with red curtains directly behind the desk, a red carpet below them and wooden bookshelves scattered around. The shelves were dusty, the books clearly having been untouched for some time. Trophies were scattered around, as well as a few mini globes and things like that. In the corner of one shelf, crumpled up pieces of paper that clearly, no love had been given to. Fan mail, gifts from children who admired Theodore, things like that all pushed away into a dark, webby corner, never to be looked at unless Theodore needed the false affirmation that he was a good, kind man.

The older man was facing away from him, but the desk chair slowly swivelled around as Free got closer. If this were a movie, Theodore would likely have some form of cat on his knee and would be petting it, saying 'well well well' or something like that. Sigh. Free missed Sisco's cat. He liked the cat better than Sisco, at this point.

"Free," Theodore greeted, giving him a cold, sharp smile. "What can I do for you?"

Free stared at Theodore, deadpan as ever, he had Fafnir in his hand, gently running his thumb over the top of the beyblade. "…I'm quitting the team."

Theodore paused, his smile faltering. He clearly hadn't been expecting that. His gaze hardened, and he leaned forward in the chair, clasping his hands together and intertwining his fingers. "…I'm sorry?"

"I'm leaving the Raging Bulls." Free said, voice unwavering. "I'm going back to Spain in three days, and I'll be rejoining BC Sol from there. My decision's final." He turned to leave the room.

"Wait."

The voice was sharp. Not loud, but firm. Free stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes.

"Is Kris aware of this… Questionable decision?" Theodore questioned, and Free narrowed his eyes.

"…She will be."

"Are you certain there is nothing I can do to change your mind?" Theodore questioned, the tone of his voice almost a warning. Free, however, did not pick up on this.

"Nope." Free responded, popping the P in nope. He went to start walking again, but with a snap of Theodore's fingers, one of the men at the door pushed it shut and stepped in front of it, blocking Free from exiting. Free quirked a brow, and he could hear Theodore getting up from his desk, pulling the red curtains to the large, glass window shut and walking up behind him.

"That's a shame, then." Theodore practically crooned, running a hand over Free's arm in a manner that sent chills up his spine. He didn't like that. The room was too dark now, without the daylight shining in. Were those blackout curtains?

Free made a beeline to push past the guard and get to the door, but Theodore grabbed his arm, wrenching him back and roughly grabbing Free's jaw, forcing the younger man to look at him. In the forceful actions, Fafnir fell from Free's palm, and Free fought against Theodore's grip as he noticed the guard bending down to pick it up. Fuck, he was holding onto him hard-

"You will work for me for as long as I see fit." Theodore declared, his tone no longer having that fake-niceness to it. His grip on Free's face and arm were bruising, and Free struggled against him. "And if you're just going to keep fighting me? Well-" Theodore chuckled. "We can do this the hard way."

Theodore nodded to one of the two guards, one walking over to Theodore's desk. He pulled out a baby blue cloth and a bottle of- something, pouring it onto the cloth and then walking back over, holding it out to Theodore.

Theodore grinned slightly, finally letting go of Free's face to take the cloth. Free barely had time to process the fact that he could recover before the cloth was slammed against his face, covering his nose and mouth. Free let out a muffled, "mmf-!" and fought against his grip, only getting himself backed into a bookshelf, hard. Some books fell off, as well as a glass vase that broke, and Free felt a throbbing pain throughout his head.

"Don't worry." Theodore crooned as Free's vision began to get hazy. "You'll see things my way soon enough."

Free couldn't- he- Everything was… So…

"Nighty night, bird."

Everything faded into black.

Chapter Text

Three days after the disappeance of Free De La Hoya.

It was three days later when Sisco Karlisle realized something was wrong.

Free hadn't really been answering his messages, in fact- he had only really texted him to say that the plane had safely landed back in America. Sure, they had a short conversation afterwards, but Free hadn't texted him back in days now. Sisco was more than a little worried, to say the least.

But no matter, right? Sisco would see him soon, as he was standing amongst crowds of people at the baggage claim of the airport, all awaiting their loved ones with eager anticipation. Sisco wondered all of their situations. He wondered if anyone was as worried about their loved ones as Silas was about his loved one.

He hoped Free was okay.

He pulled up the sleeve of his green jacket, looking at the watch on his wrist. 7:40. Free's plane should be landing about now.

He took a sharp breath and straightened himself up a bit, tapping his foot nervously. It was fine. He was overthinking. Free got busy sometimes and genuinely did just forget to respond to messages, which— Sisco would admit, did drive him a little insane. But- multiple days? No, it was fine. Free would be here in a few minutes, and Sisco would get to scold him for not checking his phone. Honestly, he was stuck between being extremely pissed off and extremely worried.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He glanced at the screen after about 40 minutes. Baggage from the flight Free was on was on Carousel 3… His flight had landed. He should be here.

He finally made a move, looking around the crowded airport for his blonde boyfriend. Nothing.

He opted between looking around nervously and staring at the baggage claim, waiting for Free's familiar suitcase to roll out around the Carousel. But that didn't come either.

It was about an hour and a half later when he couldn't take it anymore.

He finally haphazardly jogged up to the information desk, a sense of desperation rushing through him that he hadn't quite felt in a very, very long time.

"Excuse me?!" He shouted, voice shaking with urgency as the woman at the desk turned to face him, giving that warm, customer service smile despite his clearly panicked demeanor. Sisco was not very good at concealing his emotions, not unless he was really repressing himself.

"Uh- what info do you have on the flight from New York? Should have gotten here at like- 7:45??" Sisco pressed, placing his hands on the edge of the desk with an iron grip, shifting back and forth on his feet.

The woman smiled warmly, clearly trying to deescalate a possible tough encounter in a customer service job. "I'll see what I can find for you, one moment…" She began to type on her computer. "Is something wrong?"

"My bo-" Sisco stopped himself. He didn't quite like declaring to most people that him and Free were a thing, he needed to trust them first, to know they were safe enough to give that information to. "My friend was supposed to be on that flight, but- both he and his bag are nowhere to be seen, and- he isn't answering any messages, so-??" He rambled, unable to stop himself from worrying into a spiral.

"Oh, that's not ideal…" The woman frowned, looking over her computer. "Um… Okay, yes, here, Flight 180 from New York. The plane landed here successfully, with no emergencies on board occuring."

"I- I figured that much out, but-" He breathed out a huff. Keep your cool, Sisco. "Did any passengers like- miss the plane or something??"

"I don't entirely think I'm allowed to give out that information…" The woman hesitated, and Sisco felt like he was going to blow a gasket. Don't snap, don't snap, it's not her fault.

"Please, I'm begging you here. Something could have happened, I just need to know if he's still in New York." Sisco argued, trying to keep his cool. "Someone's life could be on the line-!"

The woman sighed. "…Let me talk to my manager and see what I can do, sir. I'll be right back."

More waiting. Lovely.

Sisco spent the next 15 minutes pacing back and forth before the woman came back with yet another woman, and Sisco swore he bounded back to the desk at the level of a golden retriever puppy seeing its owner for the first time in like, three hours.

"Hello, sir, I've been made aware of the circumstances surrounding this, and if you can answer some questions about your passenger, we can provide you with more information…" The manager spoke calmly. She then proceeded to give Sisco a bunch of weirdly specific questions about Free, which he later figured out was simply a matter of security questions within his profile. After Sisco answered majority of them correctly, he was finally given the answer he needed.

"Free De La Hoya did not board the plane, nor did he check into his flight."

It was not the answer he wanted, though.

He was in a haze, managing to get back to the car he had borrowed from Wakiya, and kind of just… Sitting in the driver's seat, his head spinning. He felt like he couldn't breathe right, and he was spiraling with possibilities over what could have happened to Free.

Something had to have happened, right? This wasn't a coincidence. Free went to quit the Raging Bulls, now he wasn't answering Sisco's calls or texts, and he missed his fucking flight??? No, something had to have happened. The only fucking other possibility was that Free had actually hated him the entire time and was just now ghosting him and leaving him for fucking New York- nope, not possible, use your brain, Sisco. Free is direct, he would straight up tell you. Plus, Free's abandonment issues are straight up shit—

His spiraling was interrupted by his phone ringing, and he actually screamed, flinching back into reality by jumping so hard he banged his knee on the steering wheel.

Cussing, he rubbed his knee and glanced at his phone. Wakiya was calling him. Fucking hell…

Sisco took a heavy breath, trying to calm himself down from the spiral in his mind. With shaking hands, he took the phone and pressed the green button, putting it on speaker and then settling it into his lap. He clasped his shaking hands together, trying to breathe. "What?"

"Well, hello to you too." Wakiya huffed on the other end, seemingly appalled by Sisco's audacity. Silas did not give a single fuck right now, to be honest. "How did the pickup go? I do need my car back eventually, you know."

"I want to die."

"Well jeez, I didn't realize you were that attached to the car—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Sisco snapped, his voice cracking pathetically as he began to hyperventilate more prominently. He was met with a moment of silence.

"…Sisco?" Wakiya's voice was a little more cautious now, a little softer. He was clearly picking up on something being seriously wrong. His voice tightened a little with urgency as he spoke, trying to get Sisco to talk to him. "Are you… What's going on? Where are you right now?"

"Free didn't fucking get on the plane." Sisco spat, his talking fast and frantic. he began to bounce his leg, squeezing his eyes shut. "He— He went to fucking talk to Theodore to quit the damned Bulls and he hasn't answered my fucking texts or anything fucking since and that was three fucking days ago holy shit what kind of fucking boyfriend doesn't bat an eye at his boyfriend not answering his texts for three days—"

"Sisco!" Wakiya's sharp voice cut tbrough the rambling, cutting him off. "Take a breath, for the love of god. I don't know how one person can say that much without breathing." He huffed, and then, after a second, spoke again. "Free hasn't answered you in- three days, you said? And he never got on the plane?"

"That's what I just fucking said, idiot!" Sisco yelled. He paused, then took a heavy breath, burying his face in his hands. "…I'm sorry, I-" He felt like he was losing his fucking mind. "I'm worried and I'm losing my shit."

Wakiya sighed. "You're forgiven. Okay- look, do you know for 100% fact that there is no chance he got on the plane?"

Sisco nodded frantically, biting down on his bottom lip. It was silent for a second, then he remembered, oh wait, he's on a phone call, Wakiya can't see him. "Yeah, the- the information- desk lady told me he didn't even check into his flight."

"They're allowed to give out that info??" Wakiya seemed confused. "That- is very surprising. If I were running an airport-"

"Wakiya!"

"Right, yes, sorry." There was some shuffling on the other end, then the sound of a car door shutting. "I'm going to get my driver to drop me off at the airport, I'll come find you. Where are you parked?"

"Uh-" Sisco glanced up, his vision blurred from how dizzy he was from hyperventilating. He opened the car door with shaking hands and tried to lean out without falling, looking around the lot. "…Near- Sections E and F in the- the fucking lot with a roof that you get to with that ramp, the one that's above ground but looks like an underground lot."

"Right." Wakiya reiterated this to his driver, and Sisco shut the door again, pulling the lever at his side to make the seat go flying down. He laid there, hyperventilating.

"I'll be there in about 15 minutes, Sisco. Try to breathe, for the love of god."

"Nh." Sisco squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing heavy. He heard the beeping that indicated Wakiya had hung up, and he proceeded to not try to breathe. He just let himself spiral, practically surrounded by darkness as he let his fatal spiralling flood his mind.

Where the fuck was his deer?

Chapter Text

Four hours after the disappearance of Free De La Hoya.

When it came to certain things within people's business that were not his own, Free De La Hoya never really found himself to be a nosy person. If someone didn't particularly want to tell him something, or they wanted to tell him something and have him not tell anyone, he didn't really find himself feeling the urge to dig into their secrets or go find someone and gossip or anything like that.

Not to mention, rumors. If rumors were ever being spread, Free was typically the type of person to ignore them if the rumors were being spread by strangers, or just quietly take them into account if they were being whispered into his ear by someone close to him. Free preferred to make his own judgements on people, he didn't particularly like letting other people's opinions influence his own. Of course, there were exceptions to this, if the person was genuinely horrible, had really hurt his friends, he was going to believe them.

But that wasn't really the case for… Whatever was going on here.

Sure, he had heard rumors about Theodore, been gently warned by a few people that he should tread lightly around the other man, never get on his bad side due to all the power he withheld. But when Free made the decision to split off from BC Sol to march into America's Raging Bulls, nobody stopped him. Kris let him go, and, sure— Valt protested a lot, but he supposed the one who protested the most was—

"I know you're awake, Free."

What…?

Free's eyes slowly peeled open, and he realized he hadn't even quite registered what was happening around him. The first thing he noticed was the aching in the back of his head, as well as the sticky sensation when he shifted it against the back of the chair he was in. Blood, he assumed. His head must have gotten cut open when he… When…

Wait, what-?

His head shot up, a wave of dizziness and nausea hitting him as he did so. He swallowed thickly, his vision blurred as he narrowed his eyes. This was when he noticed and registered a second thing, which was that his body felt… Very heavy. He felt weighed down, as if there was lead on his bones. He had the urge to just flop down, lay there, and not get up for a while. Jeez, he felt like he was going to throw up…

Taking heavy breaths to try and will away the nausea, he looked up through his eyelashes at the blurry figure in front of him. He blinked a few times, and the figure came into focus. Standing in front of him was a tall, older man in a primarily black outfit with purple accents, a sort of… Half faced mask atop his head that matched, besides red accents that went over the cut out eyes. The mask covered his hair, as well as most of his face besides his jaw and his mouth, which was curled up in a wicked sort of grin that made Free's Grey tufts of hair stuck out from beneath the mask as well, which further reinstated that this was an older man. An older man who seemed to have taken him.

Free also took notice of the room they were in. It was darker, quite grand in size, a sort of triangle- or- maybe diamond shape, Free couldn't see behind him- and had a very tall ceiling. The back wall was covered in strange, black circles, although the rest of the room had a smooth gray surface on the walls that matched the floor. But the most prevalent thing was the massive, green tube in the back middle of the room, with dozens of fat, coloured wires sticking out of it. The sight of such a contraption was a little worrying, especially considering the situation he was in.

Finally, he also realized that there were a few people throughout the room, also wearing similar outfits and masks to this man, just with with different coloured accents. What kind of cult had he gotten himself into?

He pulled upwards, intending to get out of the chair, only to pause and look down upon realizing that he… Couldn't. He blinked as he noted his hands and ankles were tied, his anger only growing. His head snapped up again in a deathly glare, ignoring the second wave of dizziness and nausea. He tried to keep his voice steady, but he was very out of it right now. "Let me go."

The man chuckled, seeming to find Free's escape attempt to be merely amusing. He shook his head in a subtle manner, the smile never leaving his face. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You're not going anywhere. In fact…" He reached into his pocket, shuffling through the few things he had in there. "I'd cooperate if I were you, otherwise something might happen to this."

Free narrowed his eyes, unsure of what this strange man was getting at, but once he whipped something out of his pocket and held it out to Free, Free swore he felt his entire world freeze around him within a second.

Throughout the panic, throughout the haze, it had completely slipped Free's mind that one of Theodore's guards had gotten a hold of Fafnir. And that was currently what was being held out in front of him, by this strange man. A sense of… Not quite desperation, he wouldn't admit to that, but something filled Free's chest. He had half a mind to lean forward, to snap at him to give Fafnir back. But that was more of a Sisco reaction. Free knew, realistically, he wasn't the one with leverage here. He had to tread carefully if he wanted to get, well, what he wanted.

"Give him back." Free said, his voice eerily calm, constrasting the clear as day, firey rage within his eyes. He clearly did not like this man having a hold of his bey, and the man sensed it. He could tell, based on the way he was smirking at Free's words.

"Nothing will happen if you cooperate." The man said with equal, eerie calmness that perhaps surpassed Free's level of tone control. He took a few steps, pacing around Free's chair in a way that resembled a snake surrounding its prey, waiting to make the first move and take a bite. However, snakes typically stalked their prey out of a need for survival. This man was just taunting Free, pacing around him for sheer amusement. Free, however, was still in the exact same boat as a regular snake's prey. Trying his best to survive the attack in whatever manner he knew how.

So, finally, Free gritted his teeth and asked the question he had been trying to… Well, not ask. "…What do you want from me?"

The man gave a cold smile, pausing his pacing in front of the chair. He leaned down to get closer to Free's face, then just ended up dropping to one knee. Like a dad trying to get on the same level as his son both visually and conversationally. Except this was nothing like that.

He pushed his face closer to Free's, and Free really wished he wasn't in a chair so he could lean his head back and get away from him. That didn't stop him from trying, though. This just resulted in the chair tipping backwards, and almost making Free hit his head a second time.

Luckily— or— was it even lucky anymore? The man caught the chair, pulling it back into place and holding it there. "Nice try." He chuckled." "…Anyways. I'm being quite rude, aren't I? I should probably introduce myself…"

He shifted on his feet so he was doing more of a squat (with a bit more of a straightened back) rather than kneeling down, perhaps some sort of feeble attempt to get leverage so Free would feel like he was standing over him. "My name is Ashtem. I am the leader of the organization that you're in right now."

"The Raging Bulls?" Free questioned, effectively cutting him off and raising a brow. This caused the man… Ashtem? Ashtem. This caused Ashtem to blink at Free a few times in surprise, only for his face to quickly freeze back into that cold, calculated smile.

"No." Ashtem chuckled in amusement. "I do know of the leader of the Raging Bulls, but I meant the organization you're physically in right now." He stood up, pulling the chair back to standing and letting go of it, taking a slow step backwards. He spread his arms slightly and smiled wider. "This is where the organization known as The Snake Pit resides. We have the most powerful bladers, and we take in only the best of the best, as well as the strongest. We strive to blah blah blah blah blah…"

Yeah, Free started tuning him out. The strongest bladers? That— literally did not make any sense. He blinked at Ashtem, waiting for him to finally be finished talking, but he just seemed to keep going. Eventually, annoyed with how much his mouth was moving, Free just cut him off again. "Yeah, okay, question."

Free had cut him off mid sentence, and Ashtem blinked again, clearly surprised, then furrowed his eyebrows underneath his mask. Free could practically feel his face drop, watching as his smirk turned into a scowl. "…What?"

"If you have 'the most powerful bladers', then why aren't any of them in The Top 5?" Free challenged, narrowing his eyes and giving his own little smirk. He seemed to have forgotten what his plan was earlier, to keep things de-escalated. No, now his confidence was getting in the way. Ashtem needed him, but he wasn't going to comply. "What, was your plan to kidnap the world's top blader and hope I'd blade for you? Man, and I thought Theodore wanted to keep me with the Bulls… Did you trick him or something?"

Ashtem scowled more. "That's—"

"Mmm. Well, I'm not gonna blade for you." Free shrugged. "Now, give me back Fafnir and let me go, or I'm gonna make sure that your team never sees victory agai—"

"Would you be QUIET?" Ashtem's voice rang out in a surprising outburst, combined with something that Free didn't quite see coming. One of his gloved hands, at the same time as the exclamation, moving to slap Free's cheek, hard.

The attempt to stun Free into silence worked quite well, as Free now had his head jerked to the side, blinking with an almost impressive lack of emotion on his face, the only giveaway being his slightly widened eyes and heavy breathing. Ashtem's breathing was heavier, his hand half-clenched into a claw-like shape mid-air, clearly out of a poorly attempted repression of his anger.

Ashtem sucked in a breath, pressed his lips together, then dropped his hand. He stared at Free for a few seconds before he spoke again. "…Our bladers are making their way up the ranks at a quick pace, whether you like it or not. You are a part of this now, whether you like it or not. If you aren't going to listen, I will make you listen." He took Fafnir out of his pocket and, without hesitation, threw the bey to the ground hard.

Free swore he heard his dragon scream, and he momentarily thought that might be enough to get Fafnir to take form and get them out of this situation.

But he didn't.

Why wasn't that enough…?

"Fafnir!" Free shouted, leaning forward in his seat. He fought against the restraints, and Ashtem chuckled, making a point to stomp on the bey before he picked it back up again. He turned to leave the room, smiling at the sweet sounds of Free struggling and yelling out for his Fafnir, trying to summon him.

"Don't worry, Free. Things will get much worse from here at the rate you're going."

Chapter Text

Three days after Free De La Hoya's disappearance.

When Wakiya had gotten himself to the airport and finally found the car Sisco was hiding out in, he was— well— not really surprised—to find him laying back in the driver's seat, his panic attack no doubt way worse than when Wakiya hung up the phone. Why did he even hang up at all, honestly? That likely wasn't his smartest idea.

Narrowing his eyes as Sisco didn't even quite seem to spot him, he knocked on the window to the passenger side of the car. Normally, in different circumstances, he would have found the way Sisco shot up and screamed like a little girl to be quite hilarious, but given the circumstances, he just raised his eyebrows at him and widened his eyes slightly, prompting him with a nod.

Sisco stared at Wakiya for a moment with a wide eyed expression, blinking hard at the other man, and then he shook his head as if snapping himself out of thought. He reminded Wakiya of a deer in headlights. Turning towards the driver's side door, Sisco pushed the small button on the side to unlock the doors, then flopped down again quite hard. To be honest, at this point? Wakiya couldn't even tell if he was doing it for dramatic effect or not. Cause Sisco was pretty dramatic, but— he was also going through it right now.

Wakiya pulled the door open and pushed himself into the car, the sound of Sisco's hyperventilating filling his ears. He shut the door behind him and stared forward for a good few seconds, then turned his head towards Sisco.

"…Sisco."

Hyperventilating.

"Sisco."

Still no response, or acknowledgement.

Wakiya took a heavy breath and blinked hard, then turned his body completely towards Sisco. He then proceeded to do something that probably wasn't incredibly smart.

"Sisco!" He reached forward, and in one swift motion, he grabbed Sisco by his turtleneck, pulled him up, and slapped him across the face. "Pull yourself together, come on, look at me!"

Sisco let out a very strangled sound, his eyes going wide as his glasses flew off his face from the impact. He completely stopped breathing altogether for a second, blinking hard. He then processed what had just happened, and his face hardened into a glare, hand moving to shove Wakiya into his respective door. "What the actual fucking HELL was that for?!"

Wakiya allowed Sisco to shove him, unphased by both the action and his angry shouting. He turned to reach around his seat into the back to pick up his glasses, huffing and dusting himself off before practically tossing the glasses back at him. "Well, what was I supposed to do?! You weren't looking at me at all, nor acknowledging me. Kind of rude, if you ask me."

"What the actual FUCK is wrong with-?!"

"Apapapapapapa." Wakiya reached his hand forward in a pinching motion, literally using his index finger and thumb to squish Silas' lips shut, making him look like some kind of duck for a second. "Shut up, it worked, didn't it? Are you still losing your shit?? I don't think sooo…"

Sisco practically growled, slapping his arm away and going to yell at him again, but then he paused as he realized he was in fact, no longer hyperventilating. Did Wakiya's bullshit actually work on him-?? For the love of Satan, that's embarrassing. He huffed out, a little calmer now, moving his hand to his cheek and rubbing it. "…There were other ways you could have done that." He spoke through gritted teeth.

Wakiya huffed in return. "Oh boo hoo, it hurts, what, you need me to kiss it better? What is it people say now? Oh, yes, womp wom—"

"Can we focus on the issue at hand here?!" Sisco spat, cutting him off. He was practically fuming with Wakiya's bullshit. "Free is missing!"

"Right, yes." Wakiya sighed a bit, leaning back in his seat. He looked at the roof of the car, tapping his fingers on the center console and sighing. "…So he didn't show up on his flight, and he hasn't been contacting you?"

"Yes! Er- no- for fucks sake- your statement is correct!" Sisco said the last part mockingly, rolling his eyes. "I haven't been able to get a fucking hold of him for the past three days." He leaned back in his seat again and crossed his arms, putting his feet up on the steering wheel. He pretended not to notice the way Wakiya's eye twitched when he did this. "Free has his moments where he needs space, so it's not super unusual if I don't hear back from him for a bit, but like— he texts me at least once a day, minimum, if not, like— every other day! Him going three days without texting is like— really worrying. OH, and—" Sisco shot up, sticking up his finger and getting closer to Wakiya. "He was trying to quit the Bulls. So I know damned well—"

"Wait, what?? Hold on, Free was trying to quit the Bulls??" Wakiya raised an eyebrow, which devolved into some sort of small, thoughtful smirk. "Oh, Free would be an amazing candidate for Sunbat United—"

"No, idiot, he left because he wants to rejoin BC Sol, are you stupid?!"

"Oh-! For—" Wakiya huffed, shoving himself back into his seat and looking straight forward. He crossed his arms, and he quite literally just started pouting. "Fine, fine! He was trying to—" he lowered his voice to a quiet, more mocking tone, narrowing his eyes in a very bitter matter. "Quit the Raging Bulls."

Sisco rolled his eyes. "Yes. And— fuck, where was I… Uh… Right, he was saying Theodore was— giving him some weird ass vibes!" He shook his hands as he talked, and Wakiya paused his pouting to stare judgementally at Sisco for the way he conveyed his thoughts. "So— I don't know, that's literally the last conversation we had! Free telling me over text he was going to talk to Theodore, and then— BOOM!" He clapped his hands together, and Wakiya jumped a mile.

"Can you NOT—"

"RADIO silence, he doesn't get on his flight, he is somewhere in fucking New York, America, what the hell do we do, Wakiya?!" He sharply turned his gaze to Wakiya, leaning forward intensely and staring at the other man with wide, expectant eyes.

Wakiya blinked, taking a moment to shift himself backwards so Sisco's head wasn't so close to his personal bubble, then he shoved Sisco's forehead away to double down on this. He sighed, dusting himself off dramatically. "Well… We could always just- go to America and look for him." Wakiya said, adjusting his jacket with narrowed eyes. The statement made Sisco's eyes widen.

"Wait— yeah-! Your private jet! Shit, fucking please, Wakiya?? I need to find Free as soon as humanly fucking possible, you do not understand—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it-!" Wakiya cut him off with a heavy sigh, shaking his head quickly in such a manner that— well, you would think Wakiya was physically shaking something off. But in reality, he was just shaking off Sisco's yapping. "I'll see what I can do, yes, but—" He sighed. "I need to actually ask my father before we can use the jet."

Sisco paused, raising a brow. "Your dad—?? Shit, why?"

Wakiya sighed. "Oh, I don't know…" He pressed his palm to his cheek. "Something about emissions, apparently if we fly too often it may just look bad for our image, make us look like we don't give two damns about the environment, so… He's trying to limit my usage."

Sisco blinked. "Doesn't he fly around way more often than you do-??"

"Yes." Wakiya huffed, rolling his eyes. He leaned back in his seat again, crossing his arms. "So unfortunately, we're going to have to go back to my house first."

Sisco sighed. "Seriously-?? Okay-" he moved to fish the keys out of his pocket. "It's fine, we'll just run to your house, talk to your oh so concerned dad, get the fuck on the jet, and—"

He cut himself off as he pulled out the keys, and Satan accidentally fell from his pocket. This wasn't what made him cut himself off, but rather, it was what happened a second later. Satan hit against the buckle next to the seat, and Sisco heard a visceral roar that made pain shoot through his entire head.

"Ah— fuck-!" Sisco cursed, moving to bury his face in his hands for a second. Wakiya paused, furrowing his brows at him in concern.

"…What? What now??"

Sisco took a few heavy breaths, then moved to pick up Satan, dropping the keys into his lap and cupping the beyblade within his palms. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at it, moving to rub his forehead with one hand.

The roaring kept going, and Sisco slowly began to pick up on bits and pieces of it. Namely just—

"Fafnir! Fafnir, Fafnir!"

Sisco blinked, his gaze hardening as his heartrate picked up a bit. Satan was calling out for Fafnir, over and over, in such a desperate, raging, nearing on protective manner. It was in the same manner that someone would call out to their lover if someone else was beating the living shit out of them, and they couldn't do anything about it.

"Satan, what the fuck is—" Sisco stammered, but Satan didn't even seem to hear him. He was just calling out, over and over again. Satan wouldn't respond to him in this state, so he couldn't get to the bottom of it. But if something was wrong with Fafnir, it meant something was very likely wrong with Free.

He quickly re-pocketed Satan, pressing his foot to the brake of the car and turning the keys into the ignition.

"We need to move, now."

Chapter Text

Three days after the disappearance of Free De La Hoya.

Time was a really weird thing when you had absolutely nothing to pass it with. Nobody to talk to, no sun or moon to look at to determine how many hours had passed within a period. This was how his friends who had gone to school had told him it felt to be in a classroom with no clock, sitting and waiting for the hour to pass before you could pick up your bag and break out into freedom, out of the trap that was the school system.

Free had always thought public school sounded just like that, a trap. Something constricting, something where you couldn't be in charge of what things you had to do, what places you went at what times. Free would have been an awful student.

But compared to this? Maybe public school didn't quite sound so bad after all. At least there, there were windows to look out of, people to converse with, books to read and doodle in, a voice teaching you information that you could choose to listen to or choose to tune out.

It sort of reminded him of BC Sol, now that he thought about it. It was kind of like what their briefings were like, the meetings they had that didn't involve actively beyblading. Maybe BC Sol was like a school, but one with less restrictions, one that cared about its students. Heh. Kris as a teacher was an amusing thought.

Free finally managed to annoy someone enough to find out how many days it had been since he had gotten here. Three days. Three days of being stuck in this chair minus the two or three times a day they took him to the bathroom. Three days of no exercise, no relaxation, no people. Three days of not being able to have his usual diet of foods, having to be handfed by guards— well— okay, they stopped doing that on the first day after Free almost bit a guard's finger off, but regardless. He was starting to feel deranged, starting to lose himself a bit.

But most significantly, three days since he had spoken to Sisco about what he was going to be doing.

If it had actually been three days, it made Free feel a little more hopeful, albeit only a little. Why? Because today was the day he was supposed to go back to Spain, to talk to Kris about rejoining BC Sol and finding his happiness and inner peace again. This meant Sisco or Kris or— whoever was supposed to pick him up, would turn up at the airport and find Free wasn't there. Find that he had never boarded his flight, and realize something must be wrong.

He wanted to go back to BC Sol. He wanted to go back to his friends, he wanted Ange's cooking, and he wanted to beyblade again. Gods, he really hoped Fafnir was okay… He hadn't seen him since that first night. He finally gave up on shouting and fighting after his voice was giving out, and frankly, he was incredibly exhausted.

They hadn't even wanted him to leave in the first place. Well— Kris accepted it, Kris let him leave. He had been thinking about this a few days ago, hadn't he? Right, he had, but he was interrupted. Valt had been very prominent in not letting him leave, but the most prominent person of all was Sisco.

He took a heavy breath and shifted in the chair, closing his eyes. He was so tired…

He remembered that night clear as day. He didn't think it was one he would ever forget. With that and— well, the sleep deprived delusion, he fell into a half hazed daydream as he remembered the night where it all began for them.

It was the night Free declared he was going to leave BC Sol, deep within his usual forest. Sisco had overheard Free's conversation with Kris, carefully waiting things out. Sisco had been in a frenzy as he followed Free into the forest, out of breath and heart pounding as the only idiot he could stand threatened to walk away from him. The sky was dark, a few clouds scattered throughout, however, it was few enough to where the stars could still be seen glimmering down over them.

"FREE!" Sisco had yelled, running as fast as he could after the other male. His feet crunched against the leaves, pushing past a bush as Free paused in front of him, slowly turning around to face him. Sisco halted once he got close enough, hunching forward with his hands on his knees. The green haired male panted and heaved, trying to gather himself.

"Fucking— hell—" He gasped. Free had just stared at him, expression unmoving. The only hint of emotion on his face was the smallest quirk of his brow, intrigued and confused by whatever Sisco was doing.

A few beats of silence, and then Sisco shot up, pointing an accusatory finger at Free. "You're fucking leaving?!"

Free blinked, the small raise of his brow slipping away. "…Yeah." He said, his voice quiet, matching the gentle energy of the greenery surrounding them. "What of it?"

"What the hell, Free?!" Sisco had exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side. Free just blinked again, taking note of just how much Sisco moved and swung his arms around when he talked. It was mildly amusing. Although, Free couldn't say he didn't expect this reaction from others when he made the decision to leave the team. Sisco continued, growing more frustrated, "You can't just— you-!" He suddenly reached into his pocket, whipping out Satan and thrusting the bey out to Free. "Battle me!"

The silent quirk of Free's brow had returned, and Sisco shouted again. "Fucking battle me, and if I win, you stay!"

Free had sighed, closing his eyes and lowering his head slightly. He shifted to completely face Sisco, raising his head again and opening his eyes. "…There's no point. We both know how that's going to end."

"Try me!" Sisco practically spat out the words like venom, thrusting Satan closer to Free's face. Free was unphased. "Battle me, dammit!"

Free had sighed, blinking slowly. "…Alright, if that's your idea of fun…"

It was safe to say, Sisco lost quite horribly.

As Fafnir bursted Satan and the score went to three points for Free (with zero to Sisco, flawless victory on Free's part) it felt like Sisco's entire world was bursting before his very eyes. Not just the bey in front of him.

"FUCK!" Sisco fell to his knees and hunched over, hands tangling into his hair. Free just stared at him again.

After a moment, Free sighed and leaned down to pick up Fafnir, who was still spinning. "…Well, I did tell you. We both knew how that would end." He stood up again, pocketing Fafnir. "…Guess that's that, then." He turned to leave, but Sisco's head shot up.

"Hey, hold on!" Sisco rose with rising urgency, running towards Free at top speed and grabbing his arm. Not hard enough to hurt him, but firm enough to get his attention.

Free blinked, pausing in place. He turned his head towards Sisco, his eyes squinting in the slightest narrow.

"Why are you doing this-??" Sisco had asked, his expression urgent. It was clear he was desperate to not have Free leave. To leave him. He was so confused. What was making Free leave like this?? Was it him? Was it everyone else? Fuck, he would kill whoever the fuck had managed to make Free feel like he needed to—

"Team's better off without me." Free replied, his voice deadpan, as if this were just another casual conversation.

Sisco blinked.

What?

"…What the fuck are you talking about??" Sisco stepped closer, unconsciously pulling Free a little closer as well. "What the hell is making you say that, are you dense?? We need you on this team, you're— you're—" He sputtered, shaking his free arm around to try and convey what he was saying, though the words wouldn't seem to come into his mind. "You're so fucking needed it's insane, are you stupid?!"

Free shook his head a bit, taking in a slow breath, as if he were too tired to deal with this. He glanced away, eyes narrowing. "It's… You don't get it, it-"

"Then make me get it." Sisco spat, his chest heaving with weighted breaths. He was determined to know what was going on in Free's head, he needed to understand.

Free responded by pulling his arm away from Sisco, turning to leave again. He didn't quite know how to handle this, so he treated it the same way he treated a fan who was begging to battle him, over and over until their voice went raw; ignorance. "See ya."

"I care about you!" Sisco suddenly shouted.

Free stopped walking.

He stared forward, blinking very slowly in surprise. "…What?"

"I care about you." Sisco heaved, eyes narrowing. He took in a deep breath, and Free noticed it was shakier. "You're the damned reason I joined this team. It-" Sisco got quieter, feeling a lot more nervous all of a sudden. More vulnerable. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked away. "…BC Sol is the first damned team that I've ever felt like I belonged it. But without you, it—" Sisco brain was swimming, trying not to spiral into a mess of overthinking. "…There's not a place— not a reason for me here if you leave."

Free was silent for a moment. A lot of people had told him things like that over the years. 'Free, you're the reason I started beyblading', 'Free, it's an honor to be in your presence', 'Free, to battle you is my dream', 'I came here just to meet you, Mr. De La Hoya', 'Free', 'Free', 'Free'.

But Sisco knew him, Sisco was around him a decent amount, it felt…

Free shook his head. "…You should find a new reason, Sisco." He went to walk away.

Unfortunately for him, though, Sisco Karlisle was incredibly stubborn. The firm grip on his arm came back, and Sisco pulled him enough that Free was caught off guard and whipped around to face him. the blonde blinked at Sisco, but didn't move.

"Fuck a new reason." Sisco shook his head, somehow out of breath from the effort of this conversation. "I don't want one, I—" He clenched his jaw. "You're gonna leave me to handle all those idiots by myself?? You're the only damned person I can stand to be around for longer than a few hours." Maybe he was exaggerating a little, but he was trying to make a point. "If you're leaving, there's no place for me here, I- I'm coming with you." He said sharply, his voice cracking a little. Free could see right through him, though. Sisco was lost, Sisco didn't know who he was, and… Well, Free was the only thing that seemed to make him feel like there was a home for him. He was desperate to chase him, desperate to follow it. Did he really care that much?

Too much. He cared too much.

"Sisco…" Free breathed out a sigh, trying to gentle his tone just a little bit. He wasn't too great at this, but he wanted to try… "They are idiots, I'll agree with that much, but…" He glanced off in the direction of the forest that trailed back to the BC Sol dorms, said direction happenignt o be right behind Sisco. "…Maybe you're the dense one."

Sisco blinked, his eyebrows narrowing into an angry, defensive expression. "What—?!"

"They care about you." Free said, not taking his eyes off the trees behind Sisco. He lifted his head, temporarily admiring the texture of the pine needles in this particular tree. "They have a weird way of showing it, sure, but… They care a lot about you. And… I dunno." He shrugged. "If you open yourself up to it, really see what they're trying to do… I think you'll realize your home is here, I can see that as much as anyone."

He finally looked at Sisco again, hesitating before moving his left hand underneath Sisco's chin, holding it gently between his pointer finger and his thumb as he made Sisco look at him. He practically felt the warmth rushing to the green haired man's cheeks, his eyes widening slightly in a very flustered expression. Free exhaled. "Don't… Leave your home because of me. Your home is more than just me. It's this team."

"…Why are you doing this?" Sisco whispered, his voice unusually nervous and quiet, completely frozen as Free held his chin. "It's gonna be a shitshow. People are gonna leave if you…"

Free glanced away for a moment, thinking back to the very brief conversation he had with Theodore back at the tournament. It really made him think about the potential the team would have if he wasn't… If they didn't…

Free looked back at Sisco, taking a breath. "They'll grow more without me around. It'll be tough at first, but… Kris can handle it." He chuckled. "You all can, you're… Strong." He murmured, his eyes flickering to Sisco's lips, which just made Sisco redder.

"Free…" Sisco whispered, his breathing trembling.

And then suddenly, Free moved his other hand to his shoulder and moved closer, gently pulling him in, and kissing him.

Sisco felt like his heart stopped, his eyes widening and his breath hitching as he in fact, forgot how to breathe. It took him a few seconds to lock the fuck in, but he closed his eyes and kissed back, one shaking hand sliding to Free's hip to hold onto him. After a few seconds, he slid his other hand up to Free's cheek, his heart pounding in his chest.

It lasted about five seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Free was the one who pulled back, his own breath hitching and his face red. He stared at Sisco, both of them extremely flustered. It was a few seconds before any movement happened at all.

It was Free who moved again, pulling backwards from the warm touch despite not really wanting to. Sisco blinked hard, still frozen.

"I—" Free stared at him for a second, his heart pounding. He suddenly turned away, taking a heavy breath. "I'll— see you around." He hastily pushed forward, his mind racing as he shoved through a bush and past a few trees.

Sisco finally snapped out of it, shaking his head "Wait, Free—!" He called out to him, physically reaching out, but Free was already gone. (Unbeknownst to him, he was just hiding behind a tree, but…)

Sisco breathed heavily, moving a shaky hand to touch his lips and then staring down at said hand. He wanted to kiss Free again and again…

Looking back towards the BC Sol dorms, then off in the direction Free ran in, he stayed frozen, completely unsure of what to do.

What… The fuck was that?

The sound of a door opening snapped Free out of his thoughts. He lifted his head, blinking back into reality. Back in that room, with the weird tube and the sciency equipment. Gods, he was tired, he wanted to go home. Not to mention, he had no idea where Fafnir was. He wasn't sure why on that first day, or even right when he was taken, Fafnir hadn't been able to take his physical form and get them out of the situation. What had they done for him to not be able to…

"Good morning." Ashtem's calm voice rang in his ears, the man moving in front of Free, so unfortunately, Free was now looking at him. Such a loss, really.

"…Is it morning?" Free questioned, raising a brow sarcastically at Ashtem, as well as the tray he was holding with a bowl of some sort on it. He hoped not. If that was the case, it had probably been closer to four days that he was in here, fuck… If that guard was even telling him the truth, that is. What if he was lying out of his ass? Free was already losing track of time…

"I'm sure you'd love to know." Ashtem gave a fake smile, putting the tray down and picking up the bowl. It looked like some sort of soup… Ashtem picked up the bowl, quickly moving it to Free's mouth. "Drink." He grabbed Free's jaw and tried to pull it open, but Free wrenched his head away.

"What the hell—" Free muttered through gritted teeth, but Ashtem turned his head back to face him, then snapped his fingers to get one of the guards to come over. He pointed at Free's nose, and the guard nodded, moving his hand to pinch Free's nose.

Eventually, after a good twenty seconds, Free was forced to open his mouth to breathe, and Ashtem took the opportunity to shove the bowl into his mouth and tip it so Free was forced to drink— whatever thick liquid this was. It didn't taste great, but it wasn't the worst thing ever. Regardless, Free gagged, since he was basically having an entire, thick soup poured down his throat without a single chance to even breathe or swallow. He had already been holding his breath for like the past 30 seconds, and barely got one gasp in before the liquid was being poured. What even was this??

Free felt like he was going to actually throw up when the bowl was finally pulled away from his mouth, which— by the way, wasn't done until all of the soup was down his throat and gone, and he ended up just keeling over, gasping and coughing. Part of him wanted to allow himself to throw up to get whatever this was out of him, but he also knew if he did, Ashtem likely wouldn't clean it, and would just leave him sitting in his own filth. He'd like to avoid that, if he could…

"What— was that?!" Free exclaimed, gagging and taking a few heavy, gasping breaths. Ashtem just chuckled.

"Oh, nothing that'll hurt you, don't you worry. I want you in decent condition if you're going to keep blading for Theodore at any point." He said, rolling his eyes. "It'll just relax you a little, stop you from being so tense. It was just soup."

Free breathed heavily, his eyebrows furrowing in a glare. "You're not very good at cooking, huh?" He muttered, fighting the urge to turn his head and spit on the ground to try and get the taste out of his mouth. Jeez, Sisco was rubbing off on him.

Ashtem chose to ignore him, rolling his eyes. "Are you going to reconsider your decision to leave the Raging Bulls, or are you going to make this difficult for us?"

Free breathed heavily, clenching his fists. He kenw he shouldn't be wasting his energy getting worked up, but he was just so tired, he was hungry for some actual fucking food, and he wanted out. Not to mention, maybe if he showed his full strength, Fafnir could come back to him. They could get out, they could go home. He felt the familiar sensation of his arms, particularly the feeling he got when he was channeling his energy into putting his all into a beyblade launch. Veins portruded from his arms, and he stared through his eyelashes at Ashtem in a nasty glare, letting out a laugh. He was wickedly smiling, despite the circumstances he was stuck in. He wasn't breaking, not yet, he was just trying to intimidate.

"Never in a million years am I even going to think about going back there after this." Free declared through his practical grin of insanity, his breathing heavy. Despite the familiar sensations, the yellow aura that typically came from him during these moments did not appear. This worried Free slightly, as the aura was connected to his bond with Fafnir, but he didn't let it show on his face. "It's time to stop this, let me go."

Ashtem didn't flinch. He just chuckled, sounding amused. "Have it your way…" He murmured, shaking his head. "You'll burn yourself out quickly, and after you have a nap, I'm sure we can find a compromise…" He smiled.

Just then, Free heard the door open again, and a voice called out to Ashtem. The voice sounded… Familiar, but Free couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Ashtem. One of the bladers broke something in the gym again."

Ashtem's face fell into a scowl, and he sighed. "And you can't deal with this yourself, Red Eye?"

"The lat pulldown machine fell onto someone's leg. Medical assistance is needed."

Ashtem sighed, shaking his head and looking at Free. Upon locking eyes with him, that smile came back. "…We'll convene after. Sleep well."

He moved behind Free, and the blonde took a heavy breath as he heard the door close, lowering his head. He sat in silence, his head swirling.

Where was Fafnir? Why was everything off with their bond right now? The bey didn't look shattered when it got stomped on, so he was… Alive, and normally Fafnir could take a lot, it didn't make sense…

After a little bit of pondering, Free began to feel… Heavier. More tired. He took a heavy breath, trying to fight the exhaustion washing over him. Fuck, was this- what Ashtem was talking about? No… Fuck, he had to stay awake…

But unlike all of his beyblade battles, this was a battle he lost. Despite his fight, after around ten minutes, everything was too heavy. His body was impossibly weighted, it felt like an effort to even hold his head up, let alone keep his eyes open.

Everything slowly faded into darkness, and it was safe to say, Free had no idea what he was in for soon enough.

Chapter Text

Three days after the disappearance of Free De La Hoya.

When Sisco and Wakiya pulled up to the manor that Wakiya resided in, Sisco was desperate for some answers. Tan coloured walls and a blue roof were laid out upon the gated lot, the manor probably as big as the BC Sol Dorms themselves. Maybe bigger. Sisco had always envied how Wakiya had gotten so much space for himself, especially since he had gotten a few years to experience it when he was a kid. Sure, he was welcome back anytime, but… Rich people were insane, Sisco knew that much.

The pair hadn't been able to originally decide on who should drive back from the airport, as— well, Wakiya wasn't a great driver, he'd never needed to be, he could just get someone else to drive him wherever his heart desired— and Silas could drive, but he was in such a frenzy, and Satan was giving him a migraine. It was moreso Wakiya and Sisco loudly bickering, both insisting on driving the car.

"You can't even drive, you fucking spoiled ass rich kid—"

"You are literally going to snap into another dimension and get us both killed, Sisco!"

"You don't even have a LICENSE, you STUPID—"

Sisco ended up winning.

So here they were, driving into the gates of Wakiya's manor, Wakiya directing Sisco to park at one specific area in the large, paved road that surrounded the manor, right next to the motorbike Sisco had left there upon picking up the car. The road was a very light grey, almost pure white. Sisco was always astonished at how they could keep it so clean. Well— power washing was a miracle, he supposed.

He shifted the car into park, then turned to Wakiya and raised a brow. "Okay, now what?" He watched the other man unbuckle his seatbelt— Sisco hadn't bothered to wear one, which Wakiya was scolding him for because oh god what if they get pulled over he's already driving illegally without a supervisor— but Sisco just told him he was a quivering pussy who needed to grow a pair and Wakiya gave up.

Wakiya pushed the door open and stepped out of the car, Sisco following suit. The blonde sighed, gesturing towards his house. "Now we hope my father is both home, and in a good mood."

Stepping through the halls of Wakiya's massive manor brought Sisco back to when he was a little kid all those years ago, and Wakiya's family had taken him in. He had been about 7 or 8, and he had resided here til he was about 10 or 11. Then he started travelling on his own, trying to find his own sense of self. Since then, though, he had been in and out of the manor, always having a room within and… Well… A brother to call his own. Thinking back on it, it was surprising that Wakiya's father had allowed someone as young as him to just travel all alone, but Wakiya's dad never really cared about anything they did, so…

Wakiya was quietly muttering to himself under his breath, some stuff that Sisco didn't really understand. He seemed like he was in a bad mood, but Sisco wasn't really focused on Wakiya's dramatics right now. He just needed to get to America, get to the clubhouse where the Bulls resided, and figure out what was going on.

Wakiya marched up to someone who was very clearly a staff member of some sort, placing his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows. "Hey, do you happen to know where my father is??"

The staff member was a brown haired male, about a head taller than Wakiya, and on the skinnier side. He wore a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and had darker blue eyes. He blinked at Wakiya, then nodded. "Last I saw, he was in his office."

Wakiya gave a brisk nod, then turned to walk away. "Thank you."

Sisco stumbled after Wakiya, before quickening his pace to match his brother's. He narrowed his eyes, the two gradually speeding up their pace towards the office until they were speedwalking as fast as they could, and Sisco was the one who was leading the pair.

Soon, they were in front of the office door, and Wakiya went to throw it open, before pausing and rolling his eyes, straightening out and then knocking on the door. "Father? It's me." He said, his voice a little quieter and less cocky than normal, but the furrow of his eyebrows still present.

After a few moments, there was a response. "Come in."

Wakiya took a deep breath, adjusted his jacket, forced himself to relax, then pushed the door open and walked in, Sisco trailing behind him at a slower pace with his hands in his pockets.

The office was quaint, a small wooden room with bookshelves in the back, a marbled floor that made Wakiya's heels click on impact, a grand window on the right side that allowed bright daylight to shine into the office, and a big, glass desk in the middle which was shockingly spotless, a silver coaster set down with a white mug on it. Behind the desk sat an older man, with blackened hair up in a quiff and a chevron mustache that resembled that of Steve Harvey, hit host of Family Feud. He wore a dark grey suit with thin, white vertical stripes.

He was staring down at a laptop that was in the middle of the desk, typing away at something, but as Wakiya carefully walked up, he glanced up, saved whatever he was doing, then folded his hands together and looked at Wakiya. He did not give him the respect of completely closing the laptop, but he gave him enough to look at him while he was talking to him. "Do you need something?"

"Yes." Wakiya moved forward until he was standing in front of the desk, locking eyes with his father. It had always intrigued Wakiya how his father's eyes were a lighter blue, compared to his own duller blue eyes. "I need to use the jet. It's an emergency."

His fathers eyebrow raised ever so slightly, before it dropped again. "Oh? And what sort of emergency could be so important you feel the need to ignore the rules?"

"Well-! I— my friend, he—"

"Yes." The man stood up from behind the desk, staring at Silas. He gave a small bow as a greeting, raising his eyebrow again at him. "…Always… Lovely to see you, Sisco." He said.

"That's not-! Not him, you know Sisco isn't just-!!" Wakiya exclaimed, clenching his hands into a claw sort of shape for a moment before he took a deep breath, shaking his head. "It— is a different friend—"

"You do realize you are purposefully breaking the rules I have set in place for you, yes? I don't see what could be so important that you feel the need to—"

"It's Free De La Hoya!" Wakiya cut him off, which made the older man stare at him with a face that basically questioned his audacity. Wakiya kept going, afraid he wouldn't be able to speak anymore if he stopped now. "Sisco told me that Free was supposed to show up on a flight that should have arrived about—" he checked his watch. "Three hours ago! He also has been unresponsive for the last three days, and we need to go to America and see what's going on!"

Wakiya's dad stared at him, his face twisting into something different. Surprise, for a second, then a brief flash of— recognition? Then his face hardened again.

"Do not interrupt me when I am speaking. That is incredibly disrespectful." He said coldly, making a point to look down his nose at his son. "You are lucky I have even granted you use of the jet at all. As for using it now, the answer is no, and that is final. We were kind enough to take the son of the Karlisles in when he had no home, but we are not able to solve all of his… Affairs." He side eyed Sisco, then looked at Wakiya again. "I will not be tainting the family image for your benefit."

Wakiya opened his mouth and closed it, and Sisco just stared at the older man. What was that, why did his behaviour shift the way it did?? His face, he—

"Why not?!" Sisco suddenly spat. "He's your son, isn't he?!" He marched up, slamming his hand on the glass desk. "You are perfectly capable of helping us, but you're not! And what the hell is up with—"

"Remove. Your. Hand." Wakiya's father's voice was quiet, but it practically boomed throughout the room regardless. Sisco just stared at him, challenging him.

"Remove it right this instant or Wakiya is cut off." His father declared. Sisco caught Wakiya tensing slightly in the corner of his eye.

"Cut off how?" Sisco questioned, glaring at Wakiya's father.

"Financially. You really wish to push this, Karlisle?"

Sisco narrowed his eyes further. Not wanting to get more people he cared about hurt, he removed his hand, shaking it off with a huff and stepping back. A smudge remained on the usually pristine desk from his glove.

Wakiya's fathers eyes darkened, and he pointed to the door. "Go."

Speedwalking out of the manor, Sisco could not be more agitated. Nothing in that situation had gone his way, they were zero steps closer to getting Free back, and Wakiya was fucking shouting in his ear.

"Are you actually insane?!" Wakiya was shouting, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why the hell would you get all shouty shout on him?! I could have convinced him if you hadn't lost your temper like a little bitch! You know he's been more harsh on me since—"

"Shut the fuck up, this was a stupid fucking idea!" Sisco marched over to his motorcycle, sitting down on it. He scrambled for his helmet, and Wakiya hastily stopped beside the bike.

"What are you doing now?!"

"I'm going back to the airport, I'm getting a damned ticket, and I'm going to America!"

"With what money, idiot?!" Wakiya shouted. "Not to mention, you have zero luggage!"

"I don't need anything!" Sisco spat. "I'll just— sneak on the fucking plane or something!"

"Oh sure, admit to a crime in front of my VERY CAMERA COVERED HOUSE!"

"I AM GOING TO KILL—" Sisco was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. He rolled his eyes and fished into the pocket, taking the phone- which Wakiya's family had actually bought for him, and looking at the caller.

Kris.

…Well, shit.

Chapter Text

Five days after the disappearance of Free De La Hoya.

Free wasn't really someone who had incredibly vivid dreams. Sometimes he dreamt he was in his forest, sitting by a stream, his eyes closed and a calm sense of ease flowing over him, similar to the water in front of him. He was deep within meditation in those dreams, just enjoying what flowed through, and letting it happen. Sometimes his deer would walk over and sit next to him, but it usually would only be for a few minutes before she got up and left again. Free understood, meditation could be quite boring if you didn't understand it.

Other times, he just dreamt of nothing at all. He was surrounded by a black void, blissfully unaware of anything happening around him. And— well, that's sort of what was happening right now. Sort of. Except… It felt off.

He was surrounded by darkness, but at the same time, completely aware of his own body. Laying on his back in a starfish like position, everything felt so heavy, and he couldn't move, no matter how much he tried. It scared him, it made him feel trapped. Free De La Hoya did not like to be trapped. He was actually quite claustrophobic, believe it or not. If he was stuck in a space that he physically could not get out of, it would send him into a bit of a panic. If he was in a small space and he was able to get out whenever he wanted, it was a little better. However, in this case, he was completely stuck, he had zero control over when and if he got out, and he felt dazed. He didn't know what was going on.

Off in the distance, he heard a faint roar. A very faint one, and he only could register it because he was straining his ears for any noise around him, any possible audio to confirm that he wasn't alone and could be broken out of this.

The roar sounded pained, and Free blinked slowly, his eyes heavy.

"Faf…nir…"

When Free felt like he had finally broken out of the void he was trapped in, his head snapped up upon awakening, his breath coming in a sharp gasp. It was only then that he realized what was going on.

His body was completely submerged in liquid, yet for some reason, he could still breathe. He was floating, his eyes snapping shut on instinct before one slowly opened. It was then he realized where he was.

He was still in the same room as before, he could see the chair he had been tied to down below. But… Now he was in the giant green tube that he had been looking at for several days in a row. What was this liquid?

He opened his other eye, lifted his head to look up, then down, then forward again. His eyes landed on a small group of people below, all wearing similar masks. Ashtem also stood there, and he smiled upon seeing Free. His mouth began to move, but Free couldn't hear what he was saying.

After a minute, Ashtem walked over to the control panel in the middle, pressing down on a button. A speaker rang through the top and bottom of the tube he was in. "I was wondering when you would wake up. You've been asleep for… So long. Perhaps I gave you too much of that relaxant."

Free took a sharp breath, his heart pounding. "What the actual-"

"Ah, I'm afraid I can't hear from down here." The voice spoke. Free caught Ashtem's smile widening, and he really wanted to go down there and tear that mask off. "You'll just have to keep your words to yourself, I'm afraid…" He hummed. "Don't worry, though. You shouldn't be conscious for much longer, not within that liquid. This is a prototype, something I need to run some tests on… And seeing how you're refusing to cooperate with me, you are the perfect guinea pig." He smiled again.

Free huffed out and squeezed his eyes shut, squirming in the tank. He wanted to get out, he needed to get out-

"The first simulation should commence shortly. Just try to relax, and, well… Try to survive, will you? I haven't quite figured out what happens if you get yourself seriously hurt in there…"

What did that mean? What did that mean? Free didn't quite have time to think about it, his breathing heavy as he began to process how weightless he really was within this… substance. It made him panic, but also… Tired. So very tired…

He was really started to develop a hatred for the feeling of being tired, or being forced into a sleep he couldn't get out of. He grunted, his eyes fluttering, and before he knew it, he was too tired to keep himself awake anymore. He heard Ashtem's muffled voice saying something, but he couldn't quite process it. Reck… Reck…

The next moment Free opened his eyes, he let out a loud gasp, his eyes going wide and his body jumping. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked around, struggling to assess his surroundings. Where the fuck was he now? He didn't quite know if he could take much more of this—

…Wait.

He faltered in his panic as he realized he was… In the familiar forest back in Spain. The one near the BC Sol dorms that he had grown so used to and comforted by. Looking around, Free realized he was surrounded by greenery, the trees engulfing him in a way that felt way more comforting than normal. He was sat by a stream, the same one he always dreamed of, the green grass gently swaying in the breeze and the sun shining through the leaves, the area mostly shaded but the bits of sun that did peak through leaving a pleasant warmth that washed over him. His heart pounded, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He also, most notably, wasn't tied up. He was completely free to move, nothing restricting him. He stared at his hands, blinking with confusion. What… How was he here? He was just… Where had he just been, actually? Hm. He must have been meditating for a while, he couldn't quite remember what he was doing before… Why was his heart pounding so—

"Free!" A voice called out, making the blonde quickly turn his head in confusion to look behind him. There was a gentle rustling, crunching leaves audible from under someone's feet, Coming through the clearing of bushes was none other than his green haired boyfriend, and Free exhaled slowly. Why was he so on edge…?

"Think your— deer dude hates me." Sisco grumbled, dusting off his arms. Free blinked at him, then shook his head a bit to snap himself out of it and inhaled.

"…Does she now?" He murmured, turning his head to glance at Sisco and raising a brow, watching as Sisco rolled his eyes in response.

"Yeah. Long story, she led me to ya, though." Sisco looked down at Free, raising his own eyebrow and placing his hands on his hips. "Y'good-? You're pale as hell right now." He tutted a bit. "Did you fall asleep out here again? Someday that's gonna get you sick, Free."

Free blinked, then shook his head and glanced away. "I'm fine, just a weird meditation session…" He hoped… Something felt very off.

Sisco narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him, then shrugged and went to sit down next to him. "Mkay." He flopped down, quiet for a moment. As Free sat still, quietly trying to figure out why everything felt so off, Sisco glanced at him from the corner of his eyes a few times, clearly contemplating. After a bit of deciding, Sisco stretched up his arms in a yawn and then dropped them down, 'conveniently' landing one around Free's shoulders.

Free blinked, glancing over at Sisco and raising a brow, a slightly amused smile appearing on his lips. "…Really?"

"Mm, what?" Sisco muttered, pretending to be picking at his nails— even though he was wearing gloves— and opening his palm to look at the back of his hand, humming in a faked nonchalance. "I didn't do anything."

Free stared at him for a second, almost stunned by this man's sheer stupidity, then shook his head and rolled his eyes, sighing and moving to lean his head against Sisco's shoulder. Something about the warm embrace made him sink just a little more into it. Like he was deprived of it. He still… Wasn't quite sure why…

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself. He felt Sisco's fingers shift into his hair to gently massage his scalp, and Free relaxed a little.

"You're like… So tense." Sisco murmured, pressing his lips into Free's hair and exhaling slowly. He dragged his fingers gently through the messy blonde hair, humming softly. "You sure you're good?"

Free opened his eyes ever so slightly and then shut them again, exhaling out in a low hum. "M'fine…" He affirmed, his voice a low murmur. He was starting to relax more now that he was under Sisco's wing. He just felt unusually on edge and he wasn't quite sure why. But he didn't want Sisco to know that.

"Mh." Sisco placed a gentle kiss into his hair, moving his hand down to rub his back. He spoke using the softer tone he only really reserved for being alone with Free. One that Free had learned not to point out, or else Sisco would get very defensive and insist he wasn't daring to go soft. Free always found it to be very amusing. "Alright, good… Y'know, I wouldn't want anything bad to happen…"

"…Yeah." Free muttered. Sisco shuffled a bit next to him, but never ceased the gentle rubbing of his back. Free was calm, his eyes closed. He was safe, he was okay, he was out of whatever mind palace had been making him feel so anxious. He trusted Sisco.

Sisco shifted to slowly wrap both arms around Free, pulling him softly into his chest. Free exhaled and rested his forehead against his shoulder, suddenly feeling tired. Although, feeling tired freaked him out a bit, made his heartrate rise. He didn't know why.

Suddenly, he felt like a cat with a sixth sense. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his body tensed, and his ears perked up as a sense of dread suddenly washed over him. A sense that said you are in danger. Get out, get out, get out.

Free lifted his head, taking a sharp breath. "Sisco—"

But before he could finish, suddenly a sharp, cold pain shot through him.

Free went wide eyed, freezing for a second and turning his head slowly to look at Sisco. Sisco, who was still holding him so, so gently, but was now pressing a cold, metal blade into his back. A knife. Free could feel it. Sisco's other hand was laid out on his back, still so gentle, so… Loving? Sisco's expression was almost gentle, but had something a little more sinister hid within it. Free didn't get it, he didn't—

"W- What—" He choked, and then Sisco pulled the knife out quickly, causing Free to gasp out and yell. Sisco pulled Free tighter into him and went to stab again, but Free brought his right hand back quickly, gasping and trying to keep Sisco's gloved hand back. He used all of his strength to push Sisco's chest back with his left hand, quickly whipping around and using both hands to try and hold the knife away, which was now stained with blood. His blood.

Sisco's free arm snaked around Free's middle, pulling him tightly against his chest. Free gasped as he felt the wound on his back brush against Sisco's shirt, and he didn't understand.

"Sisco!" He cried out, a desperation in his voice that had never really come to fruition before. Free was not emotional, he never had been, but something about this was just—

"It's okay, just relax." Sisco's soft voice suddenly seemed so much more sinister. The green haired man clenched his jaw, continuing to speak. "It'll be over soon, you'll feel better."

Free drove his elbow back into Sisco's jaw, causing the other to cuss, and Free used that moment to drive his body weight to the left, seeing as Sisco's right arm was the one around him. He broke through Sisco's fingers and twisted around again to face him, then quickly grabbed both the wrist with the knife and Sisco's other wrist, driving forward and pinning him to the ground, quickly moving to sit on top of his legs. Sisco almost dropped the knife, but kept a hold on it. He gave his little evil, toothy grin, but Free couldn't see the charm in it right then. "Hm. Forgot how tough you are."

What? That was something Sisco always admired about Free, how could he forget that?

"You're wounded." Sisco reminded him, chuckling. "I don't really know if you want to go around like that."

Free realized the back of his tanktop was in fact soaked with blood, and he grunted slightly, narrowing his eyes at Sisco. "Why are you doing this??"

Sisco shrugged, chuckling. He suddenly threw himself to flip them over, and Free was now on the ground below Sisco, completely having lost his grip on the other's arms. Sisco pulled back and went to stab the knife into his eye, but Free caught his wrist again with a yell. He managed to push the knife up, sitting up in the process, and through the pushing, thrusted the knife back against Sisco. Free threw a punch at Sisco's jaw, and the man grunted in surprise. This was enough for Free to wrench the knife away from Sisco.

Free took the knife and stood quickly, staggering back, back scraping against a tree. He hissed out in pain, feeling a little lightheaded.

Sisco slowly got up and stared at him, letting out a small chuckle. He tilted his head to the side in a quick, snapping motion, cracking his neck. He then ran at Free full force.

Free gasped slightly, and he tried to turn to run. He didn't want to hurt Sisco, he didn't. He loved that man, he- fuck.

Pushing through the bushes and the trees, Free felt like a prey being chased by a predator. He clutched the knife in one hand, his legs galloping along. He truly was a meek little deer running from a sharp toothed wolf, or maybe a bear. A deer in headlights, if you will. He could hear Sisco behind him, but he was fast. So he ran and he ran, cutting through trees and bushes, making twists and turns to try and lose Sisco.

He eventually found himself alone, leaning against a tree. It was darker now, and he felt… So dizzy. So weak. He had lost way too much blood, and he was still bleeding out.

He slid down against the tree, breathing heavy. His eyes fluttered, and he tried to resist falling asleep. Instead, he wiped the blood from the knife, then pulled the tanktop forward and cut off a large chunk of it with a few slashes and nicks of the knife. He pressed it to his back, hissing out in pain.

He wanted to call for help, but he wasn't exactly keen on giving Sisco his exact location. Fuck, he really should start carrying that cellphone around that Kris gave him.

He eventually got up after siting for a while, then groaned softly and began to look around. He had to get back to BC Sol before he passed out, otherwise he was done for…

He began to wander through the trees again, significantly slower and out of breath. He felt dizzy, and struggled to keep his balance, but he pushed on, using the trees as support. Luckily, he knew this forest very well, so after a while, he finally found the clearing he was in before, one where he could see BC Sol's building. Damn, it was getting dark, how long had Silas been chasing him for? How was he still alive?

Just as Free was about to exit the forest, there was suddenly another sound behind him. He blinked, turning his head. He stared like a deer in headlights, frozen for a minute, then slowly began to step backwards towards BC Sol, holding out the knife for protection.

Suddenly, his back touched something, and Free paused. He lifted his head, and Sisco was standing there, grinning down at him. Where the hell did he come from, he heard noise from within the forest, not from towards BC Sol??? He was so confused, but there was no time to think about it.

"Hello, deer." Sisco said quietly, and then suddenly grabbed Free with both arms, one arm wrapping around his middle and the other going to cover his mouth and nose.

Free panicked, his fight or flight getting stronger. His instincts kicked in, all rational sense leaving him, and he whipped around best he could, the knife stabbing into the left side of Sisco's chest. Sisco's left, anyway.

Sisco froze, and Free wrenched the knife out. He only froze just after, realizing what he'd done, realizing where he'd stabbed Sisco. Top left of his chest.

No, no—

Sisco choked for a few seconds, then completely let Free go, his body falling to the ground. He placed a hand to his chest, and Free panicked. He began to scream.

"Kris— KRIS! Somebody-!" He yelled, clutching the knife tightly. He tore the remains of his shirt off, his own head spinning as he tried to press it to Sisco's wound. He felt so dizzy, so weak, but he wasn't focused on that right now. "Someone HELP, please-!"

"Free-" Sisco choked. He looked at Free, and he looked like himself again. "What— what did— why—"

Free didn't know what was happening. His head felt heavy with brain fog. "Sisco— Sisco— shit, oh my— I'm sorry—" He moved to scoop Sisco into his arms, forcing himself to get up. He breathed heavily, trying to walk forward. He grunted, breathing heavy. He didn't last longer than maybe a minute before he fell to the ground with Sisco, too weak himself to carry him.

"Sisco—!" Free looked at him, and suddenly froze. Staring back at him were eyes that were tired, scared, and betrayed. Within a second, though, Free physically saw the life drain from Sisco's eyes, his expression going blank. Free felt his own blood going cold. He moved quickly, checking his pulse. Nothing. Nada. Null.

Free stared at him with a blank, wide eyed expression, eyes clouded over with dissociation. His breath began to heave, his hand shaking as he slowly moved it over his mouth. He felt like an absolute failure, like a traitor. Free De La Hoya had just killed the love of his life, the only man he had ever loved. Sisco was dead. Sisco was dead, he was dead, he was dead, he was dead. He was never waking up again, he—

And then his eyes shot open, and his head wrenched back in the green watered tube, the screams erupting from him sounding like something from a horror movie. And standing below, watching his successful simulation, was a smiling Ashtem.

"…Very good. It works. Duly noted."