Author: Titan16 PM
Kyntak sneaks into Six's office, and gets quite a surprise. No slash.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,883 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 10-09-12 - Published: 10-08-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8592732
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer-The Lab isn't mine quite yet.
Kyntak quickly slipped the card into the slot, and swung open the door to his brother's office. Admittedly, what he was doing right now probably wasn't strictly moral, what with Six being operated on and all, but the Diamonds had given Kyntak his clothes, and with them, his card for his office.
Kyntak hadn't even really meant to see it—he had been about to put Six's clothes in his already prepped room for when he woke up, and it had just….. fallen out. Picking it up, Kyntak had hesitated. He knew so little about his long lost brother—just that he had worked for the Deck since he was thirteen and that King had raised him.
Hell, he didn't even know his real name.
And so here he was now, looking in his brother's office, because no matter what, you always left a part of yourself in your workspace.
Except, apparently, Six.
All Kyntak could see was a spare, functional desk, an extra coat exactly like the one Six always wore, and a random painting on the wall.
That, Kyntak thought, had a story to it. Just not one he could see.
He silently crossed to the desk and sat, reaching for the drawers. He'd save the computer for last, since he knew Six was so paranoid that he probably didn't even have his mission reports on there.
He knew, of course, that his seemingly emotionless brother probably had the same level of absolute nothingness for the rest of his office too, but Kyntak had to search, simply because, quite frankly, Six irked him. He couldn't get a read on his brother, couldn't even tell when he was thoughtful, or amused, or even angry, after three whole months of knowing him.
There were only two drawers, one empty and one containing pencils and a sharpener. Kyntak went to shut it when he realized that one, there was a computer for reports, and no paper for random notes, and two, no paper shredder. He just knew Six would use one for anything he deemed important enough to write down.
Hurriedly, he yanked the drawer all the way out, and found that behind it, taped to the inside of the desk, was a small book. Kyntak wilted. He had expected some sort of horrible secret, or porn, or something interesting, anything besides whatever the book contained.
He pulled it out anyway, and opened to a random page.
Kyntak stopped breathing.
It was a sketch book, he felt, abstractly, from the thickness of the paper, but even more so by the horribly detailed sketch, done only in black and white pencil. It depicted soldiers, coming in huge numbers down a narrow staircase, gas masks over their faces and armor on their bodies, along with a dead body on the floor, lying next to a used flash bang.
He knew it was from Six's point of view by the fact that he saw a hand, muscles tense and tendons standing out like whipcords, gripping a pistol and a pair of dog tags which read the name Sender J Lawson.
Six wore dogtags.
And was quite the artist, it seemed.
On the corner, in small, concise writing, was a date, which put the twins at fourteen when this had happened.
Kyntak felt ill.
When he'd been fourteen, he'd been learning how to fight, laughing with other soon to be soldiers, and looking forward to hurting his creators.
Six had been preforming missions that forced him to kill in self-defense, and obviously feeling horribly gulity about it.
Flipping though, he saw that each had a sketch of a dead body, either a civilian or soldier or agent. Over the course of several pages, the sketches got, if it was even possible, better, but so, so much worse.
Each and every time, a name and date were included.
The last was blurry, and had vague double outline, but he recognized it immediately. It was Sevadonn, complete with a hole to his head.
Swallowing, Kyntak forced his shaking hands to replace the book, drawer, and pencils. He stood, exited silently, and went to visit his brother.
They had a lot to talk about.
I've had this idea for awhile, but haven't quite gotten around to write it until now. I still might write a second chapter, but no promises, since I'm still mad that Dead Man Running isn't avilible for me, and that there's no spoliers at all! Any way, PLEASE review!