AN: Due to popular demand and some very helpful conversations with Reeves and Feesh, I've decided to continue this. Not entirely sure where it's going to go, but either way we'll have fun with it. Well, I will at least. A HUGE 'Thank you' to Reeves for betaing this for me; she had crap to work with, and managed to make it presentable. Despite the quality, I still hope you all enjoy this next chapter of 'Stealing You.'
Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph. Disney does.
"Just a little bit more…just a little bit mo- oh, boo!"
Groaning as the tips of his fingers slipped from the head of the screw he had been trying to work loose, Felix rolled over onto his stomach, pressing the side of his face against the cool metal floor. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he willed himself to calm down and relax, just for little while to give his hands a rest. Then he would try again. He had to try again.
Taking a moment to twist his wrists in an attempt to regain some of the feeling he had lost in the last few minutes, one of his wife's muffled curses left his lips as the pins and needles started up again, the pressure of the rope a rough reminder on his already broken skin that trying to break his bonds would be no use. Ever since Turbo had left him there, he had tried everything in the book to break free. Nothing had worked.
All of his hopes hinged on getting that one little Mod darned loose screw free from its oversized fitting. What he would do with it, Felix still wasn't sure, but at least working toward getting it free was better than sitting there doing nothing. It was all he had left. Trying to scream for help from the sound proof room and attempting to break down the door with his feet had already proven futile.
His sore throat and the broken bone in his left foot could both attest to that.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Turbo's voice echoed through the hall as the door to the outside world slid open, his disguise flickering away to reveal the real man underneath. Approaching the handyman, he aimed a kick at Felix's leg, his smirk widening as the yellow of his eyes lit up with delight upon seeing the fixer gasp and pull away. "An enemy all tied up in a bow, lying on the ground just for me? It must be Christmath, because I don't think I've ever had a prettier little present."
"What are you doing here, Turbo?"
"I just wanted to check on my favorite prisoner and make thure he was okay," Turbo replied sarcastically, pressing his hands against his heart as if Felix's words had wounded him.
"Cut the boo and answer me," Felix spat in reply, careful to keep his gaze steady with Turbo's as he spoke. The quicker he could find out why the former racer was there, the quicker he could get him to leave and get back to work. "What do you want?"
"I thought I'd bring you a little gift," Turbo chuckled as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a little scrap of black cloth that he automatically recognized as hers. Lifting himself up so he was sitting instead of lying at Turbo's feet, his voice became harsh and low as he struggled against his bonds.
"What did you do to Tamora, Turbo," Felix demanded, his words a growl and eyes dark as he stared at the piece of clothing the racer was holding. "What did you do to my wife?"
"Don't worry, Fix-It," Turbo smirked, dropping the pair of underwear into the handyman's lap as he bent so they were face to face. "I'm taking things thlow with her, tho nothing you haven't already done before. Though, by the way I made her scream last night, I think we can both agree that I'm better at it then you are." Leaning forward, Turbo put on a mocking pout as he took in the rage on Felix's face, his clenched teeth bared in a silent snarl as the racer continued to talk. "Poor little Felix," Turbo continued to taunt, his voice childish and high. "He doesn't like it that me and hith pretty little wife fu-"
It was Turbo's turn to squeal in pain as Felix's forehead connected with his mouth, sending him reeling backward clutching his face as Felix struggled against his bonds. He was no longer thinking about the screw behind him that he had been working on loosening. He had no plan, no main goal that he was working toward, nothing more than a desire to get free so that he could continue what he had started. His vision tinting red as the blood that streamed from the broken skin of Turbo's lip became his main focus, Felix's only want right then and there was to find as many ways possible as he could to make the racer bleed even more.
"You stupid, eight-bit fool," Turbo spat as the tip of his steel-toed boot connected with Felix's chest, forcing the air from his lungs as his back slammed against the metal wall behind him. "You're going to die anyway, but do you have a death with for her too?"
Bringing his foot down again, Felix cried out as he felt his rib crack, the sound of it snapping ringing in his ears along with Turbo's laugher. Pulling his foot away, Turbo gently wove his fingers through Felix's hair, the movement almost comforting until his grip tightened. Yanking him up so they were face to face, Turbo's cruel, bloody grin grew as he picked from his pocket the switchblade that Felix recognized as Tamora's, the one she always kept just in case she ever ran out of ammo.
"Your wife trusts me, Fix-It," Turbo spat, flecks of blood flying from his lips to splatter on Felix's cheek. "She trusts you. Didn't even think to question me when I asked to borrow this. Tho, how do you think she'll look when I stab her with it?"
"Stay away from her, Turbo," Felix growled lowly, the taste of copper and salt coating his tongue as he talked. "Stay away from her, or else."
"I'd like to see what your 'or else' is, hero," Turbo said with a genuine grin. "Tho make me."
Slamming Felix's head back against the floor, Turbo stood and pulled out the golden hammer that he had stolen and tapped it against his face, healing the still bleeding lip that the handyman had given him. Storing it back in his belt, he stopped as his attention was caught by the black ball of cloth that had rolled out of Felix's lap during their rough housing. Poking it for a moment with the tip of his shoe, he finally made up his mind. Picking it up, he returned to the fixer's side, stuffing the pair into Felix's pocket before finally getting ready to go, his disguise shimmering back into place as he stood by the exit.
"Don't say I never did anything for you, Fix-It," Turbo laughed in Felix's voice. "I can promithe you this: if I don't kill her, I'll take care of your wife for you. I'll take very good care of her."
Closing the door behind him, the lights once again began to dim as Turbo left, leaving Felix curled in the almost darkness as he struggled to breathe. Swallowing the bile that had risen in the back of his throat, a low grown escaped him as he started to move, forcing his aching muscles to flip him over as he rolled back to the spot he had originally started in. Pausing as a deep, racking cough stopped him, not even the absence of light could keep him from seeing the dark droplets that had splattered on the floor, nor could it cover the metallic taste that had invaded his tongue when his lungs had finally cleared enough that he could breathe once more. Twisting round one more time, he didn't even bother to try and hide the pain as his fingers found the one little bump in the otherwise smooth surface, his gasps slowly forming into words as he worked. Whispering them quietly in the darkness, they became his prayer to the moderator as he tried to get that damn screw loose.
"Just a little more…just a little more…please, Mod, just a little bit more."