Lost in London [Completed]

Huit

Kay writhed in Isaac's grip, stumbling upwards as he was forced forwards to the stairs. This was it. This was the end of everything.

"Get – get off, I swear, whatever I did, I'm sorry," Kay pleaded.

Everything had been going fine. They had their routine. A sick, twisted routine, but that was beyond the point. He twisted himself awkwardly, yelping at the self-inflicted pain. It was pointless.

"Get off! Get the fuck off me," Kay kept going, though finally conceded and began moving more easily up the stairs, though his feet still dragged against the metal steps. "You're fucking disgusting."

Isaac seemed completely unfazed by Kay's words, even less so by his actions. Instead, he shoved Kay through the door at the top of the stairs and onto his knees in the hallway.

Kay knew he needed to get up. Move. Stumble away somehow. The door was right there. Just several feet down the hall. While Isaac was occupied with the lights and locking the basement door, Kay put everything he could in to move forward, crawling forward. His hand closed around the door handle and Kay tried to pull himself to his feet – so hard.

It was no use.

By the time he was on his feet and fighting with the locked door, Kay was grabbed from behind, tugged viciously backwards. He yelled – cursed and threatened, but he was back on the kitchen floor in moments. Somehow, he knew he shouldn't bother trying to get back up, instead? He just sat there, breathing hard.

"Are you going to shut your fucking mouth?" Isaac asked bluntly.

"No." The word was out of Kay's mouth before the question had even been finished.

"Didn't think so," Isaac responded, turning away. He was doing something on the kitchen side. A bottle of something. Tilted upside down. Kay was intimidated into silence.

Once Isaac turned around, Kay spotted the needle in his hand. A clear liquid filled the syringe.

"No – no – what are you doing? I – I can be quiet," he said, though he wasn't sure that he meant it. Wasn't sure he would be able to, whether he meant it or not.

Instead of listening to him, Isaac crouched beside him. His expression almost comforted Kay – the deep calm expression that Isaac always plastered on when he was about to do or say something he knew Kay wouldn't like. It was like clockwork.

It gave Kay time to brace himself as the man carelessly waved the needle around in front of Kay's face. He flinched back, but couldn't find the words in the back of his throat to argue. He didn't argue when he was told to stay still, or told that it would sting. He didn't have any arguments left.

Maybe it was better if this was it. If whatever was in the syringe killed him. It would be one less problem for everyone involved. And nothing could break him – nothing could make Kay finally loosen his tongue about just where Halden was going. Not like it mattered; Halden had probably moved on several times by now.

Kay allowed Isaac to take his arm without any argument. He didn't even try and pull away as the needle pinched his skin. Just sat there. A second pinch. Then the pushing of fluids.