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As soon as Torbek busted through the door of the Inn at the End of the Road, Gideon knew, intrinsically, that something was terribly wrong.
It was more than the mindless ferociousness and the savagery and the brutality of which he tore through the tavern and knocked him to the ground and left Frost for dead. There was something in his eyes, even as a slobbering beast, that Gideon recognized. It was buried deep, deep down, masked by magenta and insanity, but he saw it, because when he looked into a mirror, many years ago, he used to see it too.
He and Torbek had always had a sort of competitive relationship. They were friendly rivals, always trying to one-up each other in a friendly, sportsman like kind of way. He had never been as close to Torbek as he was to Gricko and Kremy and Frost, but Gideon liked Torbek. Kremy was really his first ever friend, even from before leaving the train, and there was a time in his life where he thought that he would never get to have any friends. Really, he's just thrilled to have four of them under his belt.
But as Torbek was forced into the corner by Hootsie and Frost where he cowered in a miserable heap, there was something in his eyes, something in the way he held himself and tucked his head against his chest and rocked himself back and forth like a self-soothing child, that Gideon felt deep within his soul. And the pumps and wires and mechanisms hidden beneath his skin- well, that wasn't too different from Gideon's own chains, were they? And hell, Gideon couldn't remember the last time he had been so afraid than when Gricko and Frost wanted to tell him the truth. Not because he wanted to keep it a secret, because he truly did feel just terrible about turning him in and sending him to this place for what seemed to be many years- it was a cardboard cutout for fucks sake- but because he didn't want Torbek to run. Because that's what Gideon would do. If he learnt that Kremy was only keeping around because he was useful, only to sell him back to the hobgoblins on the train, he'd probably kill every last one of them before running as fast as he legs could carry him. And really, he and Torbek weren't all that different, not really. They both wanted friends, both wanted to be accepted, both would follow Kremy around like a lost puppy if it meant earning a dredging of his kindness.
Five years. Five fucking years. If Gideon had known that they were going to condemn their friend to five years of bloody, ruthless torture all in the name of a cardboard cutout and allegations made by a corrupt magic man, he would have fought his friends tooth and bloody nail to get Torbek the hell out of there. Because sure, Torbek was a bit strange, a little bit slow, and a thorn in Gideon's side at times, but so was Gricko, and he would never force him to suffer such a terrible fate! Hell, Gideon just thought that he was going to be thrown in jail for the remainder of the carnival, be taught a lesson about lying and stealing and chatting up pixies, a little slap on the wrist, and be let go before the carnival returned to Prismeer. If Gideon had known, he would have done more than tackle Mr Witch to the ground before they left that damn place, that's for fucking sure. He would have left a mark, a reminder, in a way that actually counted.
Now, things are quiet, but not really. They all lay in the same extra-large room, courtesy of Twig and her magic walking tavern, and while the rest of his friends snored and slept around him, Gideon stayed up for a little while longer. His back was against the wall, and he was smoking his interrupted cigar from earlier as he watched the shallow rise and fall of Torbek's sides as he breathed raggedly. He could only imagine the pressure those tubes and pipes were putting on his insides, much less the invasive nature of the engine under his skin that Gideon couldn't even begin to understand. 'Fae Engineering for Dummies' sat on the floor beside him, but Gideon hadn't done much more than flick through it and look at the pictures yet. The strange purple ooze, the high-end drug according to Twig, still moved sluggishly from within the tubing, seeping deep into Torbek's very being, messing with his DNA, changing his very chemical makeup.
He looked gaunt and thin and exhausted, and hell, Gideon would never forget what that felt like. To be starved, to be used as nothing but a tool, to be kept up at all hours of the night by meaningless suffering. It could have very nearly killed him if he had stayed there any longer, trapped at the hands of the hobgoblins who cared not for his well being or desires, but for how useful he could be, how much he could be put through to make their engines run as smoothly and as swiftly as possible. Some days, Gideon was sure that they even forgot that he was down there in that tiny room that stunk of sweat and tears and fear, and he was left to rot in the deep of the engine room, dark save for the red-orange light of the raging furnace, with the blistering heat and suffocating smoke, alone with his thoughts as he starved and begged and cried out for help. It was his lowest point, but in those times when he was left to his own devices, he began to learn, and he learnt about the chains and the engine and his own abilities to the point where he was able to escape, all on his own, to free himself where all the people and gods and higher beings he had begged to had failed. But he doubted Torbek had been clear-headed enough to figure out his own escape. It was probably an accident, a lapse of attention meeting a window of opportunity and the chains that kept Torbek at bay no longer being strong enough.
Gideon knew a little something about weak links.
Keeping watch, he glanced from Kremy to Gricko to Frost to Torbek, even to little Twig at his side, and kept his eyes on the windows and the moving landscape outside of the walking inn. When he had first escaped the train, he looked over his shoulder almost constantly, waiting to see if the hobgoblins had followed him and finally caught up with him. Of course, that first night after his miraculous escape, he ran so far and so fast that none of the hobgoblins could ever hope to catch up to him, especially not without the engine of their train running on Gideon-power, but it wasn't until he met up with Kremy that he finally felt safe enough to let his guard down. But Torbek's been alone, trapped in this strange world and experimented on for five whole years. Gideon would doubt if he had felt safe with anyone this entire time.
He was jerked out of his thoughts by a strangled sound, and he glanced up as Torbek writhed and twisted on the floor, curled up in his corner on the other side of the room with his back to the room and his long arms wrapped around himself. He made a sound at the back of his throat, and he jerked upright with wild, frightened eyes, his chest rising and falling like a jackhammer as he gasped like he'd just run a triathlon. His eyes, through the usual brown that he recognized was a coating of a sickly purplish hue, a lighter but no less purple than the Witchlight drug pumping through the tubes drilled into his back and shoulders and sides, darted around the room in a panic before they landed on Kremy and Gricko and Frost and Hootsie in turn, before finally landing on Gideon.
"You alright, buddy?" Gideon asked after Torbek's unblinking stare became unbearable.
"Torbek doesn't know," Torbek tilted his head to the side, strangely akin to Hootsie when she's curious. "Torbek hasn't been 'alright' for a very long time."
"Yeah, I hear that," Gideon replied. He remembered the paranoia, how long it took him to get used to the world after being in confinement for so long. He thought he got the hang of it pretty quickly, with Kremy's help of course. Well, he got used to all the fun parts, anyhow. "You think that you can get back to sleep? We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I think Kremy's itching to get going."
Frowning, Torbek lowered his eyes as he glanced out the window, the same window that Gideon had been carefully watching, and at the shifting landscape beyond. "When Torbek closes his eyes, he sees the cage."
"Oh yeah, and the dwarf in the lab-coat with the mushrooms and the crystal cave, right?" Gideon asked. "Yeah, that guy looked like trouble."
"Torbek doesn't know who you're talking about," Torbek said.
"You know, the guy who we think did all that stuff to you," Gideon gestured at Torbek's whole self, at the purple ooze and the tubing and the whole kit-and-caboodle. "You must remember some of it if you're having nightmares about it. It's gotta be up there in your brain somewhere. Do you think that you're getting your memories back?"
"Torbek doesn't remember anything," Torbek shook his head, rubbed at the back of his neck. He dug his nails into the flesh at the nape of his neck, deep into the matted fur. Gideon doubted that he drew any blood. There was the metal plate buried under his skin that probably prevented that. "Images come in flashes but they don't last long enough for me to really understand."
"That's alright. I'm sure it's probably for the best," Gideon took a long drag from his cigar, and blew the smoke out through his nose, where it percolated against the ceiling above him. For a moment, he considered whether or not he should offer a cigar to Torbek, but decided against it. "I don't know what happened to you, but whatever it is, I doubt it's worth remembering."
Gnawing at his bottom lip, Torbek made a sound of distress. "But it's not right, that Torbek can't remember anything from five whole years-"
Gideon shakes his head. "If you keep thinking like that, it's going to drive you crazy. Well, crazier than you already are. And you heard Frosty- time works differently here than it does back home."
"Frost knows everything," Torbek nodded in agreement. "Torbek trusts him. Frost wouldn't lie."
When Torbek looked away, down at his yellowed, gnarled claws, chipped and cracked, Gideon took the opportunity to observe him. In the flickering firelight from the lanterns on the walls around them, he looked gaunt, emaciated, and his eyes were sunken into his face, and haunted beyond compare. Where he could see Torbek's ribs sticking out visibly under his fur, his body bore the evidence of violence with new scars, and his tired eyes darted this way and that as he jumped at every sudden sound, no matter how faint, and kept glancing at the corners of the room as if waiting for someone or something to leap out of the shadows.
Guilt gnawed at Gideon's insides as he remembered the look on Torbek's face as Mr Witch's guards dragged him away back at the carnival. He was frightened, but when he glanced back at them, he still looked hopeful, as if reassured that no matter what his fate, at least his friends would have his back. But they didn't have his back. He was sent into a hellhole for five years and they didn't even know about it. And if Gideon ever got his hands on Mr Witch and Mr Light, deal be damned, he'll burn them alive and tear them apart with his bare hands.
"Hey, Torbek," Gideon asked. He put out his cigar when it burned down to nothing more than a musky smelling stump between his fingers, close enough to skin to burn him, if he could be burned by such a feeble flame. "You know that we had no idea that you were sent here, right? They lied to us, back at the carnival. And I mean, I'm not trying to pretend like we weren't a little bit at fault, and I don't want you to think that we're not sorry, because we are sorry, but you know that we didn't just abandon you, right? If we had known that you were here, we would have come after you and gotten you out of here. We never would have just left you. You know that, right?"
Torbek was quiet for a little too long for Gideon's liking, but though he wasn't a patient person, he waited for as long as he was able until Torbek was ready to talk. "Torbek doesn't know what to believe anymore. But if Gideon says that he is sorry and that he didn't mean to punish Torbek, then I believe him."
"Of course not," Gideon scoffed. "You stole a fucking piece of cardboard for fucks sake! You did nothing that you needed to be punished for, especially not being sent to this nightmare upside-down place and tortured and experimented on for five years. Look, nobody understands what you're going through more than I do, alright? It happened to me too. I mean, it didn't happen like this, but I understand it, alright? So if you ever need to hit something, or get into some kind of fight, or anything to make you feel better, then you know who to come to."
"You?" Torbek asked, sounding unsure.
"Hell yeah, me!" Gideon laughed. "If you want to feel stupid, you go to Frost. If you want a pick-me-up, you go to Gricko. You want a hug, you go to Hootsie. You want to hear an awesome story, you go to Kremy. You want to hit things, you come to your old pal Gideon."
"Gideon would fight things with Torbek?" Torbek's eyes were shiny with tears, leaving streaks of wetness down his fur. "Gideon would want to help Torbek out and spend time with him?"
"Sure, dude," Gideon shrugged. It didn't seem like such a big deal, but then again, he wasn't the guy who just spent five years all alone getting experimented on, of which he had no memory of. "You're one of us now. You hang with us, and we'll keep you safe. I promise."
Before Torbek could reply, there was a shuffling sound from Gideon's left, and Kremy sat up in the giant bundle of blankets and pillows that Twig provided for him, and glowered at Gideon blearily. "Gid, what the hell are you doing?" he grumbled. "It's late and some of us are trying to sleep."
"Sorry," Gideon said. He wasn't all that sorry but it never hurt to say it. "I'm just chatting with Torbek."
"Well Torbek should be asleep as well," Kremy said as he laid back down. "Both of you, go to sleep already, alright? We're on the move tomorrow and we're not waiting up for you if you lag behind. I mean it."
"He's right," Gideon said to Torbek when he could hear the sounds of Kremy fast asleep. "You should sleep, you look like you need it."
Torbek immediately looked afraid. "But, what if Torbek wakes up and you're not here?"
"Don't worry," Gideon aimed for reassuring, but felt like he missed the mark. "I'll keep watch tonight. Anything that tries to come for you will have to get through me first. So you rest up, and then we'll move on in the morning. We'll all be here when you wake up, I promise. We won't leave without you again."
After a moment of hesitation, Torbek's weariness and exhaustion got the better of him, and he laid back down on his cocoon of pillows and blankets and soft fluffy things, courtesy of Twig, and was out like a lantern in an instant, snoring soundly, breathing deeply. He looked innocent and childlike like this, swaddled in blankets in a nest made of pillows. Who the hell would look at Torbek and think that he was a weapon of mass destruction? A twisted, insane psychopath, that's who.
Gideon settled in for the night, fully prepared to keep watch and make sure nothing came in through the moving inn's windows to cause them harm, but found himself falling asleep against this will, and sooner than he would have liked, he joined his friends and comrades in their deep slumber, accidentally breaking his first promise to Torbek in record time.