Fic, Silk and Steel, Part 10
Aug. 3rd, 2008 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Silk and Steel, Part 10
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Ryan, Nick
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary : Nick and Ryan talk, and this time, Nick's sober. This part follows directly afterreggietate ’s ficlet Collar
Warning : Slave!fic!
A/N : With thanks to munchkinofdoom for helping to plot this AU.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Ryan, Nick
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary : Nick and Ryan talk, and this time, Nick's sober. This part follows directly after
reggietate ’s ficlet CollarWarning : Slave!fic!
A/N : With thanks to munchkinofdoom for helping to plot this AU.
Nick Cutter pulled a blanket around his shoulders and accepted the coffee that Ryan had just poured out from a metal flask. He could smell the welcome addition of the whisky. Even in spite of his excesses the previous night, the alcohol was welcome. It was getting dark, and temperatures were starting to drop quite rapidly under the trees.
He’d only had to head into the bushes once to throw up today, and that had been hours ago. He’d even managed to keep down the faintly damp cheese sandwiches that Connor had produced from the depths of his rucksack. And considering how unappetising those had been, he’d been quite proud of himself.
Without a word, Ryan went back to his place leaning against a tree, even though it had started to rain.
“Shelter’s big enough for two, Captain,” Nick offered, gesturing to a spare camping stool in the large tent the soldiers had erected when it had become obvious that this particular anomaly wasn’t just going to disappear in the blink of an eye.
Ryan nodded his thanks and sat down, keeping his eyes fixed on the dancing light in the middle of clearing.
The soldier had sent most of his men back to the ARC after Nick had established that the barren wilderness of rock on the other side didn’t appear to contain anything more threatening than a few small lizards. Nick had done the same with his own team, seeing little point in keeping Stephen away from Lyle’s bedside for longer than strictly necessary. Abby and Connor had offered to stay, but he’d seen precious little point in everyone suffering.
“Sorry about last night,” he muttered, following Ryan’s example and staring straight ahead. “Thanks for getting me home in one piece.” The word home still seemed wrong in context, but he was stuck for what else to call a house that was 80% familiar and 20% freakishly unfamiliar.
“All part of the job, sir,” Ryan said, in a studiously level tone.
Nick was relieved to find that he was being treated to a more neutral title today. Sure, he was less likely to spout drunken inanities in the cold light of day, but it still looked like Ryan wasn’t for taking any chances. It had been his use of the term master that had set Nick off in the first place. That and watching Lyle get flogged half to death.
It had taken a day for it to really sink in. He’d been fucking furious in the immediate aftermath. Only Lester’s calm insistence that if he didn’t wind his neck in, he’d find himself cooling his heels in one of the ARC’s holding bays, had stopped him heading straight out and planting his fist on Leek’s entirely deserving nose. That and Ryan’s large and occasionally menacing presence.
The silence dragged on, broken only by the crackle of flames from the small fire that the soldiers had built, ostensibly to keep any wildlife away from the anomaly, but more probably just to pass the bloody time.
“Why did you do it, Ryan?” The question was out before Nick could stop himself.
“Do what, sir?”
“Indenture yourself into a corrupt fucking system, that’s what.”
The soldier shrugged. “I needed the money.”
Fully conscious of the fact that it was none of his damned business, Nick ploughed on anyway. “What for?”
The flash of anger in Ryan’s grey eyes told Nick that he was treading on dangerous ground.
“To pay a lawyer to get me access to my kid after the divorce.”
“Did you succeed?”
“No.”
Well, that answered that, thought Nick, disliking himself for opening an old wound.
Finding Ryan alive, no more than an hour after the man had died in his arms in the Permian was only one of the many things that had freaked Nick out in this fucking evil travesty of a world. Finding Ryan with a steel collar on his neck had been an even bigger shock. Jesus H. Christ. Slavery. He still hadn’t had time to find out exactly what had happened and when it had all started to go wrong, and playing Twenty Questions with an increasingly freaked out Stephen hadn’t done him much good, so he’d dropped it, and just tried his best to get on with the job.
But there were times when he couldn’t hold it in any more and last night had been one of those times. A bottle of half way decent malt had appeared in the Relaxation Room in the ARC and before Nick had known it, he’d been three sheets to the wind, haranguing Ryan - and anyone else who’d made the mistake of coming close enough - with his views on Leek, the System, and this fucking crazy world.
Connor had scurried off, wearing his patented rabbit in the headlights look, no doubt to tamper with the surveillance tapes yet again. Abby had made him a large mug of black coffee which he’d promptly ignored, then she’d gone off to see how Lyle was. Using the soldier as an excuse to get away from Nick, clearly afraid of getting caught up in whatever madness had infected him. Jeez, what happened to kids like Abby and Connor in this world to give them eyes that were older even than his? Eyes that looked like they’d seen it all.
He found himself apologising again, and this time, Ryan waved a weary hand. “Forget it. No harm done.”
Nick swallowed the rest of the coffee and held the plastic cup out for a refill. Ryan obliged.
“How are your ribs? I really thought that ankylosaur had bloody well killed you.” And Nick hadn’t exactly been keen on the idea of watching Ryan die for a second time.
“Cracked. Sore. Nothing that hasn’t happened before.”
But Cutter noticed that Ryan was careful not to shrug, even though he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Will you ever be free of that collar?”
“They get taken off when we’re buried, if you must know. Otherwise I need to survive another fifteen years, which in this job is pretty sodding unlikely.” Ryan hesitated for a moment, before adding quietly, “Professor, I trust my lads, and we’re safe enough out here, but Connor won’t always be around to rig the feed from the cameras back at the ARC. So, for all our sakes, leave it, won’t you?”
Nick Cutter dropped his head into his hands. What the fucking hell had they done, back in the Permian or wherever, to have led to this? A fucking world where surveillance cameras were the norm on ever street corner and in every work-place; where men and women wore collars and could be flogged to death on the flimsiest of excuses; where students and researchers were only just one rung higher on the social scale, working to pay for their education in a system that gave a whole new fucking meaning to the word exploitation.
He must have groaned aloud, or something. The next moment, he felt Ryan’s large hand on his shoulder, and in a voice rough with emotion, Ryan muttered, “Don’t take the fucking weight of the world on your shoulders, Professor. Whatever happened, I can’t believe it was down to anything you did.”
“I had your soldier flogged, didn’t I?” Nick challenged, surprising even himself with the change of subject.
“Someone did, sir, but for what it’s worth, I’m finding it increasingly hard to believe that it was you.”
Ryan’s voice was dry and resigned, and as ever, the soldier gave very little away, but to Nick the words fell like rain in the desert. He found himself reaching out and grabbing Ryan’s wrist. The captain stiffened, but made no move to pull away, even though it clearly went against all his instincts.
“What does Lester think, man? Does he believe me?”
“Not for me to say, sir. He’s not in the habit of confiding in slaves.”
And for once in his life, Nick Cutter decided to take the hint and shut the fuck up.
The naked pain in Ryan’s eyes left him very little choice.
He’d only had to head into the bushes once to throw up today, and that had been hours ago. He’d even managed to keep down the faintly damp cheese sandwiches that Connor had produced from the depths of his rucksack. And considering how unappetising those had been, he’d been quite proud of himself.
Without a word, Ryan went back to his place leaning against a tree, even though it had started to rain.
“Shelter’s big enough for two, Captain,” Nick offered, gesturing to a spare camping stool in the large tent the soldiers had erected when it had become obvious that this particular anomaly wasn’t just going to disappear in the blink of an eye.
Ryan nodded his thanks and sat down, keeping his eyes fixed on the dancing light in the middle of clearing.
The soldier had sent most of his men back to the ARC after Nick had established that the barren wilderness of rock on the other side didn’t appear to contain anything more threatening than a few small lizards. Nick had done the same with his own team, seeing little point in keeping Stephen away from Lyle’s bedside for longer than strictly necessary. Abby and Connor had offered to stay, but he’d seen precious little point in everyone suffering.
“Sorry about last night,” he muttered, following Ryan’s example and staring straight ahead. “Thanks for getting me home in one piece.” The word home still seemed wrong in context, but he was stuck for what else to call a house that was 80% familiar and 20% freakishly unfamiliar.
“All part of the job, sir,” Ryan said, in a studiously level tone.
Nick was relieved to find that he was being treated to a more neutral title today. Sure, he was less likely to spout drunken inanities in the cold light of day, but it still looked like Ryan wasn’t for taking any chances. It had been his use of the term master that had set Nick off in the first place. That and watching Lyle get flogged half to death.
It had taken a day for it to really sink in. He’d been fucking furious in the immediate aftermath. Only Lester’s calm insistence that if he didn’t wind his neck in, he’d find himself cooling his heels in one of the ARC’s holding bays, had stopped him heading straight out and planting his fist on Leek’s entirely deserving nose. That and Ryan’s large and occasionally menacing presence.
The silence dragged on, broken only by the crackle of flames from the small fire that the soldiers had built, ostensibly to keep any wildlife away from the anomaly, but more probably just to pass the bloody time.
“Why did you do it, Ryan?” The question was out before Nick could stop himself.
“Do what, sir?”
“Indenture yourself into a corrupt fucking system, that’s what.”
The soldier shrugged. “I needed the money.”
Fully conscious of the fact that it was none of his damned business, Nick ploughed on anyway. “What for?”
The flash of anger in Ryan’s grey eyes told Nick that he was treading on dangerous ground.
“To pay a lawyer to get me access to my kid after the divorce.”
“Did you succeed?”
“No.”
Well, that answered that, thought Nick, disliking himself for opening an old wound.
Finding Ryan alive, no more than an hour after the man had died in his arms in the Permian was only one of the many things that had freaked Nick out in this fucking evil travesty of a world. Finding Ryan with a steel collar on his neck had been an even bigger shock. Jesus H. Christ. Slavery. He still hadn’t had time to find out exactly what had happened and when it had all started to go wrong, and playing Twenty Questions with an increasingly freaked out Stephen hadn’t done him much good, so he’d dropped it, and just tried his best to get on with the job.
But there were times when he couldn’t hold it in any more and last night had been one of those times. A bottle of half way decent malt had appeared in the Relaxation Room in the ARC and before Nick had known it, he’d been three sheets to the wind, haranguing Ryan - and anyone else who’d made the mistake of coming close enough - with his views on Leek, the System, and this fucking crazy world.
Connor had scurried off, wearing his patented rabbit in the headlights look, no doubt to tamper with the surveillance tapes yet again. Abby had made him a large mug of black coffee which he’d promptly ignored, then she’d gone off to see how Lyle was. Using the soldier as an excuse to get away from Nick, clearly afraid of getting caught up in whatever madness had infected him. Jeez, what happened to kids like Abby and Connor in this world to give them eyes that were older even than his? Eyes that looked like they’d seen it all.
He found himself apologising again, and this time, Ryan waved a weary hand. “Forget it. No harm done.”
Nick swallowed the rest of the coffee and held the plastic cup out for a refill. Ryan obliged.
“How are your ribs? I really thought that ankylosaur had bloody well killed you.” And Nick hadn’t exactly been keen on the idea of watching Ryan die for a second time.
“Cracked. Sore. Nothing that hasn’t happened before.”
But Cutter noticed that Ryan was careful not to shrug, even though he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Will you ever be free of that collar?”
“They get taken off when we’re buried, if you must know. Otherwise I need to survive another fifteen years, which in this job is pretty sodding unlikely.” Ryan hesitated for a moment, before adding quietly, “Professor, I trust my lads, and we’re safe enough out here, but Connor won’t always be around to rig the feed from the cameras back at the ARC. So, for all our sakes, leave it, won’t you?”
Nick Cutter dropped his head into his hands. What the fucking hell had they done, back in the Permian or wherever, to have led to this? A fucking world where surveillance cameras were the norm on ever street corner and in every work-place; where men and women wore collars and could be flogged to death on the flimsiest of excuses; where students and researchers were only just one rung higher on the social scale, working to pay for their education in a system that gave a whole new fucking meaning to the word exploitation.
He must have groaned aloud, or something. The next moment, he felt Ryan’s large hand on his shoulder, and in a voice rough with emotion, Ryan muttered, “Don’t take the fucking weight of the world on your shoulders, Professor. Whatever happened, I can’t believe it was down to anything you did.”
“I had your soldier flogged, didn’t I?” Nick challenged, surprising even himself with the change of subject.
“Someone did, sir, but for what it’s worth, I’m finding it increasingly hard to believe that it was you.”
Ryan’s voice was dry and resigned, and as ever, the soldier gave very little away, but to Nick the words fell like rain in the desert. He found himself reaching out and grabbing Ryan’s wrist. The captain stiffened, but made no move to pull away, even though it clearly went against all his instincts.
“What does Lester think, man? Does he believe me?”
“Not for me to say, sir. He’s not in the habit of confiding in slaves.”
And for once in his life, Nick Cutter decided to take the hint and shut the fuck up.
The naked pain in Ryan’s eyes left him very little choice.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:06 pm (UTC)It was an excellent bunny, which set this one up beautifully.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 08:53 pm (UTC)I want Nick to FIX this world. And I want Ryan and Lester and all of the team to help.
*Looks hopeful that things will in some way get better by the end*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:09 pm (UTC)Munchkin and I are still busily plotting, so this AU has a way to run yet!! *evil grin*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:11 pm (UTC)*wants a happy ending*
*eventually*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 09:44 am (UTC)But Nick? Poor bloody Nick, thinking it's all his fault.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 09:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 04:33 am (UTC)Which, of course, means trouble for everybody else.
As I said in feedback while betaing this part: it's a quiet little piece but so important. It shows clearly that Nick simply can't wrap his head around the world he is caught in. And so he keeps making mistakes that put everybody in danger.
I loved the two things that come clearly through in this part. That Nick still doesn't understand the sheer danger of a touch in this world, and secondly that, behind closed doors, Lester and Ryan are not equals despite being what looks to Nick to be lovers.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 09:48 am (UTC)With the Evil Twins plotting it, sweetie, what else could it mean!
Yes, poor Ryan, in a world where a touch mainly precedes abuse, and dominance, there's no such thing as a simple gesture, is there? Will Nick ever work that one out?
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 12:32 pm (UTC)“Did you succeed?”
“No.”
THIS officially broke my heart...
great, as always...
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 12:43 pm (UTC)Sorry, hon!
*offers glue for your heart*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 02:46 pm (UTC)Of course Nick is taking the weight of the world on himself.
And Ryan and the reason he got himself indentured *huggles him* but the ending was just soo.. *sniff*
OK I really left this FB to this morning in the hope it'd be a bit more coherent than last night but it doesn't seem like the trick worked, sorry :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 02:56 pm (UTC)The trouble is for Nick, that he really does think the entire world is his fault. Bit worse than just losing one person, I reckon. *huggles NIck too*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 03:02 pm (UTC)True but at the same time Nick has the tendency to always blame himself. Also if you think about it from Ryan's perspective, for a parent, losing a child is just as bad as losing your entire world.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 03:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 04:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 08:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 09:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-06 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-07 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 11:37 am (UTC)*rolls eyes at Nick* because getting drunk is a good way to make people think your *less* crazy... I feels sorry for him, but really, freak out quietly man!
*squishes Ryan*
no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-31 10:13 am (UTC)Someone did, sir, but for what it’s worth, I’m finding it increasingly hard to believe that it was you.
I love Nick as a character in general, and very much want the whole team to convert to this opinion of him!
But Ryan's reasons for becoming a slave...*whimpers and squishes him*
no subject
Date: 2011-05-31 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-01 04:18 am (UTC)Such vivid Nick/Ryan interaction.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-02 08:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-10 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-10 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-19 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-10 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-20 11:42 pm (UTC)Really interesting characterisation here. Nick is so naturally arrogant it's good to see him admitting he might have made mistakes. And Ryan is naturally very physically imposing and having to totally reign in his natural instincts. It great seeing them work against themselves as it were. Still enjoying seeing this world unfold - and thanks to the magic of later readership I can just straight to the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2013-12-21 01:32 pm (UTC)