Morning Coffee And Sweet Surprises (Closed to Poprockz)

[Poprockz]

Quint was not blindfolded, Nathaniel having commented that they didn't feel the need to hide where Damien was at the moment because he was going to be moved shortly anyway. He was led to the elevator, the butler having to use a fingerprint scanner to get it to go past the fourth highest floor. They finally stopped at the second-highest floor, a floor that was more lavish than the rest, decorated with more golds and whites. One could only assume that the top floor was even grander. They went down the hall and one could see another man sitting in a chair and reading a book outside a room. He had a built frame and a face that screamed a "fuck all" attitude and a disregard for rules.

The ginger zombie looked up when they approached, snapping his book shut before saying, "about fucking time. I'll leave it to you then." He then got to his feet, and walked away without waiting for a response from the butler, nor stopping to chat with Quint either. Neither his amber nor violet eye looked at Quint for more than a moment as he passed. Nathaniel looked displeased and disapproving, his eyebrows furrowing a bit in annoyance. Nothing was said about it though, the butler most likely preferring to keep his comments to himself.

"I imagine Angelique will formally introduce you to Artemis later. For now, I will allow you into the room with Damien. As she said, take as much time as you need and knock on the door when you're ready to leave as I will be locking it behind you." They both knew he could knock the door off its hinges even as the type of zombie he was, but it was more for Damien's detainment than anything.

With that, he unlocked the door with another fingerprint scanner (this one requiring a 6-digit code as well to be entered above it) before opening it and gesturing for him to go inside.

When Quint entered the room, the first thing he would notice was that the room REEKED of sexual fluids. Though it was very tidy and clean, one could assume that the bedsheets had not yet been changed after a very exuberant fuck-session. It would only take a glance to confirm this, the sheets and blankets twisted and scrunched on the mattress. They looked as though they would make a nice crunching sound if one were to sit on them.

Damien was sitting in a wing-back chair, dressed in long black slacks and a black turtleneck sweater. There was no way to hide his sickly pallor or the dark circles under his eyes, but at the very least the evidence of what had transpired was largely hidden. He wasn't a fool- he knew there was no fooling Quint about what had happened between himself and Angelique, but he didn't feel comfortable sharing more than that. Quint would likely think he deserved the love bites and the bruising from her strong grip on his ankles, thighs, hips, chest, shoulders, and even his throat, but he couldn't trust that it wouldn't make it back to Cora. That... that was something he didn't want. If it was up to him, Quint would report back that he was doing fine.

It was necessary for him to endure this to keep their host happy.

Damien himself smelled more of pina colada than of cum after having been bathed that morning. Who had done the bathing, he wasn't sure, nor did he care. The fact that he was completely unconscious for it was a blessing since they could have tried washing him in the tub rather than the shower. They seemed to have brushed his teeth as well. A surprising attention to detail, but he supposed Angelique preferred fucking those who maintained decent hygiene. His breath tasted a bit odd on his tongue, and unbeknownst to him his pupils were slightly dilated.

He didn't get up to greet Quint. The last pill he took was wearing off, and he had to admit that he wasn't sure how well he could play at being okay while standing up. That is, if he could stand. Every time he had tried within the last hour, his legs had buckled and he had been forced to crawl his way back into the chair. The pills he assumed were pain medication could only offer so much relief after having been akin to a fleshlight for an entire night, so he preferred not to move if he didn't have to. His insides felt raw on both ends, the man having to painfully clear his throat before speaking in a horse voice as the door clicked shut behind Quint.

"How is the group? How is Cora?" His tired eyes looked concerned.

 

[Drobabes]

Each little detail he took in his personal mind notebook; from the ritzy security system to the type of protection Angelique had on hand. He wondered how much of this information Francis already had in his own file, but it never hurt to have an extra pair of eyes. As far as how all of this information was going to help them get out of there? Well, Quint knew one thing for sure-there was going to be no way of brute forcing out the back door. They were going to have to escape quietly, quickly, and just hope they could grab their supplies and vehicles. There was a lot of other half zombies here and he had intense doubts that any of them would betray their mistress.

Artemis was given as little acknowledgement as he gave to Quint, though the dual colored eyes were noticed. The attitude didn't immediately click right then, as now they were coming up on the door and instructions were being given, but it would sit in the back of his mind for later investigation. His eyes were drawn down to the keypad, trying not to be too obvious about it. It would be very easy indeed to just pull the door off it's hinges, but also likely useless. Not only might it set off an alarm, perhaps even a silent one, but Damien was going to be moved for their little game so there was no point in coming back here. Though, he wondered, was there a separate lock code for each door? Or could that same code work on another door? It was too bad he didn't have a photographic memory but Quint thought he caught enough of the finger movements to maybe give it a pretty good shot if it didn't immediately lock him out.

He didn't understand why he didn't smell it before he stepped in, but upon his first footfall into the doorway, and yes before the door was even shut and locked behind him, Quint let out an involuntary gag and his bowels cramped to an almost painful degree. It was a familiar smell, one that would have sent him into the stress response even before his nose became so sensitive, but with the new zombie senses it was damn near crippling. His light eyes took a quick, almost timid, scan around the room and widened a small amount when he saw the bed. They darted away quickly-down to the ground, and he had to work to stay focused and present in the moment. Though the crashing realization of what had happened in this room as he looked upon Damien's broken form almost started his hands shaking. It was an awful mixture of realization of what Angelique meant by always being on top, and triggering memories that were now too fresh in his mind once more.

Focus...focus Quint.

He moved his hand down away from his mouth, and for a moment, didn't answer Damien, but simply stared.

Slowly but surely, disgust and anxiety gave way to confusion, then a strange mixture of anger and satisfaction. No, not satisfaction... Retribution. Damien had gotten what was coming to him. It wasn't too hard to guess, seeing as there was no other scents in the room except for himself and Angelique's, and seeing how much of an appetite the mistress had for sex. It was also a bit warm in the room, certainly too warm to be wearing long pants and a turtle neck, so it was very likely Damien was trying to cover any marks left over from their romp. But if all that hadn't given it away, there was also the distinct slack in his posture. No longer the snobby, stuck up, rich business man who was used to the world bending to his will and being able to throw money at any slight annoyance that happened to land itself in his path. The mutt had most definitely been used, fucked, like how he had forced himself on Sayori, his sister, and who knew how many other women.

Somewhere in the back of Quint's mind he could almost hear the memory of Brandon's moral warning-that it wasn't their place to dish out revenge, that it never ended well and only hurt the one seeking it out, but he didn't want to listen anymore now then he did back then and pushed it back into it's box. And yet, the box would not, could not, be closed, and the seed of doubt that was planted grew one small leaf when Damien earnestly sought to know if Cora was alright.

"She's with the others. Having a cup of coffee and waiting for me to get back" he answered, sidestepping a direct answer and irritating himself that he gave an answer at all. The mutt didn't deserve it. He deserved this, what had happened. He deserved every mark that was likely under that protective layer of clothing, Quint tried to tell himself.

A slow step forward, and then another. Then, as if the spell had been broken, Quint strode across the room and took a seat and moved it opposite of Damien, but close enough that there was little room between them.

"Angelique sent me here to heal your hand. She gave us two hours-I think that will be enough time" he said, leaving the implication in the air.

Suddenly Quint reached out with a hand, stopped halfway through the two of them, then reached up and gripped Damien's chin.

"Look at me" he said firmly, though his grip remained neutrally gentle.

"She gave you something. Do you know what it was?"

 

[Poprockz]

He didn't blame Quint for gagging. Damien had forgotten that they had such strong noses, but he should have known that Quint would be disgusted by how much cum he probably smelled right now. It wasn't clear why the man had stared at him, though he imagined he was being judged for having sex with their host. That was alright... it was to be expected.

Though Quint hadn't given him a whole lot of information in response, it still comforted him to know that Cora was fine. He chose to believe that if there was anything more Damien needed to know, Quint would have told him, including if anyone in the group had been accosted or treated poorly.

When Quint asked him what it was that she gave him, his expression became very confused. "What do you...?

What did he mean? Quint spoke to him as though he should know what he meant, but he was at a loss. The woman hadn't given him any items or information. The only thing he had gotten from her was the pain meds and the clothes he was wearing. He became cognizant of the hand on his chin and he frowned, pushing the man's hand away from him as respectfully as he could manage and pulling his head back.

"I'm not sure what you mean. She only gave me clothes and Tylenol or Ibuprofen or something for my headache." The headache part wasn't necessarily a bold-faced lie. After a night of no sleep, his head had been pounding in the morning after a fitful nap.

 

[Drobabes]

"She only gave me clothes and Tylenol or Ibuprofen or something for my headache."

Quint stared at him hard as Damien spoke, letting his own hand be pushed away. There was no true, one hundred percent and flawlessly accurate, lie detector test. If someone was good enough they could fool even the most seasoned of FBI agents, especially if they had any personal intel on the person they were attempting to deceive. But without some very decent training in the art, it was difficult to hide when you were lying, especially while under the influence of something. That being said, That being said, and knowing full well there was a possibility of being tricked, he detected nothing in Damien's expression or shift in his tone that told him otherwise. He wouldn't have even been questioning the mutt about it if he didn't fully suspect it was Angelique herself who slipped him the drug. The security was too tight, the time he had no doubt been stripped down, and, very obviously cavity searched, having been over twenty four hours ago now, he highly doubted Damien had time to find, and take, something on his own. It wouldn't have surprised him under any other conditions, but now they in a situation where they were eating and drinking whatever food and beverage Angelique chose to give to them. The possibility of any of them getting drugged was very high.

After a pause, he said, "well the last time I checked, Tylenol and Ibuprofen don't leave your eyes dilated."

He waited a beat and then gestured for Damien to give him the injured hand. Once it was close enough, he took grasped Damien's wrist firmly but gently enough to cause any unnecessary pain unless Damien himself were to start squirming. Which wouldn't be a surprise, seeing as Quint had no tools besides his own almost too short fingernails, of which to pull the old layer of dried goop off with. He would pinch and pull slowly, though, not caring for the mutts comfort so much as he wanted information, and to keep their deal intact.

"While I do this, we missed therapy yesterday morning. Why don't you start with our host? We can either talk about what happened last night, or you can tell me about the past. How you two met. She certainly recognized you right away."

Though his suggestion and question was obviously very pointed, wanting to discuss a specific person, Quint kept the same neutrality in his tone of voice as he had back when Damien was riding shotgun in the car. This is something that Quint intended to keep doing, even if at certain points he might need to walk away to take a break for himself, lest his own anger get in the way of the end goal.

 

[Poprockz]

During his time with her last night and later once he woke up again, he hadn't had much time to ponder what exactly she had given him, especially with how poor his mental faculties were at the moment due to exhaustion. Thinking back on it, he did find it strange that when she had slipped him the pills last night he had been able to ignore the pain and gain back enough energy to stay conscious for quite a while longer. The one he had taken a few hours ago had given him quite a lot of relief, but its effects seemed to wear off fairly quickly. That coupled with the fact that Quint said his eyes were dilated pointed to the pills being a bit less benign than he might have thought. Hopefully they were simply stronger pain meds though.

He tried his best to not show how painful it was for Quint to scrape off the skin to apply his goop. His teeth were clenched and his body was tense, though his face merely showed pinched eyebrows and his lips pressed together.
"Therapy" with Quint wasn't his favorite thing to do, but at least it might keep his mind off the pain, so he was willing to participate. The subject matter wasn't surprising given their situation. The way he spoke though... Damien thought he might be trying to reprimand Damien for basically cheating on Cora with their host, and that bugged him. Of course he would never have fucked anyone else if he had a say in the matter, but he didn't want Quint to think he was raped either. It wasn't like that- he had merely done what needed to be done. The subject made him uncomfortable, but he felt the strong need to defend himself, lest Quint try to poison Cora's opinion of him.

Out of habit, he slipped into the more cheerful persona he had when he wanted to play something off. The other man was given a fake smile and a nonchalant shrug and he said, "oh, last night? There’s not much to say about that. The session with Angelique was completely consensual. What could I do? Our beautiful hostess wanted some company in a more intimate capacity, and I obliged. It was a measured decision based on the continued welfare of the group. Though the servicing took a little longer than it normally would, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle." Damien spoke as though he had done her dishes or mowed her lawn, unaware that Quint could see how roughly he had been treated. He was hoping that Quint would find the logic in his words, being that his lover's brother claimed to be tactically-minded.

Why did his turtleneck feel so stuffy? He felt like his body was sweating a little, though perhaps it was from his body's soreness. Perhaps another pill would be given soon to give him some relief.

 

[Drobabes]

Quint kept stoically picking away at the wound, knowing full well that he could simply rip it off if he wanted to but feeling in no hurry, really. He did look up to pay attention to Damien's reaction as he spoke, finding it interesting that his whole demeanor changed from how he had been talking in the car previously.

The choice of wording and nonchalant, almost punk-like attitude was interesting. Sabastian's memory seemed to have been pretty spot on of how Damien acted when he didn't seem to want a wound poked and Quint again was questioning the dream in which he had been allowed to watch. There was definitely some deflection going on, the man in front of him obviously not wanting to see what had been done to him for what it was. But if Quint wanted to ever be able yo let his guard down around Damien, even slightly, then he was going to have to eventually pop that cyst and drain the foul, infected wound it had formed. It was a dirty job and not something he wanted to do, but nonetheless it would have to happen.

But not today.

The situation they were in was no place for unpacking trauma of that magnitude and trying to heal. So, for right now, he decided to try and lead Damien down a different mental path of breaking down his old set understanding of the world and trying to offer him something new to ponder on.

"It's interesting that you say it was a measured decision for the welfare of the group. Does that mean you felt as if they needed protecting? And if that's true, I'm curious why you feel like you need to be the one to protect them."

 

[Poprockz]

Damien blinked, caught off-guard by Quint's line of questioning. His guarded demeanor dropped a bit and he needed a minute to respond. He wasn't sure what Quint was getting at, as it seemed pretty obvious to himself.

"Don't they? We're all in Angelique's resort and there are at least three half-zombies and a fully turned one wandering around. We could be easily overpowered whenever she wants us to be. As far as why me..." His eyebrows furrowed in thought, "well, I'm the one she propositioned, so my decision might affect the group. If she gets angry, she might take it out on the rest of you. Furthermore, I'm the reason we're currently stuck here." The man cringed at a little jerk Quint made at his hand-skin, though he quickly tried to put his face into a more neutral expression. It felt like someone trying to very slowly rip off a bandaid if the bandaid was his own skin.

 

[Drobabes]

"Well, technically, we're not stuck here as you put it" he pointed out, starting to pick at a new angle.

"As she said during dinner, 'we're free to leave any time we like'. If we chose to, we could have left right after they took you into custody and all been safe."

As if Quint could feel the weight of someone standing behind him, he lifted his gaze to take a quick look around the room before returning to his work. His nostrils were still aflare with the putrid smell of dried cum, but sitting closer to Damien was helping to tamper it down. Although now he was beginning to pick up a whiff of salty sweat, and he wondered if he was more nervous from the drug currently coursing through his veins. Speaking of that, he had surprisingly good control of his mental faculties; though that, too, pointed to a flaw in his psyche. The inability to let his guard down was a learned defensive response. It was also very likely he simply didn't trust or like Quint, which was understandable, but the half zombie had seen first hand through Sabastian's dreams that this certainly wasn't the first time his walls had been erected.

"I'm not sure how extensive your knowledge of psychology is, but just as a short refresher, many of our reactions to how we handle the present moment often come from deeply routed perceptions of how the world works that we learn when we are young. Nature vs. nurture, traumatic events, sometimes just the lack of having our views challenged or given feedback that might change things. There's also the whole business of how a person can be affected by growing up with secure attachments, or the lack of them."

Quint changed angles again, going back to where he had been picking before giving it a small break to look up at Damien's face.

"Sometimes when we preemptively try to solve an issue that may not necessarily even be an issue at all-in this case, not angering our host, it very often points to something in our past that we learned we had to do in order to avoid something bad happening. We want control over the situation in order to feel safe. Does that feel like it rings true? Can you think of where that defense mechanism might have started?"

 

[Poprockz]

"It was an issue though," Damien insisted, shrugging. "I know the rest of you would be happy to leave me here, perhaps it would even be fitting, but I don't think Cora would choose to leave me like that..." His face became a bit somber, and there might have been just a hint of doubt in his own words. Even though he knew she loved him, there was always something whispering in the back of his mind that it was too good to be true and that even if she loved him now, that may not always hold true. Perhaps it was the part of him that tried to protect him from being hurt.

"So, if Cora wouldn't leave, then neither would the rest of you, making you stuck here until you find a way to get me out." He sighed, knowing that Quint probably wanted an answer to his actual question.

"As far as "where it might have started," I honestly can't tell you. For as long as I can remember, my parents weren't the easiest to deal with. To defy them was tantamount to treason, and such a thing simply made things more difficult than they already were," he grew very quiet, his lips pursing, "people don't realize how quickly something precious to you can be snuffed out like it was nothing."

Damien's eyes looked a bit distant as though his thoughts were elsewhere. How many times had he tried to form attachments, only to have them twisted from his grasp? Animals, people... not even plants. He had tried to care for some of the garden plants as a hobby, but they ended up dying. Sabastian hadn't outright accused him of doing it on purpose, but it was uncanny how every plant he tried to nurture died in short order. It was only later that he had discovered that his mother had hired someone to spray the plants with something detrimental to their health just to fuck with him.

 

[Drobabes]

He let Damien go on, not bothering to comment on his observation of why they might not leave. He was absolutely right about why they hadn't already gone on. It was interesting the reaction he had when he mentioned Cora, though, and Quint took special note to bring that up on a later session. You could have the most loving, understanding partner in the world, but if you never grew past your doubt or at the very minimum just accepted the love that was there in the moment, then eventually it could poison not only yourself, but you're relationship as well. Quint would know, as Sarah had at one point confessed to him that she had been considering divorce. She loved him, always would, but she hadn't been able to handle the constant doubt in their relationship that seemed to at times poison the happy future they could be having. That had been a very hard year for Quint, but in retrospect it wasn't much compared to the years of how much trust and faith Sarah had put into him, only to in turn feel as if her efforts were being tossed in the trash. Unintentionally as it had been.

As he looked at Damien, he paused the picking of his flesh and let the tall man simply sit with his thoughts. There was a time for prodding, and a just as important time for silence and reflection.

After what felt like an appropriate amount of time had passed, Quint started by going back to gripping the old dried goop layer and beginning to peel back, finishing before speaking once more.

"Do you feel like expanding on that?" Quint asked, pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at the small amount of blood that was seeping from the now raw wound. Once it was clean enough, he brought his tentacle out and let an appropriate amount ooze out onto Damien's hand, then evening it out to cover the whole wound.

"There's no real goal on where the conversation needs to go right now. Think of this as just a time to reflect, maybe even talk through how you used to feel or how the world feels to you now. You can view it from a detached lense if that would be easier, even, like you're viewing these things happening to someone else and you're just explaining how that person felt at that time."

He didn't want to give Damien the permission to completely change the subject, but he didn't want to be so restrictive that the conversation completely dried up either.

 

[Poprockz]

"A detached lense... hm." He considered it for a moment, wondering just how much he wanted to divulge to Quint. Somehow the idea of speaking about himself in the third person appealed to him though, as it made him feel like there was a bit of distance between who he was then and who he was now.

The man cleared his hoarse throat and attempted it, "Damien Finch... grew up to learn that trust and affection were things that could only be used to hurt you. Even if someone seemed like they would stay, or seemed like they might be genuine, they always disappeared or turned their backs one way or another. Nowhere was safe, no one was safe, and the mansion was essentially a prison where his mother could play tyrant. She never once missed an opportunity to tell him how worthless he was, how pitiful, or how foolish. At the same time, she was strangely possessive. She was possessive of Sabastian too. It was always odd how he never noticed how frequently coincidental things would happen to keep him from hooking up with people. Anyway, over time he started to believe the things she said and... and he..."

The man's voice broke and he looked as though his eyes had begun to get a bit misty, though it was quickly masked by a frown. He shook his head and scowled off to the side, "this is stupid, Quint. I would rather talk about Angelique if it's all right with you." The fact of the matter was that he didn't feel comfortable opening up to Quint. The man likely scoffed at his struggles and thought he was just as his mother had described him; he too was just another person who couldn't wait for Damien to trip and fall.

 

[Drobabes]

If Quint had not seen firsthand what Damien was talking about, he might have questioned why Sabastian was brought into the conversation and if the mutt was trying to manipulate him. But the fact that he had evidence to the contrary put a small itch in his nerves. Not quite a knot is his stomach, but it wasn't a very pleasant feeling. Margaret was no doubt a very cruel, manipulative, trash person and although yes, Quint did have disdain for the man before him, he was also able to empathize with the boy he once must have been.

"It may feel stupid, but I think it's more foolish to ignore the reality of what you grew up in and how that environment shaped you. If you want to be logical and recognize the pitfalls that might come now, then you have to eventually challenge your world views of what is right and wrong Damien" he replied, not missing a beat. But no sooner had he said it than he let go of Damien's wrist and let his own hands rest on his knees.

"But if it feels like too much for right now, then sure, we can move on. I noticed when I brought up what happened last night with Angelique, you seemed to get a bit defensive. Want to tell me what was going through your head when you responded?"

 

[Poprockz]

"I simply didn't want you to get the wrong idea," Damien replied, looking down at his hand and twitching his fingers. It already felt a lot better now that the goop had been reapplied. If only the rest of his body felt such relief- though he wouldn't have accepted drinking the stuff even if it had been offered in a golden chalice.

"I don't want Cora to worry about me more than she already does. She's an anxious person- if you misinterpret the truth and tell her that I was forced to bed Angelique it will just add more stress to her plate that she doesn't need. At the same time, I wanted to make it clear that Cora is the only person I would volunteer to share my bed with under normal circumstances. I neither want her to see me as a cheat, nor a victim because I'm neither of those."

 

[Drobabes]

"...nor a victim because I'm neither of those."

Quint kept his gaze steady so that the man couldn't just squirm away from this, knowing that there was a small sliver of opportunity for growth here.

"So if you had felt you had a choice in the matter, would you have declined Angelique?"

 

[Poprockz]

"Absolutely," Damien replied without hesitation. While Angelique was indeed beautiful, he wasn't attracted to women with dicks, especially ones who liked being on top. There was also the more important matter of him being in a very committed relationship.

 

[Drobabes]

Quint nodded solemnly, not really disclosing what he was thinking. After a moment of silence, he sat back a bit.

"You also made a point to state that it was completely consensual, and yet you just told me that you would have declined it you felt as if you had a choice. I just want to point out to you that those two things are at war with each other, and for your own sake, you should try to recognize that persuasion or a veiled threat does not equal consent. Those things are abuse. Certainly the second one, but the first when it has been pushed to cross someone's personal boundary."

Reaching up, he made as if he was going to adjust his hat before realizing he didn't have a hat on, so just gave his head a small scratch instead.

"As far as for how Cora will react, I'll just say this. I can't control what she may find out on her own. If Angelique, or someone working for her, drops some comment about something, she might fit the pieces together on her own. But as far as us" he said, gesturing a finger between them.

"What happens in therapy stays in therapy. It's very obvious that trust is an issue for you, so I'm not asking you to trust me. I will just keep reiterating that point until there's no more doubt. The only thing I'll tell her if she prods, is that you're alive, clean, and fed. And that we had a therapy session. I will not discuss anything we talked about; with her or anyone else. You have my word on that" he said firmly.

 

[Poprockz]

Damien struggled to reconcile what Quint was saying about the nature of his night with Angelique. Quint simply didn't understand that while he hadn't volunteered himself, he had indeed agreed to have sex with her without her having threatened anyone. Maybe it was more of a precautionary measure? He wasn't sure, but these topics weren't sitting well with him. It made him feel uneasy and he didn't want to think on it any harder than he had to.

As far as what Quint said regarding their sessions though... Quint's word meant very little to him. There was only one other person who hated him more than Quint, and she had Quint's ear. Integrity meant nothing when it came to people and their own hatred, and he didn't imagine Quint was different.

"Alright." Damien said, trying to keep his face and tone neutral, but it didn't take a genius to guess that he thought Quint was full of shit. "I realize it likely wasn't your desire to heal my hand, but I appreciate it nonetheless." He nodded at Quint respectfully.

 

[Drobabes]

"Well we both know if you try to go behind our backs it won't stay healed for long, so sure. Don't worry about it."

Though his words were obviously threatening, there was a distinct lack of anger or bite in his voice. Cora's brother was still very much in therapist and jailer mode and felt no need for intimidation factors. He was merely stating facts that they both knew were true, that's all. If Damien tried to hurt any of them, Quint would put a stop to it, and if the tall man was surprised by that then he was simply stupid in Quints opinion.

Letting the silence hang for a moment more, those ocean eyes watched Damien for a moment. He hadn't been paying strict attention to the time and did not intend on staying here for the whole two hours that were available to him, but he guessed he had only been there about fifteen minutes; twenty tops. They could go a bit further.

"Why don't you volunteer something" he said finally, breaking the tension before it got too awkward and that turtleneck started having it's own salty beads.

"Recent, long past, doesn't matter. And you can rant about me too. You're allowed to express any emotions you can, even if that means I'm the target. Just so long as you don't start getting physical, obviously."

 

[Poprockz]

Damien had nodded at Quint's statement, finding that he too might have said something like that were their positions switched. The silence had bothered him, but only insofar as it brought more attention to the fact that his body was aching and it was entirely too hot in that room with his current choice of dress.

Quint's suggestion that he discuss his feelings toward the zombie made him chuckle slightly. If Quint thought he was that stupid, then he was going to be disappointed. He had played that game before and it only took losing once or twice to realize that it was not a game worth playing. Of course there were many things he could have said about the man, about how he treated Cora, but he chose to keep his mouth shut and talk about other things. It was then that he launched into a long-winded tale of recent events.

"Who is Sam?"

Damien paused, "that was the first interaction I had with Kuznet. I didn't know it was him at the time, but he was definitely following us in some capacity. I was cooking pancakes at a house we had found to stay the night in, and I saw a flash from the tree-line. Cora and the rest of the group were inside, so I went to check it out. I almost went back inside when nothing was there, but I saw a note on a tree that said, "for your eyes only Damien- keep the present, you'll need it."

"When I searched around the tree, I found an old cassette player with a polaroid photo on it. The person depicted in the picture was someone I had never met before, but they were obviously being tortured. On the back of the picture written in blood were the words "who is Sam?" I turned on the cassette player and it was my own voice asking the question on repeat. I had said that at the base when Cora was almost roofied. Of course I felt like keeping it to myself was unwise, so I shared my discovery with Vin. I don’t know how he found out, but he did. The next tape I received was one of Sayori. I won’t go into detail on it, but he was obviously hurting her and she was speaking words he had instructed her to speak. It was a warning not to go against him again or he would hurt her more. I kept that one to myself.” He avoided Quint’s eyes, as they both knew that he was the reason for her unnecessary suffering.

“Our car broke down and someone we met in that town, Vin’s friend Liz, looked the car over. She said that someone had tampered with the car and removed a part, replacing it with a cork stopper that would eventually fall out. That was the place Sabastian got dosed, went berserk, and then left us. We then got to another military base and Cora and Vin went out to the car. They didn’t come back, so I started to worry. I made to leave the gates, but the guards didn’t let me out due to reports of an oncoming hoard. I insisted of course, so they told me that Cora and Vin had returned before things were shut down.”

“I searched… I searched for three days, I think. It was hard to tell. I didn’t eat, drink, or sleep much, so things started to blur together a bit. I couldn’t stop though. They were… all I had.” Damien shifted in his seat, and the pain from his body wasn’t the only pain that reflected in his expression.

“At first I thought the guards had lied and that they had gotten stuck outside, but then I started to think that they had finally left me. That… hurt more than anything. She had told me she loved me, told me she needed me. Cora accepted me and saw something good in me that I haven’t been able to fathom, and she told me never to leave her. I believed her, but in those moments I thought that perhaps she had been telling me what I wanted to hear in order to placate me until she could get away. Or that she had fallen out of love, or become tired of me. It made sense to me- I don’t deserve anything, least of all her. I still… don’t understand.” The man stared hard at the floor as he spoke, trying not to get emotional.

“Still, I couldn’t bear to stop searching. If she was in need of my help, I didn’t want to have given up on the basis of my own feelings. At one point I was feeling dizzy, so I went to the restroom. I found another ‘present,’ with a long red ribbon on it. It was a recording of Vin admitting to delivering Cora to Kuznet, and to them conspiring to keep me trapped in the base. My search continued, but this time all I could think about was murdering him.” He scowled. “Looking back, I feel like a fool for believing what was on that tape, seeing as it was too convenient for the circumstances. I can’t say my judgement was very sound at the moment though.”

“The sun was very strong, so I ended up collapsing. A few good samaritans thought I had heat stroke and maybe I did.” He shrugged, “they took me to the bar for some water and Dave gave me a drink. He told me that Vin was in one of their rooms and he gave me the key. I went up there to kill him. I don’t know if I would have had the strength to do so, but I had a knife and I intended to use it.”

He shook his head. “Bowie stopped me. He hissed at me and prevented me from going in the room- he even lifted himself up to my eye-level. It was only at that moment of frustration that I realized that this wasn’t what Cora would have wanted. She wouldn’t have wanted me to kill him- she thought I was better than that. I dropped the knife and went into the room. Vin and I talked about it and he said that the tape had been spliced. He had been told by the General what I had done to Cora and the other women. He asked me if it was true and I admitted it. I told him the truth and he wanted to beat me to death, so you could say that Bowie protected both of us. He’s disliked me ever since.” Damien sighed and tilted his head back against the chair, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t blame him, but I have to admit that it hurts. I thought we could be friends, but it’s beyond my reach now.” There was a pause before he looked back down at Quint with tired eyes, a weariness of the soul. “In a way, it’s actually Vin you have to thank for being alive right now. I tried to save you from the shed, yes, but the building was collapsing around us and something had fallen onto the door. If Vin hadn’t pulled it off, both you and I would be dead right now.”

 

[Drobabes]

The nod of acknowledgment actually surprised him a bit. Quint had half expected Damien to be offended, perhaps put up a bit of a fuss even. Was he still playing a game of it? Trying to earn Quint's respect, knowing that he was the bridge between himself and Cora? Something to think about for later. Something else, as well, was that chuckle that was given. Much like how Quint didn't trust Damien in the slightest, he could clearly hear the mistrust belied in that laugh that could have just as easily been a scoff. But the road of mutual respect would have to built eventually and Quint was willing to be the bigger man and start laying the first few bricks.

"Who is Sam?...that was the first interaction I had with Kuznet. I didn't know it was him at the time, but he was definitely following us in some capacity"

Quint held his composure well, but internally he cringed at that name. He had not immediately waken up in the cells where him and Sayori first met, but instead found himself in a private, and well armored, hospital wing. It was where Kuznet had taken him to preserve his life, when his heart had given out from the stress of the change. Before the zombification had been able to mix and change his own human genes, Quint had always struggled a bit with a bad heart. The doctors were never quite able to give him a proper diagnosis of what exactly was wrong with him; all they knew was that his heart had not been performing as well as it should have been, sometimes even missing a beat if he came down with a particularly nasty illness. Ray had known, or course, and made...special accommodations to ensure he could handle the stress he was put under. Sometimes Quint wondered if he had been born with a healthy enough ticker, but all the stress of their life is what had caused things to go awry. Whatever the case was, he had unfortunately lived through the change and come out the other side a stronger being. And once he was stable, he had been brought to the underground prison where he had first met Sam.

He's going to get my family, isn't he Quint?

The half zombie had been trying his best not to interact with the young man, but over the course of a few days he had not been able to completely shut him out. Eventually they had exchanged names and condolences for one another's situation. Quint didn't offer up much in the way of conversation, but Sam couldn't seem to stop himself even though Quint tried to warn him not to talk. To his credit, though, Sam seemed to be able to keep it superficial. Past pets, dreams he would like to accomplish someday. At one point he even got a good laugh out of Quint when he talked about his dream of owning a pet store, where he wanted to have a huge spider and bug enclosure right there in the front of the store, to scare off the parents that were bringing their kids in just to appease them and not actually investing in the care it took to keep a pet long term. And then Sam's brother joined him in the cell and Quint had to shut down. He knew what was likely going to happen and couldn't bear to witness it.

"Of course I felt like keeping it to myself was unwise, so I shared my discovery with Vin. I don’t know how he found out, but he did."

Because he never took his eyes off of us, Quint thought.

But you didn't know who's web you stumbled into...

He continued to listen, the pieces about the messages and their car being tampered with, Sabastian getting drugged, and how they ended up at the compound being nothing new to Quint. It was a different angle of the story, but Ray had made sure to whisper every game move he made into Quint's ear at night, so that he would know exactly when they would all be reunited as a family again.

"At first I thought the guards had lied and that they had gotten stuck outside, but then I started to think that they had finally left me. That… hurt more than anything. She had told me she loved me, told me she needed me. Cora accepted me and saw something good in me that I haven’t been able to fathom, and she told me never to leave her. I believed her, but in those moments I thought that perhaps she had been telling me what I wanted to hear in order to placate me until she could get away. Or that she had fallen out of love, or become tired of me. It made sense to me- I don’t deserve anything, least of all her. I still… don’t understand."

Quint again wondered if Damien was playing him. And while that could have been true, he also needed to consider the possibility that Damien was being at least somewhat honest here, if not completely, and would do no good to treat him like the criminal Quint thought he was if he wanted this therapy to work.

While he knew that Cora could have lied to get herself out of a dangerous situation, she wasn't one to play the long game and he knew for a fact that she did indeed love Damien. So Quint believed what she had told Damien was true, and stepped back from his own feelings to view it objectively and look at where the man sitting before him was standing.

Raised with horrible parents that we're cruel and possessive, basically tortured him. Made him feel like dirt and something that had come into this earth needing to earn it's keep rather than simply having value for existing. Because of this upbringing, and the eventual torturing, Damian had learned all the wrong coping mechanisms and how to live life; likely always chasing after a fleeting feeling that could never be grasped. Only temporarily scratched to stop the itch before it came back in full. And then here comes Quint's angel of a sister, who not only says the right things, but back them up with actions. It likely shook Damien's whole world view up in a way that nothing else could. It possibly made him question everything he had ever known and wonder if there was a better way to live. And then she was gone...yea, Quint could definitely see where the sweet dream of a better life might feel like a painted lie that eventually had to come crashing down.

"Still, I couldn’t bear to stop searching. If she was in need of my help, I didn’t want to have given up on the basis of my own feelings."

Damien was smart. Likely much smarter than he ever realized, and certainly something that his parent's would have been sure to try and snuff out of him, so that he never got to see just how little control they actually had over him if he ever tried to take it back.

"Bowie stopped me. He hissed at me and prevented me from going in the room."

Quint squinted his brows for just a brief second, as if he was questioning the truth of that. But just as quickly, he dropped the skeptical look and adjusted himself in his seat, finding the temperature in the room to be quite comfortable despite Damien's sweaty body telling otherwise. He decided he would seek the serpent out at a more convenient time and get Bowie's perspective on what really happened that night.

"He asked me if it was true and I admitted it. I told him the truth and he wanted to beat me to death...I don’t blame him, but I have to admit that it hurts. I thought we could be friends, but it’s beyond my reach now."

That was something Quint didn't know about, and while he definitely had his suspicions of who Delvin really was, that experience of Damien's put Vin in a slightly lower bracket on his suspicious person's list. But, Delvin still was a mysterious man who Quint had no personal information on and who had obviously been put into prison for a reason. So Damien's next statement of them both being saved by the man was seemingly given little regard. In fact, Quint thought it was only a natural human reaction when under such a high stress situation. Of course Delvin had tried to be a hero, and Quint was grateful that he was still alive, of course. He still had very mixed feelings about it though...

The memories were so blurry, but certain parts so clear... The fire, the smell of the smoke. Damien's stressed voice asking for trust when he could have just as easily left him for dead and lie about it; told Cora he had tried but just couldn't get to him in time. It would have been much easier that way, and they could have ran off together into the sunset, Damien left to be her comforter and protector.

As if he was once more feeling the sweaty hand that had gripped his own, Quint shifted a bit uncomfortably and cracked his knuckles before rubbing each finger with purpose. He gave a little nod in acknowledgement and cleared his throat.

"That's quite a lot. Thank you for telling me."

Was it just Damien, or was there an actual hint of authenticity in that thank you?

"I want to bring you back around to something that you stated earlier. You said you kept looking for Cora even though you thought she might have abandoned you. And you had mentioned that you put your own personal feelings aside in case she was in need of help."

He gave a little pause before continuing, and then with purpose, he leaned forward towards Damien, his gaze becoming just a bit intense.

"Do you realize how smart that is Damien? That shows thinking and mental maturity that many people don't have. I'm not tooting your horn or putting other people down-other people are not stupid just because they don't think like that. But the fact that you were able to set aside your own personal bias and feelings in the moment, in order to help another person who you felt as if could have betrayed you-not many people can do that. Many people get hung up on the betrayal and their own hurt feelings, and never bother to take the next step of what is right, or needs to be done in order to move forward and heal. Quite honestly I'm shocked you were capable of doing that considering what your parents put you through, and what they likely did to blind you of how much power you actually hold over yourself."

He shut up then, giving Damien some time to ponder that and let it sink it.

 

[Poprockz]

Damien stared at Quint, as gobsmacked as if Quint had leaned over and planted a big kiss on the lips. His mouth was even open slightly in shock as though his mind couldn't quite compute Quint ever calling him "smart" or "emotionally mature." When he was finally able to shut his mouth, his eyes betrayed uncertainty, searching Quint for a hint of dishonesty. Would he recognize it if he saw it? After all, Quint might be a better liar than he assumed. Why would he lie though? What was the reason? Was Damien being gullible to consider that he might be genuine? Why did being complimented like that pinch his heart while making his throat feel like there was a lump in it? He was afraid to accept that sort of praise from anyone but Cora. Even with Cora he saw that sort of thing more as an expression of her love.

Him, powerful? Not without his money or influence. Physically powerful, maybe. He had the weakest of wills and an even weaker soul, so why did Quint think he was different? He couldn't accept it.

"I'm... not- I.. you- I don't understand." He shook his head and looked quite flustered, finally finding his voice again. "That-that wasn't strength, that was selfishness. If she hadn't left me for the reasons I thought she had and she was in trouble, then I would need to help her to keep her safe, to keep her happy- to keep her with me. Isn't that selfish?"

 

[Drobabes]

He could tell Damien was struggling with this, so he sat back a bit to give him a little room.

"That-that wasn't strength, that was selfishness. If she hadn't left me for the reasons I thought she had and she was in trouble, then I would need to help her to keep her safe, to keep her happy- to keep her with me. Isn't that selfish?"

"I'm not saying you didn't have personal feeling influencing your decisions. Of course you wanted to be with her, that's human nature. We're all a little bit selfish, some more than others. We all go after things we want or outcomes we want. But again, most people get hung up on the betrayal. Most people would not think twice about if the other person might be in danger, and that's again, not because they are stupid but simply because they are hurt and feel betrayed. Why care about the other person when they obviously don't care about you? You also had much more motivation to feel more deeply betrayed than most, and less reason to ensure her safety. After all, what could you have done on your own to help her that the army couldn't have done better? Even if someone else felt the need to set selfishness aside, the safer course of action would have been to simply inform a guardsman that they had left and to seek help in getting them back safely, not put their own neck on the line."

Quint cleared his throat a bit before going on.

"It seems like you're struggling to accept that you did something that wasn't selfish. Why do you think you're not capable of that? Do you think there's a possibility that your parent's influence over you warped your reality of what you are? I want you think about that honestly. Whatever conclusion you come to about yourself is your choice, you have free will. But you also have to recognize that environment and upbringing does have deep impact of how we look at the world and interact with it. It's very difficult to someone to fathom anything positive in their life and accept it, when the only input they've had from a young age was negative. In your case, it wasn't just negative, it was down right toxic. Your case was much more than simple abuse where a parent might have been negligent; said or done the wrong things while not realizing how much damage they were truly doing to their child. In your case, it really seems as if your parents went out of their way to keep you down. And I'll be transparent with you here-this is my own personal experience and bias when I say this, but I have found that people who try to make others feel less than are often intimidated by those people that they are trying to keep down. I've noticed that if they don't feel threatened by someone, then they won't invest any energy into trying to tear them down, because why would they need to?"

Again he paused. He had said a lot, and he felt as if it was getting close to this session needing to be over. You never wanted to overload someone with so much that they couldn't ponder it and take it all in. Infact, he would have likely stopped the session sooner, but he felt as if Damien needed to face this about himself.

 

[Poprockz]

As he listened to Quint, he found himself struggling very hard with the words he was hearing. Quint was asking him to question the belief that he was unworthy, a belief that had been cemented in him every day, every month, every year he had stayed in that mansion. Weak. Selfish. Foolish. Worthless... These were the words he would have used to describe himself, and it was hard seeing himself as anything but those things. One wasn't lovable and admirable simply by existing- it was one's actions that determined such things, and he had never earned those types of titles.

He had murdered, raped, kidnapped and more. His good deeds were all overshadowed by his own selfish desires. Saving Quint? That was for Cora's sake. Rescuing the three of them? Also for Cora's sake. Her own kindness and love inspired him to want to be a better person, but for him he felt as though he was simply learning how to do things as they should be done rather than doing them because he was genuinely a good person.

Why would his mother feel threatened by him as a child? Why had she treated him so cruelly? He hadn't wanted to hurt her, nor had he wanted anything extravagant. All he had wanted was for her to stroke his hair and tell him she loved him, that she was proud of him, and that he meant something.

Damien's eyes welled up and he looked away from Quint, trying his absolute best to keep it together. It wasn't enough though, tears starting to come down despite himself. He felt ashamed of such a display, but they just kept coming. The man leaned forward and rested his forehead on his hand so his face was no longer visible.

"My apologies," he said. "I think my lack of sleep has caught up with me. We should stop here."

 

[Drobabes]

There was an awkward moment where Quint wasn't sure if he was going to need to do more for Damien. He had expected some discomfort when hitting such touchy topics but hadn't expected to get there so quickly. He found himself a bit unprepared as he watched Damien struggling with his emotions, tears soon spilling down his face, and it was a relief when the other man decided to end the session himself.

"Right" he said, giving a small nod, though Damien didn't seem to notice.

Taking one last look around the room, he subtly took in a deep breath to get a whiff of the clean smell coming from Damien's earlier bathing, and then held his breath as he stood and made his way to the door. He only took a cursory glance back before giving a few light taps to let the butler know he was done.

A small scowl soon settled onto his face as he made his way out. Now it was back to business, and not only was he going to have to break the less than pleasant news to the rest of the group about the deal he had made...but he was going to have to face Sayori.

Not being able to help himself, he reached upped and rubbed the side of his neck where the little love bite had been left before dropping the limb back down in defeat. Did he have enough time to sneak into the bathroom and try to cover it with some makeup? Possibly; but the very thought of that put a bad taste in his mouth. Realistically it was nothing that she had any say in or authority over, and yet Quint still felt a responsibility not to lie to her about it. He was already feeling guilty enough that it was the one thing she hadn't wanted to happen, and yet it was almost unavoidable. Would she accept that Angelique had stayed above the pants, for the most part? He had at least managed that! And he still planned on getting them all out of here before he had to pay up. Yea. She would just have to believe him...

The frown deepened a bit more.

 

[Poprockz]

Damien was grateful for Quint's swift exit, having needed some private time to get it all out. He wasn't sure what had come over him but he had become extremely emotional. The thought of Quint trying to console him made him uncomfortable. It would likely have been an awkward pat on the shoulder or something similarly weird and disingenuous.

He had stripped off his shirt in short order, putting on a shorter sleeved one that had been left for him. It was simply too damn hot to keep that turtleneck on. A while later, he was given another pill and some food, bringing with it relief and relaxation. Then... all he had left was time to think about the things he had discussed with Quint.

---------------------------------

Nathaniel led Quint back to his room. The air between them wasn't awkward, but the butler wasn't making small talk with him either. Perhaps he had simply sensed the fact that Quint wasn't in the chattiest mood and refrained from speaking because of it.

Once they reached the doors, he gave Quint a polite smile and nod. "Get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow." It was said matter-of-factly, and the zombie turned and left now that his task had been completed.

The door swung open, Sabastian standing there with Sayori over his shoulder behind him. Both looked very pleased to see him. The other zombie had sensed his approach and alerted everyone else that Quint had returned. Neither of them had noticed the hickey on his neck, but Sabastian looked at Quint with confusion for a moment as his nose wrinkled.

Quint smelled like sex, the scent clinging to his clothing. The weird thing though was that it smelled like Damien's cum; he had smelled it before unfortunately, so he recognized it instantly. The other smell of cum he didn't recognize. Was it Quint's? He hadn't gotten the misfortune of smelling it yet, but that raised a whole host of questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to. Had Quint... fucked Damien?

Back when Quint had reset the man's arm previously, he had detected a hint of arousal from the other zombie and had thought there could be a possibility of the guy having a sadistic hate-boner thing for Damien. Quint didn't seem like the sort of guy who would overpower someone and take advantage of them like that though- he just didn't have it in him. HIs eyes widened slightly as he saw the hickey. Oh god, had Damien consented to that? Was Damien cheating on Cora now with Quint?! Was Quint pretending to hate on him to hide their illicit affair?! What was he supposed to do with that info? Should he tell Cora?