The Danger ABC's

Chapter 10: Drowning Midair

Days passed, and Call was pretty sure he could shoot a Glock backwards with his eyes closed if it came down to it. He was sore from the constant exercises and maneuvers that Alex made him do from hand to hand, and had little bruises and cuts from the blunted knives they used. Every day, he expected Aaron to be led through the door against all odds. And every day, he gave up a little of ever getting out of this place. Constantine was still being vague about how he and his dad got into crime, saying they were "old friends" every time. They trusted Call more now, that he'd accepted Constantine's offer. He carried a Glock on his belt and a knife at his side, just like everyone else in the compound. Call was ashamed to feel more at home here than he had in a long time.

Call had a routine, now that he didn't have to steal anymore. He'd asked about his dad, but Constantine said they were taking care of it, and Call opted to believe him. According to Constantine, Call could go see him after he helped with a couple of jobs. Call wasn't satisfied with that answer, but seeing as Call hadn't visited for a while anyway he figured it wouldn't make a difference to his dad. Every day, Call would grab breakfast from his room, (which he was a little paranoid about because it was always fully stocked, and he was pretty sure they crept in while he was sleeping) train with Alex, eat lunch with Drew, go see Constantine, have a strange talk with Joseph on the way back to his room, and then wander around until it was dinner time. Every day, Call's anxiety grew. He was replaceable, and guessing on Constantine's excitement every time he mentioned the intel Aaron was supposedly bringing back, Call wondered if they were willing to sacrifice him for 'the greater good'. Or bits of him, at least.

Constantine, Call found, was one of those people with a sadistic grin on his face and a malevolent twinkle in his eye, sweet as pie until you decided to cross him and then it was all over. Alex had started going harder on him, and with each passing day and the looming certainty of the succession Alex grew more and more distant. Drew was as cheery as ever in the cafeteria that day, and Call cut his meatloaf into increasingly tiny pieces while Drew ranted about how his dad would make sure they were together on all the jobs and how he was so happy Drew was making friends. Call mentally compared the images of happy and Joseph together, and they didn't click. Call was friends with Drew because he needed to be. Putting up the pretense of having friends made it less likely that they would suddenly change their minds about having him in the gang. Call was snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar name.

"And they say Aaron Stewart came back today with the intel and that they're holding him in a special cell until Constantine himself comes to interrogate-"

"Drew." Call growled.

"Yes?" Drew asked, looking up from his plate to stare questioningly at Call.

"I need to know where that is. Right now." Call stood up, the glass of water adjacent to him sloshing onto the table with the movement.

"I think it's the last cell when you go in there, the corridor straight down the staircase when you come in that used to be a ton of offices." Call's view of the compound was shaky at best, and Drew's directional sense wasn't exactly perfect, but it was worth a shot. Call bolted out of the room, almost tripping and catching himself on the wall when he made a sharp left. Call sped down the staircase, putting several guards on alarm, but he didn't care. The last cell. The last cell. Call ran past room after room of groaning people, ignoring the stench of death in the air until he came to... nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Constantine was cutting into one of his dark red apples, staring at Call as if it were perfectly normal to lounge around in one of your old cells. He tilted his head at Call, apparently expecting an explanation. Call's knees were shaking, he couldn't catch his breath, but he still managed to spit out something along the lines of "Where's Aaron" before he slumped into the chair across from Constantine.

Constantine grinned a grin that made it almost to his ears, and it made Call wonder what his bad side was like, and shiver as a result.

"We brought him in today, took a little longer than we anticipated, but we got him. Had to send him a little toe from one of the scum we got lying around here. He couldn't tell the difference, in pretty bad shape by the time it arrived." Call was mortified, and apparently it showed because Constantine's grin lit up even more. "Don't worry lover boy, we haven't knocked him up too badly. Pristine condition, if I do say so myself. After we get the info, we'll drop him off in your room. Probably have some explaining to do, eh? Joseph will listen in on you, wouldn't want you to say anything too... revealing." He cocks an eyebrow at Call with the statement, as if he could see Call's wavering intentions.

"If he starts to get shouty, bitey, or otherwise aggressive, do yell."

"You're armed, anyway. Should know how to use that thing pretty well." Constantine removed his knife from the slice he was cutting and pointed at Call's holster.

"If you wanna keep him around for... personal use, we got a crew that'll break him in for ya. Nothing too visible, obviously. Well, nothing that won't heal in a couple of weeks." Constantine laughed, a high, cold laugh that made Call shove his hand in the pocket of his hoodie to stop it shaking.

"I don't need him... broken in. I can deal with Aaron by myself. I just need to talk to him." Constantine placed his half-eaten apple on the table, bit the apple slice off his knife, and threw the knife into the apple at such velocity that it rolled for a solid 2 feet before stopping at the edge of the table.

"Your choice, I guess. You're a Madden now. Just don't let- 'feelings' get in the way of doing what needs to be done. He should be up there by now." The word feelings was spat as if it were a bad taste in his mouth. Constantine nodded at Call as way of dismissal and Call walked up the stairs to his room, where Joseph was waiting at the door. Call bit the inside of his lip so hard that he could taste the coppery tang of blood. His heart is going a million miles a minute, a slew of thoughts are racing through his head. 'Aaron hates him now.' 'He's failed.' 'His dad hates him.' 'He's just getting in the way.' He tames the chaos into something resembling order, and swings open the door, half hoping no one is waiting for him on the other side.

"Call."