Chapter 328: A shell of a man

Colby was a shell of a man.

It was disappointing, but Brent had always known that the moment that his brother abandoned him that he would become useless. Bullying him didn’t even feel...satisfying. It was a hard pill to swallow given all of the plans that he had for the man.

He wouldn’t even give him the reaction that he wanted.

The room that Aunt Dina had brought them to was at the farthest end of the jail that she’d made. It was a wet room, like Brent had wanted, with stone walls easy for cleaning, a drain in the center of the room, and a few chests tucked against the far wall probably full with things that Brent wouldn’t need.

While he did have the intention to cause bodily harm to Colby, he didn’t want to inflict harm just for the sake of it. He wanted him to know exactly what Brent went through, without holding back. No pulling his fingernails out or anything as barbaric and awful as that.

He wasn’t his brother, after all. He was Brent. The Field Guide.

He was better than his brother.

Colby wasn’t treated roughly as he was brought into the wet room. He was carried carefully into the center. Not quite on top of the drain, but near it. Aunt Dina led the way, followed closely by Brent, Eleanor and Henry, Kellen, and Vance. Sergei and Lieutenant Parker had obviously been the ones escorting Colby into the room, and Rhys? Rhys was near the door. A guard of sorts, his eyes glowing like a damn beast.

When Brent had looked back at him, the man had looked ready to kill. His bright yellow gaze felt more like a warning than a comfort. Like he was warning Brent not to take it too far, for Kellen’s sake. Brent knew that might not be the case, but having someone in the room that wasn’t completely gung-ho for him to rip Colby from limb to limb was...a little comforting.

He knew that if things went too far, Rhys would stop him. Brent knew, in his heart of hearts, that Sergei wouldn’t. The man wanted to make sure that Brent was happy, and if he thought tearing a man apart was what would do that, he would let it pass.

It was...very S Class of him, in a way. Brent swallowed even thinking that. Yeah, Sergei was an S Class in the same way that Rhys was. The same way that...Kellen was.

Kellen, his best friend, was staring at Colby like he wanted to flay him alive. Eleanor, his mom, wasn’t much better. Even Henry, the sweet, loving, city Guide was staring at Colby like he was dirt beneath his shoe. He was right, but dear lord, there was no one but Rhys who was going to stop him.

It was a good thing he was a Time Esper. He’d probably be able to stop all of them just to talk some sense into Brent if he went too far.

Why was Brent so worried about that? About not being able to stop? It was simple.

He’d never been in a situation where he was able to get revenge like this before. He was unaccustomed to holding himself back in situations like this, and honestly, his bloodline wasn’t exactly known for being sane. He’d made it out okay thus far, but who knows? Something could change in him the moment he laid his hands on Colby.

He was worried that the moment he wrapped his hand, bionic or otherwise, around Colby’s arm, something might snap in him.

Sergei and Lieutenant Parker forced Colby up and onto a chair that Aunt Dina brought over. They didn’t tie him down, but they weren’t gentle. Colby didn’t react.

He was listless, the hope and excitement drained from him. He knew he was a dead man, the same way Brent knew that if he sent a piece of Colby to his brother, it wouldn’t matter. The heartless asshole that was his brother wouldn’t care. Damnit. This would only be minorly satisfying.

Brent was pissed that he’d taken even that from him.

"Brent? Are you okay?" Kellen’s soft whisper stirred Brent from his thoughts. He shook himself, shaking away the annoyance he was feeling already and turned towards the task at hand. First things first, he didn’t want to get his clothes dirty. Not the none-black stuff, anyways.

Brent moved towards one of the chests and letting his curiousity get the better of himself, he opened it. A small shiver of glee went down his spine at the fact that he could do that with two hands, even as the smell of iron hit his nose.

He was right to assume that the chests held tools for torture. They were only two degrees away from the constant infighting that had plagued all continents and now had a main enemy to target outside of the gates. This stuff was probably necessary then, and was tragically necessary now.

Brent closed the lid, not needing to look at the others as he took off his jacket and then his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Sergei asked, his hand coming down on Brent’s shoulder, halting him from undoing the rest of his jacket. Brent turned, looking up into the bright, monstrous silver/grey gaze of the man he loved, and smiled.

"Making sure I don’t ruin my clothes?" Brent replied and watched as Sergei didn’t change. Not visibly to anyone else, but Brent saw the way his gaze softened slightly.

"Understood." He said, squeezing Brent’s shoulder before he stepped back. Brent could feel how the others were whispering to each other, chatting about something that he couldn’t pick up on. Brent focused on what he was doing.

He got rid of his undershirt, since it was white, and was about to pull on his darker clothes again when something else was thrust into his face. Brent blinked, confused, until he followed the arm that had thrust the shirt in front of his eyes. Sergei.

"Wear my shirt instead." Sergei said, his eyes still bright. "I don’t care if I have to throw it out later. It’ll make traveling back lighter. You, however, need your clothes." Brent wanted to argue with him. He truly did, but the air was already thick with power. He knew that Sergei wasn’t the sole one responsible for it, hell, Brent’s own powers were mixed up in the air, but he knew that pushing Sergei right now might result in this being rushed.

"Are you sure?" Brent had to ask. He couldn’t stop himself and he watched as Sergei’s expression softened further.

"Of course I am. Blood doesn’t wash out that well of normal clothes. I think Field Guides are a bit confused on that bit since your clothes are meant to repel such things." His lips curled up in a slight smile. "I bought most of the outfits you and Kellen wore, remember? I also provided the fabric from my Guild’s gate." Sergei shifted closer until Brent could feel the warmth of his body against the side of his own. "I am intimately familiar with the clothing you prefer to wear, Brent, and I would rather waste these useless garments than yours." It was intense, that was for sure, but Brent could feel the care behind it.

"O-Okay." Brent agreed, raising his hand to take the shirt from him. Sergei, thankfully, wasn’t topless. Otherwise everyone would be able to see the claw marks Brent had made on his back last night. Brent blushed slightly, hoping that Sergei’d had the mental capacity to have his back turned as he changed. Brent was fine because, well, he was Brent, but Sergei?

Yeah, better to keep that under wraps.

Brent changed quickly.

Once in Sergei’s slightly baggy shirt, he turned and found that the others had broken into groups to chat. Vance, Aunt Dina and Lieutenant Parker were chatting to each other, while the Woods had gathered together as well. It was only Rhys who remained by the door. Protective, solid, and when he caught Brent’s eye, he gave a slight smirk.

Brent nodded, glad he was there, and Rhys nodded as well.

"What are you and Rhys speaking about?" Brent turned, meeting Sergei’s gaze and he felt himself soften.

"Nothing bad, I promise. He’s my captain, remember? He has to look out for me." Sergei did not seem pleased to hear that, but that only made Brent grin more. "He’s just making sure I don’t go too far." Brent told him warmly and Sergei scowled.

"I could do that too." He muttered, but even his bitter, annoyed response told Brent all he needed to know. Chuckling, Brent cupped Sergei’s face with his hands and pulled him down to kiss him. Sergei didn’t stop scowling, but his grumbling stopped.

"You silly man. We both know you’d rather make sure I was having fun instead of stopping me. That’s why we need someone like Rhys around. He’ll be able to stop all of us if we get too angry. You know the Woods are pissed, and I can tell you are too." Sergei flinched.

"He’s yours." Sergei said, as if that meant anything in this situation.

"My sweet, adorable Sergei," Brent started, surprising Sergei and the others in the room, "you would never interfere, but you also wouldn’t stop me either." Sergei was offended by that, but he didn’t argue with him. Brent kissed him again. "Now, I’ve changed, so it’s time." He patted both of Sergei’s cheeks lightly before he dropped his hands and turned. He was now able to see Colby from the side.

He was bent in half, barely upright, his hands dangling uselessly in his lap. He was barely conscious, barely aware. Fucking couldn’t give him a damn thing, could he? His damn brother. Had to break the one thing that he wanted to get revenge on.

"We’ll have to drain his fortune faster than I thought." Brent muttered. That was the only thing his brother cared about. Money, and the power that came with it.

If Brent transferred all of the money that he could potentially gain access to away from him, that would be more of a punishment to him than anything he could do to Colby. The only thing that was holding him back were a few clerical issues that kept popping up, that were no doubt because of his brother.

After he was done with Colby, he would make sure that was his next mission. He was sure if he asked Eleanor for some discrete help, the two of them could tackle this easily. Maybe even easier if Sergei was able to tag along. Brent had no idea how Eleanor’s powers worked.

He didn’t need to, either.

Brent grinned. God, this was going to be good.