Chapter 329: A family supports each other

*Warning, this scene contains violence, blood, gore, things of that nature. Not extreme, but read at your own risk.

Brent had never had to rip someone’s limb off before. It was something he’d never had to consider.

Of course, he’d had to saw off limbs before, but never pull. Kellen had implanted into his mind that it was a barbaric way to treat the people they were tending to. Numbing the location and sawing it off was the better option, and you were less likely to run into issues later.

After all, while they may know their own strength, one wrong move and suddenly you weren’t just pulling off their damaged limb, you were pulling them apart as a person. Kellen had taught him that with great power came great responsibility, and Brent had listened to him.

Even now, he knew that Kellen was right, but Brent didn’t really care if he hurt Colby too much.

After all, he could still remember the beating when he’d first arrived, the way he’d snatched him, the way he’d bullied, belittled and bothered him for years, a fucking decade before he’d fled and hidden himself on the front lines in another city across an ocean.

They’d still found him, and honestly, he had himself to blame for that. He’d let himself get captured on camera, something he’d avoided for a long time. He’d almost thought that he would have been fine.

Then his grandfather died, suspiciously, and now Brent was here. Alive against everyone’s wishes, and now, they’d captured the man who had taken part of his life from him.

Brent was furious, but calm. The anger didn’t control him, not yet at least, and as he adjusted his grip on Colby’s arm with both of his hands, he let out a shaky breath.

In the moments before Brent had assumed this position, Lieutenant Vance had approached him and let him know that no matter what, he would be there to help. Whatever that meant, and with his eyes glowing the green that showed off his powers as a healer, Brent had simply nodded.

Now, with the others around him, Brent didn’t even bother trying to speak to Colby. It was disappointing that they weren’t able to exchange words and Brent wasn’t able to get accountability from him that way. However, he could get it in a different way.

Brent didn’t know how much strength to use. It was a strange dilemma as he sunk his fingers into the tender flesh of Colby’s arm. The skin was slightly cool to the touch, and resistant to his touch. Brent tightened his grip, but Colby didn’t even flinch. The man was numb to anything and everything. It was like Brent had already dealt him brain damage, and there was a flicker of a moment where he wondered if his brother had planted anything in Colby’s head.

Colby would have welcomed the attention, but his brother wouldn’t have done something like that because it would have taken too much of his time. The moment passed and Brent realised that the man was really just that checked out.

He wondered if that would continue as Brent put his foot on Colby’s thigh, bracing himself. He clenched his teeth, knowing his grip had to be bruising on his arm as Brent gave a small tug. Colby moved, and with that simple action, all of it came flooding back.

Brent’s face suddenly felt hot, his breathing changing until it was ragged, rough. He could feel the others approach, could feel them getting ready to open their mouths.

"I’m fine." Brent spoke up before they could interfere. He didn’t want to explain anything at the moment, but he was sure that it was obvious that this was affecting him. Of course it was.

He’d just realised how much effort it took to rip someone limb from limb. There had to be fucking intent, and fuck, there had been a small, lingering part of him that had hoped that maybe it had been an accident. A terrible, horrible accident that his brother had simply used to his advantage.

That was not the case, and Brent’s heart screamed in pain.

It screamed because it had seen how families could be, through the Woods, through Guilds, through every other interaction he’d had with others. They might not have even been blood-related but there were people who were loyal to others like siblings. It was Brent. Just Brent and his fucked up family that was like this.

Damn his brother. Damn Colby. Damn all of them for blaming him for something he had never had any control over. It was just as well that he was going to take everything from them and ruin their plans. This had been a long time coming for them. Those useless fucks who hated him for no damn good reason.

Who had taken things from him and tried to ruin his name, his reputation, his face, his body. They had done everything, tried to break his mind and soul, and Brent had persisted. He’d continued to live and thrive against their wishes.

Fuck. Them.

Brent dug his boot into Colby’s thigh, not even caring that the man was barely alive, just a puppet at this point as he gave a violent, bone-crushing tug.

A sick popping sound filled the air, followed along with this awful, stomach-churning tearing sound. Blood sprayed, a distant memory, as Brent felt like it was his own arm coming off, not Colby’s. The pain that seared through his arm, as if it was his own coming off, not Colby’s, made Brent’s skin prickle.

His gag reflex tensed, bile rising up his throat but he kept it down. He’d worried that he would have fucked up, taking too much, but it appeared that Brent had applied just enough pressure to not only pop the shoulder joint, but tear the skin there as well.

Brent was stunned, the warm flesh in his hands as he stared at the muscle, tissue and sinew that he’d torn through. He’d never seen a bone like this, so exposed but somehow...clean? This couldn’t be right.

When Colby had taken Brent’s arm it hadn’t been this clean. Brent’s phantom pain throbbed as he remembered. He still had a shoulder joint, his arm not cleanly taken off. It was almost a pity that Brent had been so good at it, his brows furrowing in confusion as he stared, blood covering him.

It took him a moment to realise that there was a ringing in his ears, preventing him from hearing any of the chaos that was in the room. Like he’d wrapped himself in a giant bubble, his body keeping him safe, protected, as he did something he’d needed to do all of his life.

As soon as Brent tuned in, the arm warm in his hands, and his eyes slid to Colby’s face, the bubble shattered. The long, horrified scream that left Colby’s mouth mimicked the sound that Brent had done, but as a child. It pierced his ears, making Brent wince at how suddenly it appeared in his ears. He was sure that if he’d been paying attention in the beginning, it probably wouldn’t have shocked him as much.

It was only then that several hands grabbed him, pulling him back. His foot fell off of Colby’s thigh and he would have lost his balance if Sergei wasn’t there.

"We’ve got you." He stated firmly, someone taking the limb from Brent’s hands and marching towards Colby as Brent was dragged back. Lieutenant Vance.

Brent watched in stunned silence as the man pressed the arm carelessly against Colby’s shoulder socket and Brent felt his gag reflex activate again.

Oh that was fucking disgusting. He had to turn his head away as the muscle from the arm and the muscle from his shoulder reached for each other, locking together. It had to be painful, given how much Colby was screaming, before he suddenly fell silent.

"Did he finally pass out?" It was Kellen’s uncaring voice that spoke up. It wasn’t surprising that he was one of the men supporting him. Sergei sighed.

"Good. His screams were getting irritating." Sergei growled.

"Get some earplugs then. We aren’t done." Eleanor warned from the other side of Brent. "Brent, sweetie, how are you doing? Are you with us? Oh, the poor thing. Kellen, wipe his face clear of the blood." Brent flinched as something came towards his face, covering it for a minute as a hand pressed down.

It was a clumsy gesture, but the absurdity of it all had Brent bursting out in laughter.

"I’m fine." Brent rasped. "Really." Brent turned his head to look at Eleanor. The older woman’s eyes were fierce. Glowing purple in the slight darkness of the room.

"You’re covered in that man’s blood. There is no way you’re okay. Let us tend to you." She insisted. It was that kind of mentality that had endeared Brent to Kellen, and he could tell that the man got it from both parents.

Brent softened, smiling even as he winced at the sound of bone and flesh mending. God, had it always been that gross? He’d never felt this way around Taylor before. She’d always been...annoyed, but caring.

Then again, he’d never seen her around the bad guys they’d have to take care of. Maybe she was just as...intentional as Lieutenant Vance was.

"Do you want to go again, Brent?" It was Aunt Dina who asked. She wasn’t right next to them, instead a few steps away near Lieutenant Parker. Her eyes were the bright red of her powers, even brighter than the blood that covered the walls in a violent spray, and dripped down from Colby’s fingertips.

Said fingertips were twitching again, Lieutenant Vance having done a good job even if when he turned his face was full of disgust.

"Pardon?" Brent asked, a little distracted by all of the things he was noticing at the moment.

"Do you want to rip it off again? Or do you want to go to the other one? I wouldn’t recommend a leg, but you could saw it off at the knee." Aunt Dina’s offerings were sincere, while Brent heard Kellen inhale to the left.

Brent frowned, staring at the currently unconscious Colby, knowing that he would be awoken the moment he made a decision. Did he want to do it again? Did he want to harm him more than Colby had harmed him?

Brent turned his head, looking towards the chests.

"Are there razorblades in there?" Brent asked casually. Sergei sucked in slowly.

"Parker." Aunt Dina said and the man turned for the door. "We’ll get some." She promised. "So, you’re not done?" She asked and Brent, unintentionally, raised a hand to his face. To the scars that had disfigured him as soon as his arm was gone and he couldn’t fight back as hard.

"No."