InsaneJournal

Will was happy to finally get to relax at the end of a long work week. He’d moved into his new apartment with Alan on Tuesday (and despite his talk, it wasn’t all that bad living with the bard, except when epiphany struck at 3am), and the drag show the night before had been laugh-a-minute and he’d enjoyed it immensely- especially the private party afterwards with Tuck and Eleanor.

Tonight he’d been invited out by a few guys from his workplace, and he didn’t mind having a few drinks to unwind and relax. He liked most of these guys well enough to feel like he didn’t have to worry about getting a little bit tipsy in their company, so he was happy to have a laugh and enjoy himself.

It also meant that he was drunk enough not to notice that little tingle that came with the approach of other immortals, or the one of the guys he didn’t trust so much texting under the table and then buying the whole table a round of shots which Will was more than happy to accept. He didn’t notice Guy of Gisborne lingering around the doorway for a small time, then going to wait outside in the dark.

“Better call it a night, eh?” the less-than-trustworthy one said. “Work tomorrow after all. Where do you reckon you’ll be tomorrow, Will?”

“If it were up to me, in my bed all day,” Will laughed, stumbling a little as he got to his feet. “But I have the Wilson garden to do with Carlos over there.” The group headed out of the door, parting ways. Will hummed to himself and pulled out his phone to work out if he could (or should) walk back home or if he should call an Uber.

Someone was walking in step with him, beside and a little behind so he couldn’t see who it was without turning his head, and he finally recognised that shiver that said, Danger, Will Scarlet.

While someone was walking behind Will, Malcolm was actually ahead of him, cutting off any escape he might drunkenly attempt. And just when the hairs on Will’s neck started to stand on end, Malcolm turned, letting the little shit see his face, angles illuminated by the sickly yellow of the streetlights. “Scarlet,” he drawled quietly, his lips spreading into a snarl. “What a surprise.”

As much as Gisborne hated having to partner up with Malcolm, he had to admit, finding one of Hood’s men alone was always a treat. When they weren’t all surrounded by each other, taking them down was a lot easier to manage. This hothead would be easy to blame when he let his drunken brain take over and Gisborne would have every right to claim self defense while trying to get a disorderly drunk off the street. He wasn’t just going to hit him over the head yet, he needed to taunt him a bit.

“Looking quite drunk there, Scarlet. You’re not thinking of driving like that are you?” The bastard could have a bike to pedal and Gisborne would have taken him down.

Will stopped short and took a step back as the Sheriff appeared out of the darkness, then turned as Gisborne spoke, trying to step back from him too. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“I don’t own a car,” he said a little dumbly. Two of them, and him alone, and drunk. His heart rate was picking up, but he tried to keep his breathing steady and relaxed. It was difficult to assess the situation and keep an eye on both of them at the same time. Whenever he took a step, the two of them blocked his exits, and cars were rushing by too fast on the road to be able to run out that way and not get hit. One thing he couldn’t quite tell yet, but would have if he was sober, was that he was being quietly herded off the street. As Gisborne came closer behind, Will stepped away from him, and Malcolm gave way to allow him to haltingly stumble towards an alley that ran between two bars.

Stay calm. Try and think. He fumbled with his phone, trying to unobtrusively find someone to call, but he was too clumsy about it in his current state. “I get the feeling this’sn’t that much of a surprise,” he said, looking back and forth between them.

“Well not for us,” Malcolm agreed, closing in on Will as they edged him further into the alley. “Did you really think we were going to let you get away scot free?” Nothing angered Malcolm more than a plan foiled, and Will getting out of going back to prison was the current thorn in his side. “Ah ah ah, no phones allowed,” he said, noticing Will was fumbling for something. “Guy, take his phone.”

Oh shit. Will realised there was air at his side and darted away down the alley, hoping to toss his phone aside to find later. Who knew if he’d ever see it again if those two got their hands on it. He sent it skidding across the concrete to rest underneath a dumpster, probably scratching it to hell, but better that, then have Gisborne read his messages. Then he turned when he realised he was trapped, and held up his fists. He was weaving just a little, not completely steady, but enough to hold something of his own against the two men. He hoped. He’d had drunk fist fights before-- except his opponent wasn’t usually trying to kill him.

“You got something to say, come on and say it,” he said, eyes flicking between the two of them.

Gisborne had a feeling he was going to be crawling under that dumpster later to retrieve that phone if the Sheriff had anything to do with it. At least he didn’t have to do it here and look like a fool in front of the intended target. Guy still tried to hang onto some dignity, it didn’t do him well to look so defeated. Guy came around Will, not willing to have a punch in the face and have something to explain the next day at the precinct.

He tried to get out of Will’s line of vision and in his blind side so he could hook his arm around his neck. It took a few tries but when he finally got him, he pulled him into a chokehold. “Cool down, hot head,” Gisborne said as he pulled his arm tighter. Let that bastard drop his fists or try to take a swing now. “Don’t struggle and maybe you won’t get your face smashed into the wall,” he warned.

Will gritted his teeth and pulled at Gisborne’s arm. He’d judged the Sheriff as the bigger threat and had been trying to watch him more, foolishly letting Gisborne get around him. He swung an elbow to try to catch his enemy in the ribs and struggled hard, because no way was he going down without a fight. “Get off me, you slimy shit,” he spat, his throat hurting and head starting to throb at the tight hold. “Fight like a man instead of a dirty coward!”

With Guy holding Will, Malcolm stepped forward. “Hold him,” he instructed the other man, and then Malcolm slammed his fist right into Will’s belly. He hit him again and again, only stopping to flick his hair out of his eyes. “Keep him up,” Malcolm instructed Guy. “We’re going to make you regret squirreling out of my last trap.”

“Stop moving!” Gisborne barked, pulling Will’s arms tighter behind his back more forcefully. There was a pop, and a yowl from Will as Gisborne dislocated his shoulder. It would make the idiot listen and stand still. He’d have just handcuffed him but Malcolm seemed to want to channel all his aggression into using Will as a punching bag.

Will was seeing stars. After the first hit to his gut he'd stayed semi-hunched over, as much as he could be, trying to tense his muscles to prevent internal damage, but that did help the odd hit to the face. The hits had knocked the wind out of him though, and with the hold around his neck he wasn't able to get enough air back in. And then Gisborne had caught the arm he was trying to fight free with and twisted it back so damn hard- the sound of pain he made was a rasping yowl and his feet scrabbled on the concrete.

In a last ditch effort to free himself, Will shoved both heels into the ground to throw Gisborne off balance and loosen his chokehold, and get out of range of the Sheriff's fists for a moment. It worked just enough to get air in and clear his head enough to stomp at the soft parts of Gisborne's feet. His shoulder was in agony and his stomach screamed with pain but it couldn't be helped, he wasn't about to just let them kill him.

And just for good measure, he glared the Sheriff in the eye and spat in his face.

Malcolm calmly wiped the spit out of his face, but inside he was boiling. Oh, Will was going to suffer for that. As the Guy/Will duo sort of erupted into chaos, Malcolm watched with interest. Will hurting Guy was momentarily wonderful to watch, but they had a bigger purpose here.

He strode forward, twisting his fingers into Will’s hair and jerking his head to the side, roughly. “Let’s get him to the ground,” Malcolm said to Guy. “He’ll be easier to control from there. His journey down doesn’t have to be pleasant, by all means.” He had gotten his punches in, perhaps Guy would appreciate a few.

Guy stumbled when Will broke loose his hold. He stomped all over his feet and Gisborne growled and yelled at him to stop. When he had a chance he was going to kick him right in the shins. This bastard thought he could usurp him? No. Not happening.

Gisborne pulled on that arm where the shoulder was already dislocated, making sure Will could howl into the night. Guy took Will’s fingers and bent them back until he was back on the ground. He’d break every one of them if he could.

Will was spitting curses and prepared to fight all the way down, but Gisborne yanking on his already damaged arm made him almost white out with pain and he crumpled easily, falling to his knees and hitting the ground hard. His pulse was rushing in his ears. Gisborne’s knee was in his back, holding him down, and the Sheriff’s boots stopped right in front of his face. If he had to admit it, he was scared. He turned his head away from the Sheriff, trying to tuck his face into his shoulder to protect it, his good arm coming up to tuck over the back of his head. The other arm was going numb and was useless.

“Alright, let’s turn him over,” Malcolm hissed, kneeling to do just that. They flipped Will bodily, and then Malcolm grabbed Will’s head, twisting his fingers into Will’s hair so he could slam his head into the ground. Not hard enough to knock him out, of course, but hard enough to stun him. “Hold him still,” Malcolm instructed Guy, and then he pulled a pair of pliers from his pocket. “I’m going to get a souvenir for our Prince John. Open your mouth, Scarlet, or we’ll open it for you.”

Dazed though he was, Will still struggled. Why wasn’t anyone on the street seeing this? Why was he fighting this battle alone? He clamped his jaw as hard shut as he could, shaking his head, wide eyes flicking between Gisborne and the Sheriff, feet kicking against the concrete to try and buck Gisborne off him. But the Sheriff still had a tight hold of his hair and those pliers were coming in way too close.

Malcolm’s fingers curled in Will’s hair again and he wrenched Will’s head towards him, leaning in so he was close enough for Will to smell the acrid scent of coffee on his breath. “Listen here, you piece of shit. Open. Your goddamn. Mouth. Or I am going to breaking your fucking jaw, and you will be eating through a straw for six months. You won’t be able to speak. And then I will break both your wrists so someone else has to feed you your energy drinks.”

Will bared his teeth, still clenched together. “You’re the scum of the earth and nobody will ever love you,” he snarled in response. He couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth voluntarily. Succumbing to the enemy was just not in him. He stopped struggling and shaking his head though, and lay there staring at the Sheriff like a feral cat backed into a corner, his breath coming quickly in anticipation of the pain.

Malcolm wrenched Will’s mouth open, and he looked back to Guy. “He’s going to fight this once it starts. Hold him.” From his position over Will, he jammed the pliers in, going for a back tooth on the left side. He had done this before, of course, extracting teeth as a means of torturing for information. He wasn’t looking for any information now though, just to cause as much pain as possible. The pliers clamped down on Will’s tooth and Malcolm wrenched them to the side to try to loosen it from his jaw.

Oh god, it hurt. Will howled and kicked. Blood was starting to run into his mouth and lying on his back he was forced to swallow it, but he coughed and hacked, spraying a red mist over his tormentors. His head was throbbing and he could hardly think anymore.

Luckily for Malcolm, Will was being held down, so none of the kicks could catch him. The blood in Will’s mouth obscured his work, but he had enough practice to know what he was doing and execute his task. With another wrench to the side, and then a mighty pull, Will’s tooth was free and Malcolm extracted the pliers from Will’s mouth. “There we go, wasn’t so hard was it?” he said, pocketing the pliers and the tooth.

Will didn’t even look at him, his gaze sliding away, glassy and unfocused. He was still choking on his own blood, mouth wide for air as he tried to turn his head to the side and let the blood run out of his throat. His left arm pushed weakly at Gisborne to let him up.

Malcolm stood then, and he aimed a kick directly at Will’s gut. He was nowhere near done with this. Will had managed to wriggle out of his perfect plan and that made Malcolm angry. He kicked Will again, before leaning down and grabbing the other man by his collar, hefting him up off the ground a little. “I could kill you, you know. I could kill you right now. I killed your little friend no one remembers.”

Will was starting to lose his grip on what was going on. Being pulled a little upright was a small blessing because it meant the blood that was slowly drowning him spilled out to let him breathe again. “Much is worth a hundred of you,” he said, although the words themselves were slurred and mumbled. He gagged at the blood in his stomach and the repeated blows to his midsection.

“Kill me then. Kill me- and have- done.”

“I said I could kill you, not that I was going to,” Malcolm hissed. “Killing you now would be a mercy.” Quickly, he dropped one of Will’s shoulders and pulled his arm back. It gave him enough momentum so that the punch that connected with Will’s nose was enough to shatter the bone.

Guy had heard those same words before. Just because he had to battle with the Sheriff on his side, didn’t mean he did so willingly every time. Guy despised being treated the same, a rat that had escaped his own tail being cut off once or twice, but a tail that had been cut off at some point. The Sheriff had pulled a few fingers, broken a few bones among other things to keep Guy in line. So while he stood there holding Will down, doing as the rotten asshole wanted, he couldn’t help but see himself looking back at him.

Guy’s face soured and he looked away, grinding his knee deeper into holding him down. He wasn’t going to be on the other side of such an attack. Better it be one of these bastards than himself.

Will was done. Consciousness was for people who hadn’t just had their faces broken. His head flopped to the side as new blood burst from his nostrils, adding to the flow from his mouth. For a moment his eyes rolled back and he went limp, and then when he came back he vomited, blood and the booze he’d drunk earlier splashing over the Sheriff’s trouser leg. Everything was a haze of pain and blood.

“You- fuck,” he managed to groan, sagging in Malcolm’s grip.

“Fuck!” The sheriff hissed, dropping Will as vomit soaked his trouser leg. “Disgusting piece of shit!” He aimed another kick for Will’s belly. “We should go, Gisbourne. Leave him here. I’m leaving you alive, Scarlet. Because it hurts more.”

The last kick made him vomit again, and he rolled onto his side, curling into the fetal position. He wasn’t aware of if they stayed or left, just finally thankful that they had left him alone to die in peace.