We Are Bulletproof

Good--ah. Mik was joking. Rip sighed. He wished Mik didn't have such a death wish. That he wasn't so staunchly loyal to somebody like him. Rip frowned even as Mik smiled. Different orders? His gaze dropped to where Mik slid his hand over his heart, too. His heart told him he needed to be with him.

At first, Rip resisted the pull to lay down with Mik but after a moment, he sighed and let himself be tugged insistently over, to lay down beside Mik. What else could he do? He couldn't force Mik to do anything. And Rip was told to stay in this room, so... There was nothing left to do but wait.

Huh...? His free hand rose up to his chest. Was that where it was? He thought it was one and the same, the heart and soul. It beat a little funny--his heart--not quite like a human's heart. But he was sure that the soul resided there. That was where he hurt when Brayden... He lowered his head, his fingers curling inward.

How did Pax know? He tilted his head, curious and questioning what it meant. What it meant for Pax to know. What it meant for him to say it aloud to a stranger like Mik. What it meant for Rip, if it was a bad thing or a good thing. The fact that Mik didn't like Pax's tone when he spoke of it scared Rip. Was he going to do something about it? Stop it where it had just started?

"I don't either," Rip said softly, looking off into the distance. Looking at the doorway without really even seeing it. He didn't understand Pax--and by proxy--the king's intentions. Why they had to do with him.

"You don't have to stay here," Rip told Mik. "You're not a golem. You can disobey orders."

Rip half smiled.

"That's how golems usually are."

He lowered his gaze to look at their linked hands, then down at his other hand, still tucked primly away between his knees. What happened to him being special? Pax had strange plans that he didn't appear to be sharing with the team. Not that there was much of a team left. For a time, they were like an odd, dysfunctional little family. Rhys was supposed to be their leader but Keith really took the role and ran with it. And Raphael was like a brother, of sorts. Equally shrugged off, equally used as a tool, although in a different way.

And then... Raphael disappeared. And then Rhys disappeared. And then Keith was sent home. And Pax came in. And the only old person left in the whole group was... him. There was also Rhys' sister but she didn't live with them and she had a different group she worked with. And most of them were dead now, from what Rhys said.

"Huh?" He had lost himself in his thoughts as Mik talked about being rescued--were they even in need of rescuing?--when Mik brought up his soul. "What do you mean?" It grew...? From what? Hurting Brayden Smith? And he didn't like how Mik said that Pax was rude about it. He froze in fear. "Does he want it to stop? Growing?"

But... but wasn't that what made him so special? Was Pax regretting telling him that now? Had he changed his mind? No... He was a golem. He didn't change his mind... but maybe the king had.

"He could have used me for that," he said, still frowning. Not that he wanted to be used in that way but... Maybe he wasn't doing enough. Pax must think he could do a better job. But Pax was too much of a golem. They would know right away that he wasn't Mik, especially if he showed up after Rip ran off with Mik. Everybody knew that Rip was affiliated with the enemy.

"It won't work."

But what else would a golem like Pax want with a human's face? Who could he possibly be trying to fool? Anybody he tried to get close to with Mik's face was going to be suspicious. Mik had way too much personality. And Pax... did not.

Rip didn't know how he felt about Pax yet but he was definitely wary of him so his mouth remained a frown and his eyes remained concerned as he watched Mik flopping over onto the bed. It was nothing like Brayden Smith's nice, soft bed. It was nothing like the guest room bed, either, at Mik's aunt's house. And it was nothing like Mik's bed, either. Rip slowly sat back down on the edge of it, hands between his knees, ankles crossed.

"R-rape?" Rip turned to look over at Mik sharply, then felt Mik's hand reaching out for him, over his thigh. Slowly, he removed one of his hands from between his knees and slid it underneath Mik's questing hand. It seemed to help, at least.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know what 'imprint' is..." He frowned. But it sounded bad, if Pax was making a mask of Mik's face. It did sound a lot like a magic mask to assume another person's identity.

"What would he want to do with your identity, though...?" he asked, confused. "I don't understand."

"Jack..." Keith breathed. It was the very first real memory that Rip had that was his and not Jack's. When he opened his eyes and Keith looked him over as Rip stood there, naked and obedient and ready to do anything for his creator. "You look exactly like him."

And Rip stared at him, inordinately proud of something he had nothing to do with. Did he? Did he look exactly like him? If Keith was pleased, then Rip was pleased. But then a dark cloud crossed Keith's face and he grabbed hold of his chin as he moved in close, stepping into his personal space.

"Don't fucking look at me like that."

Rip still didn't know what he'd done wrong but Keith had some kind of strange love/hate relationship with him. Sometimes, he was so, so pleased with him. And sometimes, he was irrationally irritated with him for reasons he never voiced for Rip. One thing was for sure; he had never been enough for him. Keith wanted something he would never, ever have. Rip almost felt sorry for him now that he realized that. Almost.

But he couldn't bring himself to really feel it, not when he remembered coming back into his body with a dead Brayden staring into nothing with glassy, lifeless eyes.

Closing his eyes, he took in a sharp, painful breath.

When he heard his name, he thought for a sickening second that it was Keith but to his relief, it was Mik. Rushing over to his side, he wrapped his arms around Mik before he ended up slipping to the floor. Alarmed at Mik's apparent weakness, he helped him to the bed.

"Are you okay? What did he do to you?!"

Although Pax said he wouldn't hurt him, Rip didn't know if he could trust that. A golem's version of not hurting somebody could mean something different than what Rip had come to know as pain. What if he did something horrible and irreversible to Mik? Rip was fine with being deactivated--he wasn't so fine with Mik getting hurt or losing a part of himself because of him. But he'd tried. He tried to leave Mik behind and damn it... curse his long legs.

Rip shook his head. He didn't believe Mik. What did he mean, he could take care of himself? If he could take care of himself, he wouldn't have walked into this willingly! Blindly, really, since neither of them knew what Pax wanted with the so-called "human."

Why couldn't he just tell him what he was doing? Why did he have to send him away? And the direct order was really starting to crawl under his skin. He backed up, his legs moving without his permission towards his room. Which was not his room. It was Keith's room. He didn't want to go there. But his feet carried him there as he listened to Pax saying something about an imprint.

Rip did not know what that meant. He didn't like it though. He didn't like any of this.

Entering the room he shared with Keith, he could feel different emotions flickering inside of him. Familiar bed. Familiar clothes. Some were his, some were Keith's. He could still smell Keith in the room. Not unpleasant but it hurt his heart and made him want to recoil at the same time. After what Keith made him do, he could never see him the same way.

Swallowing hard, he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed but that only lasted for a few seconds before he was back on his feet, pacing around the room, touching the dresser, looking at the mirror mounted on it and then quickly looking away. His eyes were so red-rimmed, even under all that gaudy gold makeup he'd applied for his meeting with Brayden. He didn't want to be reminded of that.

He turned away from the dresser and ran his hand over the headboard of the bed, looking out the window on the other wall. It faced out to another building in the vicinity. Not a pretty view at all.

"No..."

He tugged on Mik's hand but Mik was already stepping into the old, familiar apartment. It looked lonely and sad now, without the people who once occupied it. Presently, it seemed to literally just be Pax. But Keith could be anywhere and the idea sent ice down Rip's spine and terror in his stomach.

Mik seemed ready to face whatever they were walking into head on but Rip was far more reluctant, clutching onto Mik and wanting to pull him back out. But no. They were here and Pax was looking at Mik like he didn't expect to see him here. Well! He wouldn't be here, if it weren't for Mik's stubbornness!

The direct order hurt as he stood there, trying to deny it. The same as when he blurted out no earlier--trying to defy a direct order from his master made things... difficult. The closer he had come to the apartment with Mik, the less and less the pressure inside felt until now. And now it was mounting again because Rip didn't immediately go to his room, as he was ordered to.

"What are you going to do with him?" he asked, through clenched teeth.

Rip sighed. There was no way short of knocking Mik out to keep him from following him. And he thought about it. He seriously thought about it. But by now, they were already here and even if he knocked him out right now, Mik would still be here. And worst of all, he would be unable to defend himself in any way, should the need arise.

As if making up Rip's mind for him, Mik pressed the button for the elevator. Rip stared at the numbers on the top, watching as the elevator made its way down to them. He used his free hand to curl around his own chest and grasped onto the gaudy coat he had put back on when he'd rushed into the bathroom to get dressed and leave.

Meanwhile, Mik was still in nothing but a tiny robe. Rip might have thought it was funny--if he wasn't buzzing inside like a bunch of bees threatening to escape.

When the doors slid open noisily, Rip stepped inside, feeling a lot like a prisoner meeting his end. He wished that Mik would let go of his hand but he was so, so stubborn. Once they were inside, Rip pushed the button for his floor, on automatic. He wished that the elevator would stall--sometimes it sounded like it was about to--but not today. It stopped with a ding and opened up onto the familiar floor he'd been living on for the past... he didn't know how long anymore. Months.

Walking down that hall felt like a death sentence. Not for him, but for Mik.

"He told me to bring you," he said quietly, barely an octave above a whisper. He shook his head. "You shouldn't have come..."

And there it was. The door loomed before him, the same one that Cori had escaped through, the same one Rip had stared at from the other side while he sat on the couch with Raphael and wondered when Keith was coming back. His eyes narrowed. Keith.

It didn't surprise him at all that when he reached for the door, it wasn't locked. He opened it but didn't enter. He let the door creak open while he stood in front of Mik, hand still tight in his, heart in his throat.

Rip sped up, making sure that the others didn't follow them and cutting around a series of buildings so that they would lose them even if they continued trying to catch up to them. Why were they even coming after them, anyway? Didn't they have more important things to worry about? Like Brayden?! Rip should be the least on their minds at this moment.

Once he was sure that he'd lost them, he went around the block to Greenwood, coming upon it from the back. He found his hand was still holding Mik's and when he looked down and realized that, he swallowed hard.

"You shouldn't have come with me," he said ruefully. The Greenwood apartments were rundown and nothing at all like the pretty Sunrise apartments. There was no gate. The paint peeled on the building and when they entered the lobby, it had a distinct musty smell that old buildings that hadn't been properly cared for at some point always seemed to have.

He stood at the old elevator and looked Mik over. "You still have time..."

Rip tried to move away and get down the street but Mik stubbornly held onto him. And somewhere, he could see that others were mobilizing from the other apartment. The last thing he needed was everybody following him! And he couldn't seem to do anything about Mik's tight hold on him.

"Fine!" he cried, hating it, every moment of it. "Then let's go! They're going to follow us!"

And make things so, so, so much worse. Fear still gripped his heart and he didn't know what he was supposed to do with Mik. Maybe find a way to ditch him before he got back to Greenwood, where Pax undoubtedly waited for him.

"NO!" Rip screamed as Mik caught up to him. He was briefly stopped by the damned gate. But he finally opened it and once he passed through it, he tried desperately to close it behind him. But Mik was on him now and it was impossible to close it without closing it on him bodily and probably causing harm.

"Let me go!" he cried. "I have to go! If I don't..."

He didn't know. He didn't know what would happen. But he had a feeling if Pax knew he wasn't afraid of deactivation, he would use Mik against him. Hurt him.

"Stay away, you're only going to get hurt."

"What?" he said to Mik, realizing that his utterance of the word no had been mistaken by Mik for something else. What? No! He heard it; how did Mik hear it? But there was nobody there, nobody speaking aloud. It was in his mind, like it usually was, creator to golem. Or in this case, new owner and golem.

And he didn't seem pleased at all with Rip's no. What did he do? Pax said now like he was running out of patience with him. Would he deactivate him if he didn't do as he was told? Hah... joke was on him; Rip was no longer scared of that threat. Once, it terrified him because he had so much he wanted to do and see and experience. Now he was just... tired and sad and sick.

"No!" he said again. Why? Why did Pax want him to bring Mik? And Mik was over by the bed now, looking at Rip defensively. Since Mik was looking a lot like he was about to lie down on the bed, Rip decided to make his break for it, heading out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him--but there was no way to lock it from this side so he didn't have much time. He ran for the front door and shut it, too, running straight for the front gate once he was outside.

Rip looked back at Mik and his grim expression. His probably mirrored Mik's. Why? Why would he want to follow him? He furrowed his brow and he frowned at Mik, all set to argue when a voice stopped him. It felt like his heart stopped, too. But it was just Pax. Not Keith. Still, he was still the devil he didn't know.

But his eyes widened when Mik responded as if he had heard the voice, too. Rip stumbled back a step from Mik, as if putting physical distance would somehow change things. The shock and surprise became fear; why would Pax want him to bring Mik?

"No," he said aloud to Pax as if that would somehow banish him from his mind. Nervously, he looked around, wondering if it hadn't been in his head at all, that somehow Pax had entered the apartment. How... how did he break through the wards, though? The magic the three brothers used on him... rendered utterly useless because of his... golemness, probably.

Honestly, he couldn't tell if that was the right way to live or not. Living just for somebody else, it was so selfless. And he wasn't sure if he was really that selfless at heart. Because he knew a big part of wanting to be deactivated was an escape, even if it would benefit others and keep them safe at the same time. And he really wanted to escape.

And so he didn't answer because how could he answer that? How could he say he did the best for anybody when he didn't and he wasn't?

Idly, he patted Mik on the back a few times but he didn't feel like anything was fixed. But maybe if he pretended they were, Mik would stop trying so hard. Rip didn't understand why he kept trying so hard. Because... he loved him. Because... that meant trying to fix things that couldn't be fixed.