Part two of Berkeley's Revenge AU.
contents: recapture, defiant whumpee, tied to a chair, death threats, past fingore/amputation, traumatic haircut, shock collar.
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Berkeley winces, picking up Wren’s severed finger through a tissue, which instantly turns crimson, soaked with blood.
“It could still be attached back,” he sing-songs, smiling at Wren before tossing the tissue into a bin. “Whoops, nevermind.”
Wren barely hears him, his wide unseeing eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breathing ragged, his forehead lined with cold sweat. His finger is gone, it’s been cut off, and its absence, once it finally registers, feels so weird and so wrong. He flinches and gasps when Berkeley grabs his left hand and starts playing with his fingers, smiling to himself.
“I guess when I feel like hearing you scream again, I can just take my pick.” He lets go, circles the table, and gets to cleaning and dressing the wound on Wren’s right hand, chuckling a bit at his instinctual attempt to wrench his hand free. “Try not to get an infection and die, but it should be fine. You'll live. You’re so tough, after all.” He glances at Wren’s face, listening to his frantic breathing. “Why so quiet, Rackham? No more jokes? Figures,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “We both know how pathetic you really are.”