Spliced: Part 4 - Chapter 13B

[flighty_dreams]

TITLE: Spliced 4.13B
AUTHOR: flighty_dreams
WARNINGS: NC-17. slavefic. scifi setting. M/m.
WORD COUNT:  4,442 (for this half of 4.13)
SUMMARY:  In a world where clones are made and sold as commodities, Matt Muldane can't resist purchasing an intriguing slave.
NOTES:  The index to this story available here. Thanks to aurila and tuawahine !
FEEDBACK: Always welcome, even if it's just to say that you read it.

“So how is this going to work?”

From his desk, Matt looked over at Min, who was leaning against the bedroom door. “You swore to be honest.”

“Yeah, so I won’t lie. That doesn’t mean I can answer anything you ask. I have my family to protect. You can’t ask for say, my brother’s address, and expect an answer.”

“That isn’t what we agreed to.” But Matt wasn’t surprised. He’d never truly expected full disclosure from Min.

“We agreed I wouldn’t lie. Whether I could refuse to answer a question or not wasn’t covered.”

Of course. Matt was somehow both annoyed and amused. He’d known Min would find some way to wriggle out of this—he was too paranoid to do otherwise. Yesterday he would’ve let his anger override his reason, but today he’d faced the facts. Expecting Min to tell him everything at once was unrealistic.

Crossing his arms, Min sighed. “Matt, if it’s just about me, I’ll answer.”

Matt frowned. Those were easy enough conditions for Min to sidestep quite a bit. Any answers were progress in getting the clone to trust him though, and he had six months to find out all he wanted about Min. Unfortunately, patience was not one of his strengths.

“You’ll still get answers, Matt, just not all of the ones you want.” From his tone, the clone thought this was a great concession on his part.

“And I’m telling you that’s not what we agreed on,” Matt said, more for the sake of argument than anything else. He couldn’t let Min think he’d just go along with whatever he wanted.

Min rubbed his eyes. “Trust has to be earned, Matt.”

“It damn well does.” The words slipped out harsher than Matt had intended. He scowled, struggling to repress his natural impatience. Some answers were better than none. “Why is everything always so complicated with you?”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

The response came out tired rather than snide, and Matt found himself studying Min. He didn’t have to give the Andorian any allowances. He was still adjusting to the idea of compromising with a clone he legally owned. Instead of fighting for every concession he received, he should’ve been obeyed. But so far compromising was certainly achieving better results than giving Min orders.

Apparently feeling he’d gotten Matt’s agreement—or the closest thing he was going to get to it—Min walked over to the small table. Grabbing one of the chairs, he pulled it closer to the desk and straddled it, facing Matt with his arms flat across the square back. Matt had never seen him sit like that, but he had to admit it was so… Alex. The other name slipped in unconsciously, because while he could never imagine the old Min doing that, it fit perfectly with the new version’s attitude. His next traitorous thought, that the cocky attitude was sexy at times—especially when it involved Min spreading his legs like that—was entirely unwelcome.

He shoved the idea away as if it burned him. It was time to get started. “How old are you?”

There was only a slight hesitation. “Twenty-eight.”

That fit with Kimbel’s assessment, but it was nice to have an exact number.

“Out there,” Matt gestured vaguely, “what did you do for a living?” Part of him still found it a ludicrous idea in regards to a slave, but he knew it applied here.

Min straightened, his tension ratcheting up. Seeing him pinned down by his own promises was an entertaining sight. He recovered though, flashing a grin. “I’m in the shipping business too, actually.”

That was some coincidence. “Doing what?”

“Nothing fancy. I work with cargo.”

It was still too vague, but Matt thought about how well-traveled Min seemed. “Transporting it?”

“Yes.”

Matt continued asking him more questions regarding his work. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Min’s profession to be, but it hadn’t been this. For all Min’s intelligence, he’d have thought Min would do something that required more brain power than hauling cargo. But he was a fugitive, and had to keep a low profile. Matt supposed staying on the move helped prevent exposure as a runaway slave. But in other ways it was risky.

“So you go through secpoints often?” Every spaceport had one.

“I have it down to a fine art,” Min said with a crooked smile.

“Arrogance. You could’ve gotten your ass caught,” Matt retorted, concern sharpening his tone. Depending on where he was discovered, the results would be varying degrees of disastrous.

“I won’t let fear rule my life.”

“You should’ve been more cautious,” Matt replied, feeling like he was giving a lecture.

“I know. I am cautious. I know what precautions to take and what to avoid. I don’t go too far.”

“Like shooting and abducting someone in broad daylight? Very cautious.”

At least Min had the grace to blush. “An aberration, not the usual. I plead insanity brought on by contact with a certain Kartan businessman.”

Matt rolled his eyes, ignoring the teasing. “What about the people you work with? Do they know what you are?”

 “Some of them do.”

Reaching the limits of what Min would reveal about his work soon after that, Matt dropped the subject in favor of one he found personally important.

“Were you involved with anyone?”

The lengthy pause that followed did nothing for Matt’s nerves. Eyes downcast, Min finally admitted, “I’m involved with someone now.”

Matt gritted his teeth, feeling something violent inside him struggling to emerge.

“He’s clean cut and attractive,” Min continued, gesturing with his hand, “about this tall, with brown hair, and currently sending me a death glare.”

Matt’s tension loosened, no longer at a breaking point. Warmed by the gentle teasing, his mouth curved as he met Min’s blue gaze. But the belated awareness that Min hadn’t answered his question, had distracted him instead, soured his mood again.

“Who did you have sex with while you were gone?”

Min put his head in his hands. “Muldane, let it go.”

Apparently Min didn’t know him as well as he thought. “No.”

“That question involves someone else.”

Matt didn’t let him off the hook. “Who was he to you?”

“A friend.”

“Could you be any less vague?” Matt snapped.

“And a co-worker.”

Matt pictured some burly cargo man pushing Min against a warehouse wall and fucking him. Or shoving Min to his knees to suck him off. The sudden urge to throw something—or preferably sucker punch the trespasser—assaulted him.

“Flame fucking all, and I thought that was a death glare before.” Min leaned back in his chair, watching him as if he were a lion escaped from its cage. “Calm down, Matt.”

Not in this lifetime. “You never told me how many times you fucked.”

Min rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if warding off a headache. “Ah yes, information that is bound to comfort you. Why do you stress yourself out like this?”

“I need to know.”

“Too bad. I’m not telling you,” Min said, his expression mulish.

“Why the fuck are you being so fucking stubborn?”

The clone blinked, startled by his vehemence. “Because it’s enough to know it happened. No good will come out of getting all the details. This whole subject is hurtful to you.”

“I’m fucking pissed, I am not…” Matt trailed off, unable to finish the denial. He did feel hurt that Min had uncaringly left him and gone off and fucked someone else, as if Matt had never meant anything to him—or he hadn’t had any obligation to his master.

Min was watching him, probably seeing more than Matt wanted him to. “It’s over anyway. We’ve gone our separate ways.”

Finally some good news. Matt was relieved to hear that much. He struggled to rein back his anger, disturbed by how easily Min could always make him lose his temper.

A heavy silence followed, broken when Min asked, “So what else?”

“No, we aren’t done with this topic,” Matt told him, his mouth firming.

“Yes, we are,” Min countered just as decisively. “I’m protecting you from yourself.”

The concern in his eyes threw Matt off balance. He would’ve thought Min would avoid the subject out of fear of incurring his ire, but he was more anxious than fearful.

“Fine,” Matt agreed reluctantly, deciding he would get the details eventually. “But we aren’t done with this.”

Arms spread across the back of the chair, Min laid his head down on them. Matt studied him absently, taking in the tousled dark hair and the well-formed limbs as he considered other questions. After the last topic, he’d rather deal with a minor thing next.

There was something that had bothered him for a while now. “When you were first here, you used to curse in Pyrunian.”

“Revk na’des.” A slight smile from Min.

“Yes.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Now it’s Tyrran curses. What’s with that?”

Min’s gaze turned distant. “When I escaped, I needed to speak differently. Not just accent, but attitude, gestures. I figured a neutral accent for speaking Common would work best, not pinpointing to people where I was from, but I still needed something to swear with. I chose Tyrran.”

“So the Pyrunian was from before?” Matt asked, feeling on the cusp of another answer. “You’re from Pyrun originally?”

Min made a face. “Yes. Born and raised there.”

Matt asked a few more questions about his life on Pyrun and the lab there, but the clone didn’t add much more to Matt’s previous knowledge, presumably because he wasn’t the only one involved. Between what Min had already told him and the visit to Kimbel though, he already had a fair idea of what had gone on in that lab. And after the incident at dinner that first night, he was wary of pushing too hard on this subject.

Hollis did say to be careful with him. But there are some important things he’s not telling me.

“What happened with Kimbel?”

Min’s shoulders slumped. “Matt…”

“Tell me.”

“I wouldn’t demand a play by play of your doctor visits.”

“Because you know better, despite your general lack of manners.” Matt crossed his arms. “You are mine, my responsibility. I need to know about any issues you have.”

Min stood, glaring down at him. “I’m not anyone’s responsibility! I can take care of myself.”

“From that FS scan,” Matt drawled, “it’s clear you’ve done a great job of that so far.”

“I was a kid! I’m not helpless anymore.” With a disgusted growl, Min turned away, pacing across the room. Matt let him take a minute to calm himself. Finally the clone faced him again and said, “It’s a private matter.”

Frustrated, Matt studied his face, searching for insincerity. There was none. He remained torn, wanting to push but sensing Min wasn’t going to budge on this issue.

That’s the second thing he’s brought me to a standstill on. He wouldn’t be a pleasant adversary to face in a negotiation room.

“You need to offer a little trust,” Matt told him, changing his strategy.

Min’s smile was sad. “Someone has to, or we’ll never get anywhere.”

After a long pause, Min sat back down in the chair he’d vacated earlier. Raking his fingers through his short hair, he said, “I’ll tell you about something else you’re interested in. My other reason for coming back.”

An earthquake couldn’t have diverted Matt’s attention from Min then.

No words followed the pronouncement, the silence stretching between them like a bridge to nowhere, and Matt crossed his arms. The urge to prod Min was potent, a force increasing as the seconds passed, but he resisted with stringent self-control.

The clone sighed, and the soft sound seemed to crackle in the air around them. “You have such a grim look. I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am,” Matt admitted, voice cotton soft, “but you’re stalling.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Min gathered himself, then said wryly, “I might be in trouble, and not from just you.”

It took a second for the words to register, and another for Matt to note that his suspicions had been correct. Then came the wave of anger and concern. “From who?” he demanded.

“Remember those calls you got from Vendenza?” Min sketched out the details, revealing that there was no one named Kurtis Hayeston working for them. Matt’s worry increased at learning that someone unknown was very interested in Min. But another thought managed to override that.

“How did you know he called me? Were you spying on me?” Matt asked, outraged. The little voice that whispered, at least it proves Min is obsessed too, was determinedly ignored.

“No, I wasn’t,” the clone said with a shake of his head. “Remember that second call from Vendenza?”

“Yeah,” Matt said slowly.

The Andorian’s arctic eyes brightened as he grinned. “That was my brother.”

“What?!” Matt recalled the man’s older features, and his offensive demeanor.  The attitude and use of a disguise certainly fit a relative of Min. “Ashen hell, was deception wired into both your genes?”

The clone grimaced. “Our childhood didn’t encourage honesty.”

Matt’s mind flashed back to Kimbel’s confirmation that an appallingly large number of Min’s injuries had occurred during childhood. It left him feeling sickened again.

“You mentioned to him that Vendenza had already called you,” Min went on, “and he got curious, so he looked Hayeston up. Or tried to.” He continued, telling Matt the conclusions they’d come to.

They knew worryingly little, and Min’s solution didn’t make Matt happy. “How is using yourself as bait a good idea?”

Unbelievably, Min looked amused. “You aren’t the only one with that opinion.”

“And yet you weren’t swayed,” Matt replied, tone dry.

Propping his chin on one hand, Min cocked his head. “You would rather I hadn’t come back?”

The sudden ferocity with which his heart cried out against that dizzied Matt. He sent Min a scathing glare, not dignifying that stupid question with a response.

And then something else he hadn’t considered made him go cold, the heat of his anger drowned by a wave of numbness. “So if not for this Hayeston, you wouldn’t have returned?”

Min bit his lip thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I think so, eventually, but I’m not sure.”

The one time I would’ve preferred a tactful lie, of course I don’t get one, Matt noted distantly. “So the other reasons you gave were lies?”

“No,” Min denied, his eyes incredibly earnest for such a skilled liar. “It’s not that simple. I’ll admit that Hayeston tipped the scales, but he doesn’t invalidate my other reasons. I do want to try again.”

Still too stunned to process everything, Matt merely said, “I see.”

Startled, the clone sent him a considering look before his gaze drifted to the desk, a sad smile on his face.

A strange feeling pierced the numbness as Matt realized that he was the one who had caused this unhappiness. “What?”

“I’m not used to you not arguing with me.”

Blood rushed to Matt’s face. It was time for a subject change. “Hayeston. So your plan was to come back here and what? Just sit around until he shows up?”

Min’s eyes darkened. “Well, I have ideas for ways to pass the time.”

Matt had some suggestions of his own, but the knowledge that someone was out there hunting his Min was sinking in, and there was no way he’d be distracted from that. Outrage swept the last of the numb feeling away. The Andorian would be taken from him over his dead body; he’d be prepared for anything this time. Needing to move around, he rose from the chair. Matt’s mind raced, pondering what measures to take, how he could better protect Min from this threat.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop.”

The sharp words made him turn. “What?”

“Don’t sabotage this. This is why I was hesitant to tell you in the first place.”

Eyes narrowing, Matt focused on Min’s disapproving expression. “What do you mean?”

Still straddling the chair, Min straightened, gesturing as he spoke. “The advantage we have right now is that he doesn’t know we’re on to him. If you suddenly increase the security at your home and office, or whatever else you’re thinking, it’s a blatant sign that you’re suspicious or paranoid. It will encourage him to wait, and to be more careful in his approach. We want him to do less thinking, not more.”

“If we make ourselves harder to access than the Treasury, he won’t be able to reach you,” Matt pointed out.

The Andorian’s condescending look made Matt bristle. “Even if that were possible, if you make the house impregnable, then you just change the location where he makes his move. Better to let him underestimate us and move too recklessly.”

“I don’t care if he waits,” Matt snapped, “I don’t want to encourage him.”

Min bowed his head against the chair’s back, tucking it against his arms. “Matt,” he said softly, “short of finding him first, which I already tried, there’s no way to guarantee that he never appears.”

That gave Matt pause. “What would you have done if you found him?” Min couldn’t have handled this on his own.

That mask returned to the Andorian’s face, giving away nothing. “Depends on how big a threat he turned out to be.” Something about his tone was odd. “But we’d have dealt with it.”

We? Oh, he meant his family. Sudden disappointment made Matt say, “Well, we’ll deal with it now.”

The clone sent him a wry look. “I knew you’d insist on being involved.”

“Because I am involved. I’ll handle it.”

Min sobered. “I brought this problem to your door. I’m sorry for that, but you have to let me take point on this.”

Follow the Andorian’s lead? The idea was laughable. Min was more than any other clone he’d ever met but he was still-

“Muldane,” Min said, the name rolling off his tongue, “this is my area of expertise, not yours.”

“And what would that be exactly?” Matt asked, voice hardening.

“Intrigue.” A rueful grin. “Shady people.”

That last one Matt could believe. “I won’t take orders from you.”

“You know things that I don’t,” Min said, his eyes flashing angrily, “is it really so ridiculous that I have areas of expertise too? I was raised into intrigue.”

“So was I.” Kartan corporations stabbed each other in the back every day.

“Oh.” Min paused, for once at a loss for words. “I guess you were.”

“But I failed at it, while you obviously excelled,” Matt replied, letting his bitterness shine through.

“Matt, I wasn’t allowed to fail.” He caught the way Min’s hands curled.

It wasn’t the same—he couldn’t imagine the punishments Min had suffered for failure—and yet he still found himself confessing, “Neither was I.”

There was no mockery in Min’s gaze, only interest.

“I was disowned,” he said, resentment still lacing his tone, even after all these years.

Shock twisted Min’s features, as well as anger. “For being too honest?!”

“Well, not just that,” Matt amended. “I refused to spend my life in a sham marriage, lying to both myself and my wife.”

“Ah yes, I remember.” Min looked at him with sympathy, but then his mouth firmed as he reached up to touch the collar at his neck. “And yet you’d have me lie.”

“I-” There were so many things he could say, remarks about how Min was still a slave, or how lies were something Min must be used to, but he found himself tongue tied. It wasn’t just about Min’s social position, it was about the personality he was forced to conceal in public. Matt knew what it was like to conceal your true self, and he’d vowed never to endure it again.

The clone shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Never mind. I already spent six months here lying, what are some more? There is Hayeston to consider.”

Of course, can’t forget that. Matt would never know how much of Min’s return was based on actual feelings.

“Matt.” The soft tone drew his attention. “I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Matt shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It was a long time ago.”

“Not long enough.”

Flushing, Matt couldn’t deny that. Thankfully, Min sensed he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. They let the silence hang, until Matt asked, “Why were you so hesitant to tell me?”

Min bit his lip, unwilling to answer, and Matt remembered his earlier comment. “You said something about me sabotaging this.”

The clone rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have a good track record for thinking rationally when I’m involved.”

That was Min’s attempt to be tactful? “Your diplomacy sucks.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Matt snapped.

Min groaned, hiding his face against his arms again. “I’m not saying you’re incompetent, just hot-headed.”

“Two traits which often go hand in hand. Once again, you’re a fountain of tact.”

Min sighed. “I give up. There’s no way to avoid blowing dust from my mouth.”

Pissed that the Andorian thought he’d be a bungling idiot about this, Matt glared at him in silence. Determined to prove him wrong, Matt considered the situation carefully. “Once we have something substantial, we should get the authorities involved.”

“What? No.”

“Why not?” They’d certainly be better equipped to handle this.

Min’s eyes blazed. “Because we don’t know how much Hayeston knows. If he were arrested, we don’t know what he’d tell the police.”

“There are records showing I bought and paid for you. They can’t legally take you away from me. Whatever he says won’t matter.”

Min rose abruptly from the chair, causing it to rock for a moment. He paced away from Matt before spinning on his heels. “It will matter if he convinces them I’m dangerous.”

“What, a ferocious Andorian? Please. They’ll never believe it.”

“What about a troublemaker? Or defective? I’m not willing to bet my life on them not being convinced of any of that.”

That statement, reminding him what was at stake, hit Matt like a blast of cold water. No, the thought of risking Min like that was unacceptable. If Hayeston made the police suspicious enough to do a thorough investigation of Min’s background, the holes in it would raise far too many questions.

“Fine, no cops. But how the hell do you expect to stop Hayeston without them?” When Min just gave him an uncomfortable look and started pacing again, Matt decided to spell out the obvious to the stubborn idiot. “You were trained as a spy. You ferreted out information and passed it along to your handlers. Along the way you also learned some self-defense, but I don’t see how these skills are going to help you with this.”

Min stopped near the window, looking out of it with his back to him. Matt wasn’t sure where the gut feeling came from, but it was too powerful to ignore. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The clone remained silent, so Matt approached him, trying to coax an answer out of him. “You promised to be more honest with me.”

Min’s fingers tightened on the windowsill, and a lengthy silence followed. His voice when it finally came was soft, but it carried in the quiet room. “We weren’t just trained as spies. We also were trained to kill when ordered to.”

“That’s impossible.” The automatic denial slipped out as Matt stared at him in shock.

No matter how harsh the training, you couldn’t change docile Andorians into killers. For practical reasons, violence had been bred out of all clones, but Andorians in particular were known for their passivity. And yet, as he thought of his encounter with Min on Festun, it was clear that Min had a vicious streak. Not for the first time, he wondered how that was possible. But he’d never believed Min would go so far as murdering someone. The killer instinct had to be trained into soldiers with constant repetition, until firing a gun became mindless habit. Had Min’s trainers employed a similar technique? It still seemed likely to fail with Andorians, but Min never had been a normal Andorian.

Unless they’d used that docile nature to train them to obey any order, no matter how counter to their other instincts. The instinct to obey pitted against their passivity. A horrid thought, but possible.

The Andorian’s tone was bitter. “I wish it were impossible.”

Matt thought of all the childhood injuries. He grabbed Min’s arm, turning him to face him. “How did they make Andorians into killers?”

His face blank, Min stared at him for a long time. “Knowing that, it doesn’t make you nervous?”

Perhaps it was arrogance, but he didn’t fear that Min would kill him. His rebellious Andorian had problems with restraint in other areas, but he wasn’t rabid. “No.”

“I’ve killed people,” Min said, guilt flashing in the blue eyes.

The confirmation that he’d actually committed the act, not just trained for it, did disturb Matt. But it didn’t make him want Min any less—instead he found himself creating excuses for it. Min had had no choice; he’d been following orders, and he was so brainwashed from the training that he didn’t know right from wrong.

No, that part was incorrect. Some of Min’s words on Festun came back to him:

They wanted us to hurt people that had done nothing to us. I couldn’t do it, so I ran.

Remorse had driven him to escape. No, Matt didn’t fear him—he’d taken drastic action to put a stop to these crimes.

But he was appalled that Min’s masters had trained slaves to kill free citizens. What the fuck had they been thinking? No wonder Min had trouble showing proper respect. He’d been taught it was okay to kill people when ordered to. It was a mind fuck he’d probably never recover from.

Min had half-turned away from him, his fingers clutching the edge of the windowsill again. Something in the hunched set of his shoulders aroused Matt’s protectiveness. Stepping closer, Matt hugged him, one arm curving around his waist. The Andorian’s hands settled tentatively on Matt’s hips, an unusual lack of certainty about him. Knuckles caressing his troubled face, Matt shifted his hand up to slide his fingers through Min’s hair. Their gazes met, and Matt watched with relief as distress gradually became surprise.

His voice soft, Matt said, “It’s not your fault. It’s the people that twisted your purpose who are really to blame, not you.”

Min’s face filled with regret once more. “I wish it were that simple.”

Chapter 14

Comments

[myscus.livejournal.com]

Oh, Min want to give you a hug.
Glad Matt finally got some answers, if not all the answers. I understand why Min doesn't trust him completely yet I just hope they will get to the point where he can, because I love them both.

[flighty-dreams.livejournal.com]

He won't turn down hugs! ;-) Yeah, it's definitely understandable why he can't really trust him yet. Thanks for reading!