"You disappoint me, Gavin..." A shudder of fear ran through him as he sat at the table, slowly chewing a piece of steak. That he was still being fed surprised him. That he was still wearing clothes and sitting in his room, even more so. They'd tried to make him do it three times so far, and each time he'd refused. He'd come close this time. Closer than he'd like to admit. The memory of the gun in his hand still plagued him, the weight and feel of the grip. He'd aimed it at one of the men. Another piece of shit murderer. Where the Hickory Killer was finding these guys, he had no idea, but so far six pieces of trash had been brought in, and none of them had walked out.

He'd come so close to pulling the trigger this time, gun shaking in his hand, heart racing, green eyes darting between the man in the chair and the quivering barrel. In the end, he'd dropped his arm, unable to pull the trigger. It just wasn't his way. He was a detective, a man of the law. He believed in justice, and vigilante killing wasn't justice. How the Hickory Killer intended to turn him into a ruthless serial killer, he couldn't fathom. He wasn't even sure the Hickory Killer knew as he sat calmly across from him, dressed the same as always. With the mask on his face, he was unreadable, and the voice changer added to that eerie calm.

"Why do you resist? I know you have it in you, Gavin...I've seen it." That's a lie! He'd never wanted to kill anyone. "Don't lie to yourself, Gavin. Do you not recall how relentlessly you pursued me? How you fired and tried to kill my android, thinking it was me?" Gavin swallowed, feeling the meat slide down his throat in a dry lump. The steak wasn't badly cooked, but it was hard to eat with the Hickory Killer sitting so close. It was even harder to hear the truth of those words. He couldn't deny it. He had tried to shoot him. The memory of disappointment still lingered as he vividly recalled the rooftop where he'd tried to shoot Jack, thinking it was him. It was a heat of the moment thing! He was trying to get away! I never would have shot him if I'd had him on his knees!

The Hickory Killer chuckled softly, almost as if he could hear the thoughts racing through his head. Gavin dropped his gaze, unsure if he even believed it himself. This was the person who'd killed his partner and tormented him for the past...How long has it been? Was it three years or four? Could they be on five already? How long had he been here? He couldn't even say anymore. It felt like ten years, though he was pretty sure that couldn't be the case. He was still a little feeble from being starved, but he didn't feel that old yet. Green eyes widened as soft leather touched his chin and raised his head. Within the mask, he could see those pale blue eyes staring at him, calculating.

"Perhaps making the choice is too hard right now. I understand...You need an incentive. A way to justify your actions until you're ready. We'll start small, like weaning a babe from the teat." Gavin felt sick at the analogy, dread swelling in the pit of his stomach as he wondered what the hell that sicko was planning. Prickles ran across his skin as that leather clad hand stroked his cheek, thumb lingering almost affectionately. The worst part was that he leaned into it. Since being kept confined, alone and starved of warmth, he was desperate for any affection he could get. Even now, weeks after his release, he pined for it. "See to his needs until I return." Though he was looking at him, Gavin knew he was speaking to Jack.

"Of course." What else would he say? The Hickory Killer didn't say another word before leaving. Gavin heaved a sigh of relief the moment the door closed, cautiously cutting into the remainder of his dinner. It was a little cold since he'd been eating so slowly, but it still tasted good. He hummed softly, closing his eyes as Jack stroked through his hair and rested a hand on his shoulder. It was comforting and familiar, giving him the physical contact he so craved. "You did so well today...I could tell you were trying your best." Trying my best to what? He didn't even know anymore. Had he been trying to hold back or pull the trigger?

"Yeah..." He wasn't sure what else to say, and a non-committal answer seemed best. He pushed the remaining food around his plate, still trying to choose. He couldn't go back there. The details were blurry. Although he recalled the exact feel of the grip in his hand, and the weight of the gun, his feelings were a blur. There was fear and dread, sure, but what was his intent? Was the shaking of his hand caused by his morality? Was he forcing himself to hold back to stay on the right side of the law, or was he trying to make himself pull the trigger against his better judgement? He fisted his hand at the thought, unsure which was better.

If he was deliberately holding back, that meant part of him actually wanted to see these people dead. He hated the fact that a tiny part of him did want that. The men who'd been brought before him so far were amongst the worst humanity had to offer. Paedophiles, serial killers, murderers. There was nothing redeemable about them. It was easy to want to see them dead. Maybe there was even something normal about it. What if he was trying to force himself, though? That could be a lot worse. If the only thing holding him back was his morality, what would happen when it finally broke? What would happen when he could finally justify pulling the trigger and being the monster the Hickory Killer wanted him to be? Was there anything that would make him do that?

I've done it before...He remembered how he'd felt after murdering Chloe. The rage burning in his chest as he'd chased Jack through the parking lot, thinking he was the Hickory Killer. I would have killed him that day...There wasn't a shred of doubt in his mind. Could he be right? Do I have it in me? The more often it came up, the more he started leaning that way. The Hickory Killer had never been wrong. He'd guessed his every move since the day he'd laid eyes on him. The fucker knew how to make him bend and break. Why would this be any different?

"Hey, breathe, Gav..." A grounding hand landed on his shoulder, moving lower to rub circles on his back. It wasn't the touch he wanted. It wasn't the touch he needed. The ghost of a hand settled over the back of his neck, the memory of what used to be. He leaned over the table and took steady breaths, closing his eyes and imagining those cool silvery eyes and a deep voice rumbling in his ear. He missed it, but didn't dare think about it. Life was harder when he thought about those times, when he thought about- "That's it, that's better..." Green eyes opened to meet gentle blue, but it wasn't the same. Jack's smile was almost sympathetic as he ruffled his hair.

Gavin pushed himself to finish the food on his plate. He couldn't afford to leave it, never quite trusting that his next meal would come. Jack stayed with him, straightening the room and running a bath. Hot water was good for relaxing tense muscles, and Gavin was pretty much the definition of tense. It didn't take much to coax him into the bathroom, though he was reluctant to let him remove his clothes. Jack paused as Gavin's arms tensed at his sides to stop him from raising his top. He pressed closer, resting his hands on his hips and leaning in to nuzzle his neck.

"It's alright, Gav...We're just going to take a bath. You're not going back to that room. You've been good." Though reluctant, Gavin did allow him to pry him out of his clothes after that. Jack took his time, LED spinning blue as his eyes roved over his toned body. He didn't hesitate to run his hands over his hips and sides, stepping in closer to hush and hold him. Gavin shuddered, leaning in greedily, wrapping his arms around Jack's shoulders and burying his face in his neck. He wore the same cologne he always had, though now it was tainted with thirium. "Shall I come in with you? Would you like that?"

"Yeah." It seemed like the only answer he could give as Jack's hands roved up and down his scarred spine. Gentle lips lingered on his shoulder before Jack stepped away to remove his own clothes. Gavin pushed down the sick feeling in his stomach, the wrongness that told him it wasn't right. His body was the same, but slightly firmer. Familiar, but somehow flawless. Jack smiled as he returned and walked him to the tub, gently encouraging him to climb in and lean back against the curved edge. Ever thoughtful, Jack took the side with the taps and remained on his knees.

"Give me your hand." Gavin did as he was told and raised one arm, watching numbly as Jack took his hand and picked up the shower scrunchie. It was thick with bubbles, ready to soap and clean his skin. Jack scrubbed up and down his arm with robotic precision, pressing just hard enough to be pleasant. He changed arms, working up to his shoulder before moving to lean over him. "Sit up a little." Gavin obeyed, coming nose to nose with him as the scrunchie circled and soaped his pecs. He couldn't help returning the gentle kisses that touched his lips as Jack worked, moving to kiss his abs as he leaned over his shoulder to scrub his back and shoulders.

Despite the chaste intimacy, Jack remained focused and somewhat detached as he worked. He encouraged him to his knees so he could soap his ass and thighs without lingering too long on his sensitive crotch. He then lifted his legs one by one, massaging his feet and calves as he scrubbed to his knees. Jack let him wash his own hair, ever watchful as he ducked beneath the surface to rinse off. Once they were done, he wrapped him in a towel and rubbed him dry, telling him how much better he felt. He's right, I do feel better.

"You should rest until he comes back." Jack was probably right. Whatever the Hickory Killer was planning, it would sap his energy right away. He pulled on some pants before shuffling beneath the covers, not wanting to be caught off guard. Jack settled on the bed beside him, still wrapped in a towel, staring down at him and stroking his hair. "You're getting there, Gav. You came so close today." The words were supposed to be comforting, but they cut him like a knife. He had come close. Too close... "Don't worry. I'm here for you." A familiar conflict filled his stomach. A swell of adoration and disgust. He hummed softly as gentle lips claimed his own, pressing softly.

Words stuck in his throat. I don't want this! I don't want to do this! What would the price be if he said those words out loud? He shuddered to think. Luckily, that shudder was mistaken for something else entirely as Jack rolled to cover his body. The kiss deepened, becoming a messy battle of tongues and searching fingers. Gavin held his breath, holding in the tears that wanted to fall. I'm not a murderer! I don't want to-A gasp fled his lips as Jack grabbed his ass. He could do this. This was easier. This kept him from thinking about that room, those men, the gun in his hand, and how close he'd come.

"You're such a good boy." Gavin whined at the praise, pulling Jack closer as he bit his neck. If he held onto Jack, lost himself in this moment, maybe everything would be alright.