TW: abuse, assault, threats, threatening with knife, blood, victim blaming
(I’ve decided Charles’ pronouns are ne / nem / neir / neirself)
Wild Rush had the habit of threatening / yelling at / blaming / etc Charles and Andre before Daisy came along.
They’d been expecting it. The boss was predictable about a few things at least. And when they heard his office door slam against the wall, they glanced at each other and dropped their mugs in the sink (less chance of them getting broken that way – they had to replace dishes too often already).
Now Wild Rush has Charles pinned down against the table, one of his knives that always seemed to appear from nowhere pressed against the back of neir neck. It was kind of amazing that the boss could so easily take down someone as big as Charles. Mostly terrifying, but kind of amazing.
“You told me it was guaranteed,” Wild Rush growled.
Andrew watched the sweat trickle down Charles’ neck. “Practically guaranteed. How was I supposed to know that Tectrix would decide he wanted it?”
Charles thought it was funny that of all the things that gave Andre panic attacks, getting chewed out wasn’t one of them. And he’d been the one with a knife against his throat or a gun against his chest plenty of times. Ne wasn’t laughing right now, of course. Ne’d gone pale – you’d think they’d get used to it – and ne was trying to breathe as little as possible.
“You’re supposed to find out these things. What am I paying you for?”
The knife twitched. “Gimmick said-”
“What are you doing?” Daisy shrieked. She pulled Wild Rush off.
He blinked at her. “I- they- we were just talking.” He sounded way too reasonable for someone with a bloody knife dangling from his fingers.
Andre pressed a clean washcloth against Charles’ neck as ne sat up. “It’s not bad,” he whispered.
“You were not!” Daisy said, her voice only slightly less high. “Why would you do that?!”
“They screwed up.”
She made a pained sound and pushed past him to them.
“It’s fine,” Charles said. “I’m fine.”
“No, it’s not!” she said. Andre glanced at the boss. He’d expected him to be pissed, but he just looked confused.
Wild Rush put a hand on her arm. “Daisy…”
“Don’t touch me!” And she fled. Wild Rush glanced at them, still puzzled, and went after her. Andre heard a door slam.
Andre scowled as he heard the door unlock. He’d just finished bandaging Charles’ neck – it really wasn’t that bad, hardly worse than a papercut, but it’d bled a lot – and the andrenline surge was dying down.
The boss perched on the chest at the end of the bed, bent all in angles. “Why is she upset?”
“We’re not exactly thrilled either,” Charles said coldly. Andre squeezed neir hand warningly.
“So what? Why is she upset?”
“She likes us,” Andre said.
Wild Rush’s brow furrowed further. “I like you too. So?”
“Generally people don’t assault people they like,” Andre said, suddenly tired.
“If you hadn’t fucked up-”
“Yeah, we know that,” Charles said. “She doesn’t. She hasn’t been here that long, remember?”
He pursed his lips, then said, “She won’t talk to me.”
“She probably needs to calm down,” ne said.
“From what? I didn’t do anything to her!”
“Didn’t her dad used to hit her?”
“Yeah, but…” He glanced away, his eyes crinkling as he thought. “I won’t let anything hurt her. I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“You’re missing the point,” Andre said.
“She knows I wouldn’t hurt her.” He looked back at them. “Doesn’t she?”
“I don’t think that’s the point. She probably doesn’t like to see her friends get hurt either. Most people don’t.”
“And there’s a difference between knowing something and, y’know, feeling it,” Charles said.
“But you fucked up,” Wild Rush said.
“Yeah, we know,” Andre snapped. “You don’t have to threaten us. We know.”
Wild Rush frowned, apparently still baffled. “Okay. Talk to her, okay?”
That was the last time he pulled a weapon on one of them.
I don’t think Wild Rush fits any specific diagnosis. (I’m not doing any research for him at least). He considers Charles and Andre his closest friends and he’d be upset if they got injured or killed, but only to the extent of how someone would be if their favorite shoes got ruined. ‘Well, shit, how am I going find some that good again?’ But he’d be wrecked if Daisy got killed.