Between Walls of Steel

[Dust]

As he watched his superior being beaten to a pulp with the rest of the Avengers and a few specifically pulled aside prisoner’s, there was something flickering in the eyes of the contractor’s eyes that has never crossed his mind before. This was not the lightening dancing around the stun batons that int turn convulsed throughout his body, but the raging fires of defiance in a young man’s heart. He felt angry at them for laying their fingers on anyone, and with some calculated thought it was great they were using him and Moon Knight as the poster boys for this, because he didn’t think he could sit by with a straight gritting face had they pulled Angel out instead.

“Come on Champ, get to yer feet.” One of them sneered through their helmets before forcing Dust to his feet. Almost immediately they regretted it as the large prime’s shadow washes over them. There was a growl on the tip of his tongue as well, but the trooper has to swallow his fear and shove the wolf-man along. “Go on, ya heard the man.”

Bowing his head so that the locks of maroon fall around him like a curtain of defeat, Dust slowly makes the way as he was direct with a rough push, kick, or prodding of the electro-lance. He hissed at the most painful jabs but kept his pained cries in.

He’d been the top dog in the fight for most of it. Dawn’s mark on his cheek has finally faded and left space for the next few marks made. Between inmates and guards, he was covered in dark deep purple and yellow bruises, red marks where natural weapons like teeth and nails had been used, and fresh marks of brutal force scattered across his skin like changing leaves in the fall.

In front of them, they dragged the white-jacket hero, Moon Knight. While it wasn’t a straight jacket that bound him, it would be fitting for the insane and half-conscious man. He’d been bluntly used as a punching back. Dust wasn’t sure, but he was almost sure they’d fractured or even cracked his ribs or jaw, maybe both.

Marc had gone limp in their arms, either their abuse has tired him out for the evening, or he’d thought it was best to just roll over for now while they regrouped and replanned. Dust was not sure which one but did not plan to assume anything about him.

As they were taken through the cells, as if on parade for the other’s, there was a mixed reaction. Most of the steps the large prime took could be heard slapping the bare floor because it was so quiet. Glares or grins greeted his curious eyes. Some even yelled from above, calling him and Moon Knight several choice words in a snarky accent; These were all shorter than the inmates probably wanted as the guards posted on the levels would silence them with their own jabs of a baton or shocked by some other means. These caused some to cry out, which made Dust wince back as he is reminded of the pain he’d experienced.

“Move along!” The trooper demanded and hit him along the shoulders with his own shock baton, making even the mighty Dust stumble momentarily before he stepped back into place.

-

They arrived out in the middle of nearly nowhere. Several small little buildings were lined up in two rows. They looked no bigger than those Johnny-On-The-Spots you see at the fairgrounds, tucked away from the rides and food so no one smells it while trying to enjoy themselves. They also were made of dark metal instead of the memorable bright blue plastic at the amusement parks.

These were at the end of the prison’s property, where whatever artificial sun would burn down on the boxes and make the unfortunate uncomfortably hot. It was nearing the end of this day, but Dust was fully aware of what his experience was going to be like in one of these. His soul sunk a little lower in his body.

They ripped open two random doors, one of which was fully empty and ready for one of them. The other one had been occupied. The body that fell out of the box was not only stiff from igor mortis but covered in wrinkles from loss of hydration. The body had mangled dirty black hair, full dried out beard, elongated finger nails, and a permanent face of agony frozen on his withering face. The troopers accompanying them on this journey laughed at the body and then while two of them dragged it out the others looked his way.

“Since yer comrade is out, we’ll let you pick which one you want.” His commanding guard jested, then nodded towards the boxes.

With his overwhelming power, the contractor prime had been cursed with enhanced senses. None stronger than his sense of smell. He’s always had it, but only now was he able to complain freely. The stench of death clouded the one on the left, but he didn’t like the smell of the other one where he thought he even saw a pile of the last occupant’s feces in the corner tucked away. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes before shaking his head.

His trooper laughed at him before shoving him forward.

Wolf was pushed in and the door was closed before he could even open his eyes and turn around. The last sight he’d seen was the body being pulled away. Closed off from the sun the room instantly went black. Then it hit him, the scent of stale shit, piss soaked wood, and the suffocating smell of a dirty old man who died several weeks back. Hokori’s head spun faster than a top, his body began to rock, and he fell against the wall outer wall. Only for it to burn his shoulder so badly it sobered him up just enough to pull away and land on the much cooler back wall. Though that one was still hot too.

Beside him, he heard a large weight hit the floor and the guards cheer and laugh at their misery before closing Moon Knight away like they did him.

A moment later there was silence.

After that time became so difficult to understand. Dust felt like fainting and was sure he’d already done so. He felt like he had to be dreaming, but contractor’s rarely dream. Dreams were creative and weird, not really a luxury that other contractors like himself had the pleasure of experiencing. He couldn’t recall any since coming to the Omniverse.

After a long time of just in silence and foul scent of decay, he heard one voice. Clear as if he were in the same room, Moon Knight muttered: “Sorry, Dust…”

It was another long time swimming in nothing before Hokori could think of a response himself. He had found a spot in one corner where he felt most comfortable. Which was saying a lot for the cramped up man. His height has always been a conversation starter, but only now that he was in this tiny box did he feel the bad side of being so big. “Don’t.”

The silence between responses weren’t measured by time, but by distance.

“I failed you all,” Marc said. Somewhere between defeat and regret.

“Just because a plan fails does not mean the person has.” Dust’s response was slow but responded faster than before. Like his mind was reciting something instead of answering.

It felt like thousands of kilometers before his leader responded. “..Thanks.”

-

“Trying to escape was a terrible idea…” Eventually, the conversation began again, it felt like worlds apart at this point.

“Yes.” Dust finally said. “It was.”

Moon Knight chuckled as if he’d been expecting sympathy instead of a blunt response. This made Dust smile.

“Survival is the most basic thought we have. When mixed with fear and desperation it becomes a bad idea but with the best intentions behind it.” Dust added.

Marc felt himself smiling. “I lost my head there a bit, I should have thought this whole thing through a bit.”

Dust’s smile faded. “Trust me, working on just 100% logic is no way to live either.” He raised his head until it sat against the corner too. He could breathe a little better, but he could still smell the corpse. “There’s no anger or pride in your life, there’s no emotional attachment to people, there’s no joy to it.”

The silence measured a few meters before a response was heard from the other side. “I tried to have those things in my life but anytime I set things right there was always something to put them into harms way." Marc gave a low sigh at being reminded of Marlene. "Did you know I died once? Not here in the Omniverse but on Earth."

Dust’s silence wasn’t as expansive as Spector realized quickly that he was expected to continue. He wanted to continue, Volk wanted him to continue!

There was shifting in the boxes. "I once was what most people consider to be a scoundrel a real-life bad guy. I was a mercenary taking over small countries in Africa or South America just for profit. Heh, life tends to be cruel I died in Egypt shortly after saving what would be the love of my life. That wasn't the end, my less then warm body laid under the statue of Khonshu it spoke to me and offered a second chance. A second chance to gain vengeance and to redeem myself. From there I guess you could say Marc Spector became the Moon Knight.” He said, getting lost in the dark and comparing it to a tomb.

The younger Prime trained his eyes on a shape in the dark, not sure if it was his mind or real. He was comparing a lot of his past to Moon Knight. Contractors might not have been widely known to the public, especially since they were primarily used by the government for secret missions. But those who did know…

“Khonshu… That’s one of the gods or the moon.” He said, loud enough to confirm he’d been listening. He knew a lot about the lore that revolved around the moon. The Russians had done extensive research and inhumane tests on him and his power. They tried to force him to change without kissing him, but the consequences had nearly been the death of him. They shot him with a bullet and a silver bullet, compared the damage and then left them inside for several days. Which they had a hell of a time digging out due to his actual healing factor.

“Yes. Khonshu gives me life and in return, I do as he says and enact brutal justice to those who would do harm to travelers of the night. Which comes to a more ironic situation. In my early days of being Moon Knight, I got hired by a group called the Committee to hunt down a werewolf. Gladly I caught on to what they were going to do to the poor kid or New York would have had werewolf being used as a hit man."

With his words came forth a flip book worth of memories that were re-lived. So many that Dust wasn’t sure how long the space between the white-clad hero’s words and his. Dread had settled into his stomach, turning what meal he’d been scarfing down before the riot sour. “Is that why you look at me the way you do?” He thought he’d whispered it.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean?”

Hokori spaced some silence between them. “Back in my world, I was a heartless killer myself. Only now I can regret it. I can look back on the faces and feel pity, remorse, and even guilt. Back then I couldn’t feel anything. Not even fear. I just worked on survival and logic.”

His head floated forward until his chin touched his chest. He felt his hair caress his cheeks and curtain his shame.

“I was so young when they came for me, I didn’t even know what was going on. They picked me out of the snow like a flower, then they began to pluck my petals away… It feels like I should be able to blame them, but it also feels like that would just be making excuses for the monster that I was.” Dust's words were weighted heavily with the past.

"Old habits don't die fast,” Marc said without pause, then realized he was in a similar situation. “And I should apologize for expecting the worst when in reality they've been a good help."

Moon Knight’s words make Dust smile gently and lift his head up again and smile over his shoulder. There was a wall between them literally and metaphorically, but he felt the metaphorical ones melt away and a connection form. He smiled gently and then closed his eyes to lean his head on the wall. “Like you said, habits don’t break overnight.” He teased.

Khonshu’s Warrior let out a soft laugh. It’s been a bit since that sensational reaction came out of simple pleasure like good friends. "I guess we have something in common, though the choices I made were my own." He took a moment to gather his thoughts and shift to shift in the corner a bit. "They were wrong choices but here we are now hunting down the bad guys doing the world a favor day by day."

It was SW-808’s turn to laugh. “Well, we would be if we weren’t among them.”

They both had a good laugh over that, starting with a few chuckles matched by the other before turning to loud barks of humor which escaped from their boxes without them. It did wonders for the smell.