Ba'ob: Voices

It was just Ba’ob and Abel in the house now. Jasper and Azriel’d stayed behind, to help the Sanctuary. Ba’ob’d wanted to stay with them, but… Too many people, running around everywhere. Azriel’d pet his hair and said to go on home, that he’d be along shortly. So. Ba’ob went.

Abel was quiet. And scary. He hadn’t hit Ba’ob, and Ba’ob didn’t believe he would. But every time he got to close, or made a sharp movement… Ba’ob found himself flinching. He *hated* it but it kept happening anyway. He knew Abel noticed. He could almost feel the tiefling’s look boring into him, sometimes. Sometimes Ba’ob’d hide from it.

No space to hide today. They were walking back to Skyport, after Abel helped at the Sanctuary and Ba’ob tried not to panic on the boats. Abel and the others had stopped the orcs. That was good. Ba’ob liked the Sanctuary. They’d fed him and tried to give him clothes and a bath, and let him hang out even though he’d been… an animal. They were good people. (About half of them had been elves.)

There was no talking on the way back. Ba’ob didn’t have the nerve to break the silence. Just gripped the wolf’s fur and kept plodding along. Resisted the urge to run, when they saw the house. Kept two paces back, let Abel lead the way, let him open the door. And then, once they were inside, Ba’ob took off for Azriel’s room.

Abel called something about dinner, Ba’ob wasn’t listening. He needed quiet. He needed to be *alone*. Climbed on the bed and hugged one of the pillows to his chest, counting breaths. Wolf jumped up and laid across him. Made breaths harder, but heart slower. Ba’ob wriggled an arm free and scratched her ears. Something was clawing in his chest. He didn’t know what but he had to get it *out*.

Eventually he wiggled out from under the wolf and started pacing, staring at the window. He needed out. He jerked forwards, grabbing for the windowsill. Jerked backwards, tucking his hand into his armpit. His arm *burned*— where it wasn’t there any more. He’d tried, before. Leaving. When he didn’t have the ring. Didn’t even have the cuff this time, but it still hurt. Still burned. He didn’t have permission. That was why he couldn’t leave, so he couldn’t run away. Didn’t matter though, he didn’t have the cuff, they couldn’t burn him for it any more. Still couldn’t bring himself to approach the window.

Ba’ob bared his teeth and growled— nobody was here, nobody’d *care* he was being an animal. What’d happen if he did go through? He could sneak back in. Or even come back through the front door. Abel wouldn’t care. And even if he did— not like Ba’ob wouldn’t deserve it. With thoughts of lightning crackling through his veins, Ba’ob lunged forwards and slammed the window open and dove out.

Fell off the roof too, while he was at it. Knocked the wind out of him and he stared up at the sky, dazed. Wolf was at the window, barking and whining. She’d alert Abel. So Ba’ob pushed himself up and staggered off. Chest hurt. Back hurt. Felt like he’d sprained an ankle. Still managed to get out of sight before the door opened. “Ba’ob?” Sounded concerned. Ba’ob hugged his knees to his chest, hoping he’d go back inside. Didn’t though. Ba’ob heard him coming closer, closer, and then he was there.

“Ba’ob,” Abel said, arching an eyebrow. “You all right?”

“Am— *I* am fine,” Ba’ob said.

“You’re bleeding.” Abel gestured and Ba’ob reached up, and then switched to the arm with a hand. His face was sticky and wet, and when he looked at his fingers they were red. “Let’s go inside and get that patched up.”

Ba’ob hunched in tighter. Didn’t want to go inside. “I would like to walk,” he said slowly, carefully. Looking at Abel out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t disobeying. He wasn’t saying no. Just… saying what he’d prefer.

Abel studied him for a second. Made Ba’ob feel like prey. “I’ll have the kit out when you get back.”

Felt like Ba’ob’d been punched in the gut. In a good way, almost? Abel went back inside, and Ba’ob watched. Lingered for a second, cause he wasn’t running away now, but the ugly thing in his chest wasn’t sated.

Ba’ob heaved up and wandered blindly. Flinched as he wandered by the butcher store where he’d hurt Azriel and hurried on. Ended up at the docks, where he’d met Hansel the first time. Didn’t know why. Settled on a barrel and watched the bustle. For a little bit. Didn’t take long for something sharp and cold to poke into his side, and a voice to hiss in his ear. “No sudden moves or my knife goes in your kidney.”

“Okay.” Huh. Ba’ob really wasn’t all that bothered by this. At the voice’s direction, he slipped off the barrel, and down an alley. Got shoved up against the wall with the knife at his throat, while the mugger started digging through his pockets.

“You’re a tiefling,” Ba’ob said.

“Yeah? Just remember who’s got the knife.” He was bigger than Ba’ob, an angry and desperate look in his eye. “Where’s the gold huh?” He shoved Ba’ob back against the wall. Hurt his head. “Think you’re being clever by hiding it?”

“Don’t have gold,” Ba’ob said. “Left it home.” Maybe he’d get stabbed for it. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. No more being on edge, jumping at shadows. Just… an end. Something about that set Ba'ob's stomach to twisting.

The tiefling cursed, and backhanded Ba’ob. “I think you’re fucking lying to me.”

Ba’ob shook his head, watching the knife. His grip was clenching on it. “You going to stab me now?” he asked.

“Shell out the gold and I won’t,” the tiefling said. Pressed the knife just under Ba’ob’s eye. Leaned in close enough Ba’ob could smell his rotten breath. “I can take a few bits off, till you get the message,” he said. “How’d you like your eyes to match your hands?”

Ba’ob squirmed, not that it did any good. He didn’t want to lose any more parts. Azriel’d be sad too, if he came back and Ba’ob was missing an eye. “You’re not allowed to do that,” he said. “Don’t belong to you.”

“Yeah well, who’s gonna fucking stop me?”

Azriel wasn’t here to. Or the wolf, or Jasper, or Abel, or Hansel, or any of the others Ba’ob’d met. Ba’ob felt the knife biting into his skin, and figured that was enough. Reached for the magic pulsing in his chest, concentrated on something small, something fast and—

The mugger cursed and jumped back as suddenly the elf was a squirrel. Ba’ob didn’t wait to see what else would happen, scurrying up to the roofs and darting back towards home. It seemed farther, but Ba’ob did have shorter legs now. In some ways it was soothing. No one gave him a second look as he scampered along. But yet everything was louder, more dangerous when he was small like this.

Ba’ob got home and put thoughts about squirrelness against elfness aside, climbing through the still-open window and down the stairs, till he found Abel. He was reading down in the fireplace room. Ba’ob slept there, usually. Wolf was with him, staring at the door with her ears pricked. He’d worried her. Still squirrel, Ba’ob ran over and hopped up on the arm of Abel’s chair. Didn’t know why. Abel wouldn’t recognize him like this.

Abel glanced up and set his book down. Looked a little puzzled. “Go on back outside. Shoo,” he said, nudging Ba’ob slightly.

Well. He better drop it then. Ba’ob released the hold on this form— felt himself turn elf again— only standing on the arm of the chair was a lot easier as a squirrel. Ba’ob flailed his arms around and fell off, yelping as he hit the floor. Abel shot up, cursing, and the wolf piled onto Ba’ob, enthusiastically licking his face.

“Ba’ob!” Abel looked ruffled. Didn’t look that way much.

“I was a squirrel,” Ba’ob said from where he was still pinned under the wolf.

“I saw. Come on now, sit up and I’ll bandage your head.” Between the shapeshifting and the fall, Ba’ob felt like he’d opened up the cut again. Sounded like a good idea. He growled and snapped at the wolf till she got off, and he sat up and tilted his face up for Abel.

He was finishing up when Ba’ob found himself talking. “How— how do you know. Who won’t… hurt you?”

“I don’t,” Abel said calmly.

Ba’ob swallowed a whine. “That’s… scary.”

“I’m used to it.” Abel sat back, looking over the bandaging. “You should be fine, as long as you don’t go jumping out any more windows.”

Ba’ob flinched a little, but Abel didn’t sound angry. He was just… saying. “Thank— thank you,” Ba’ob said belatedly.

“You’re welcome.” Abel almost smiled, and went back to his book. Ba’ob sat for a second. That ugly gnawing in his chest, it wasn’t gone. Now that Ba’ob thought about it… it’d always been there. Far as he could remember. Sometimes louder, sometimes quieter. Sometimes, buried under so much fear and pain that it— and everything else— suffocated. But never died.

“I think I hate myself,” Ba’ob said slowly, seeing how it felt. That seething rage, wanting to see people *hurt*, but directed at himself. It— made sense.

The pages of Abel’s book rustled as he set it aside, peering at Ba’ob. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said mildly.

Ba’ob nodded a little, picking at the rug while he tried to think it through, more. “I’m… afraid. All the time.” He hugged his knees to his chest. “I don’t— want to be hurt. But I’m a slave and… I can’t stop it.”

The chair creaked as Able sat forward, carefully resting his hand on Ba’ob’s shoulder. Ba’ob couldn’t suppress a flinch, but didn’t pull away. “You know we don’t want to see you hurt.”

Ba’ob gave a jerky nod. “I… know. Protect— *you* protect me.”

“Yes. And you protect yourself.” Ba’ob ducked his head, hunching his shoulders. Wasn’t *supposed* to. “Ba’ob, listen to me,” Abel said firmly. Ba’ob looked up out of the corner of his eye. “You’re allowed to protect yourself.”

“I don’t know when is… protecting and when is… fighting.” Ba’ob rubbed at his arm again. “S’why I need watched.” Thought about furry tail, swishing behind him as he ran home. Could have just as easily been teeth, tearing into the tiefling’s throat. “I’m a wild animal. Need taming.”

“You are *not* an animal, Ba’ob,” Abel said firmly. Ba’ob started to protest— he’d just *been*, Abel’d *seen*, but Abel kept talking. “You act differently than most people, but if they don’t like it, that’s their own fault. No one has any right to hurt you for it.” He let go, leaning back in his chair. “And besides,” he said. “Fighting isn’t really all that bad.”

Ba’ob grabbed for the wolf, hugging her tight. She licked his head, his face. Always there for him. He turned his head, resting it on her and looking at Abel. “Don’t believe that,” he said quietly. “…Wish I did.”

Abel… looked like Ba’ob felt. “You will,” he said. “In time.”

Ba’ob studied him a moment. Voices from his past were loud. Orcs, laughing, jeering, kicking him around and feeding him the same scraps as the dogs. Master Miller, cracking his cane across Ba’ob’s back. J*ust because you’re a filthy animal doesn’t mean you have to act like it*. Master Sokolov. *You think you can defy me? Just remember who’s got the power you fucking piece of shit.* Bala, soft and gentle. *You’re a wild animal, you need taming.* Even Bry. *We’re slaves Ba’ob, we don’t get to think! It’ll be easier if you just give up.* And… Azriel. *Mask, Ba’ob, why must you be such a beast?*

Jasper though, finding a gift he'd left in her bedroll. *Look at you, such a good hunter. You’re really good at that*. Abel, just now. *You know we don’t want to see you hurt*. Azriel, cupping his face. *Ba’ob, you are the bane of my existence, and I love you so much.* Ombre, even after he’d been mean to her friend. *I want you to stay here, you little weirdo, I miss you.* Hansel, after Ba’ob’d snarled at him. *Hey, you're all right. I growl at folks sometimes too, eh?*

They didn’t drown out the others. Yet. “I think… I might believe that,” Ba’ob said slowly. “In time.”