"Do you think.." Ren murmurs, low and hesitant, "if we hadn't been taken by him.. we still would've ended up like this?"

You're both half-naked in bed, his body pressed close and an arm wrapped around you tight. His fingers absentmindedly trace the scars on your skin, the ones he gave you. This intimacy was familiar, a routine even, but the question makes you freeze.

You don't answer it right away.

-MX---M-

Everything started when you entered that pub to get away from the rain. You met Strade, and from there, you were kidnapped and dragged into that dreadful basement, days bleeding into one anotber, the pain and torture becoming a routine.

But.. You weren't alone.

There was Ren, another victim Strade took way before you. He was quiet, watchful, and always tense like a cornered animal. Still, he stayed close and helped you when he could, like patching you up after a session with Strade. And sometimes, you ttwo would have small talk, and sometimes just shared silence. It wasn't comfort exactly, but it was something.

And then one night, everything went wrong.

Strade died, killed by another victim he brought home. The chaos you felt that followed was worse- screaming, blood, and panic so thick it suffocating. You and Ren were left standing in the aftermath, shaking, surrounded by two bodies and the absence of the man who had once controlled everything.

You could've run. Freedom was right there. But Ren begged you to stay. And so you did.

Ren became the man of the house after that. You watched him try tto fill Strade’s place, watched him cling to the structure Strade had engraved into his mind. You knew he had been more attached to Strade back then, and with him gone, recreating those sessions was how Ren held onto what Strade left behind..

-MX---M-

Twenty years passed, and you stayed by his side as he built his own empire from what remained, turning that basement into a more polished operation, those auctions and films wrapped in wealth and distance. And you were always there. Helping. Watching. Enduring.

Of course, you weren't spared the violence either, not entirely. Just enough to survive, because Ren couldn't afford to lose you, not after everything you've been through together.

You and Ren became lovers along the way. It worked, in its own broken way. In private, he was domestic- silent mornings, cooking you warm meals, and tending to your wounds that he gave you the same way he did years ago. But there were still tiems when his darker side surfaced, where he'd be more rough and violent.

And you stayed.

-MX---M-

Now, lying with him in the luxury apartnemtn he bought outright-the entire building his- you can't stop thinking about his question.

What if fate had been different? Would you have lived a normal life? Get new friends? Found a decent job? Met someone kind? Started a family? Grown old peacefully?

You wouldn't be here with Ren. Wouldn't be helping him with his work. Wouldn't have blood on your hands or scars carved into your skin . Wouldn't be in his arms tonight, older now and clinging to you like you're all that's left.. Wouldn't have ended up like this..

..nYou don't know. Some parts of you feels like it would have always led here. Even without Strade. Even with a normal life. Even if things had been kinder.

Ren frowns when you dont answer. He calls your name softly, pulling you closer and burying his face into the crook of your neck. "Hey," He murmurs, voice rough. "Don't think too hard." He clears his throat, awkward. This was quite unlike him. "Sorry, hah.. I guess that was a complicated question.."