Inked [1x1]

Otto didn't hesitate, didn't even think, "Fine," he muttered. "Just get the fuck out of here. And stay away from her."
 
Eric smiled, serenely, and stood from his chair offering Otto his hand. When the inker wouldn't shake it he just shrugged. "I'll be seeing you around, Otto." He headed for the door and then paused, "Oh." From his jacket pocket he pulled out an envelope, "In case you think about changing your mind." He tossed the envelope on the table and exited the consultation room and the shop, whistling merrily.
 
Otto scowled at Eric, daring himself to meet his eye. He looked away pretty much soon after, staring down at the table. His eyes followed the table as it slid across the table, landing right in front of him. He eyed it carefully, dreading whatever was inside it. He waited at least a minute before he opened it, very slowly breaking the seal and slipping the contents out onto the table.
 
The envelope contained pictures, proof of what Otto had been doing after hours from the last couple of weeks. As he flipped through the pictures, though, the quality changed from Kodak prints to polaroids.

Of Laila.

Young, high school Laila. Bruised, crying, and... completely indecent.

Proof of her blank status.

Proof of the story she had told Otto.
 
The first pictures weren't that much of a surprise. Eric had said that he'd been 'watching' him, or something like that. As soon as he saw that first picture, he was livid. He couldn't bring himself to go through the rest of them. He shoved all the pictures into envelope, shoving it into his back pocket and not caring as it crumpled. As he stomped out of the consultation room, fists clenched, a thought floated to his mind, a daisy popping up through rotten earth. Burn the photos. Get a tin can, stick them in, light them up. He doubted it would be the only proof Eric had of Otto's illegal activities, but that was not at all the point.
 
When Otto showed up to Laila's apartment that night for their scheduled date night, there was a police cruiser with the lights on outside her building. There were a few officers milling about her floor, too. Her apartment door, it was wide open.
 
Otto spotted the lights from a distance. He had been hoping that they were maybe there for someone else, but he saw her door open and swore. What the hell? This wasn't about the marks, was it? He'd said to Erik that he'd give him the money!

His mind went to the photos in his back pocket. Shit. What was he meant to do with them? He pulled them out, and looked around his car for a hiding area. Glove compartment was too obvious. He reached under his seat and stuffed the photos right back, hidden away unless you really looked for them. He slipped out of his car and walked towards where a couple officers were standing. "Excuse me, sirs? What's happened?" He asked, trying to look as calm and collected as possible.
 
The officer looked at Otto and held up a hand to stop him from going any further. "I'm sorry, sir. You can't go any further." He didn't seem like he was going to offer up any additional information as to what was going on, but a moment later Laila was being escorted out in handcuffs. Her cheeks were tear stained, and fresh tears started falling when she caught sight of Otto. There were dark circles under her eyes, rings of mascara and eyeliner smeared by her tears.

The officer who had stopped Otto ushered him to the side so that they could escort Laila by. Several of her neighbors had peeked out their doors or windows to see what was going on. All of them saw her being arrested.
 
Otto took a step back, as if to show the officers that he didn’t plan on making a move towards them. He opened his mouth to ask again, and that’s when he saw it.

He froze, words falling apart in his throat. “Laila.” A tiny whisper, voice cracking in realisation. He didn’t mean to say it. It just sort of came out. How was this happening? He wanted to run to her, pick her up and run off, but even if the officers between them weren’t there he didn’t think he’d have been able to. That’s the power of your world falling apart for a second time, right before your eyes.

He couldn’t help but watch her walk past. “Please, what’s going on?” He asked shakily, though he knew full well. That fucking bastard!
 
Some officer finally took pity, beside it was interesting gossip. "A blank was reported living here. They're taking her in for questioning." He was helping with crowd control because a few other people were starting to gather around, so he didn't stay long to talk to Otto.

Laila never even saw him as they roughly shoved her into the back of the police car. She sat in the backseat, shaking uncontrollably. She was scared, embarrassed, and she felt utterly betrayed. Just when things were starting to look up for her, her whole life was ruined. She knew Erik had done something, but she didn't know the why. She'd been paying him, and just because she hadn't caved to give him more... that didn't mean anything, right?

She knew what came next, too. She would be inked, publicly, and against her will. It would be like reliving that night all over again. When she looked out the window, she saw a familiar face. "Otto," She whispered.
 
Otto opened his mouth to say something else, but his shaking bottom lip made it impossible. He just clamped his jaw shut and gave a tight nod. He turned around and started to walk back to his car. He looked up at the police cruiser, and made eye contact with her.

He lifted a hand to his ear, like a child would play at using a phone. No matter what they thought she was, surely, they still had to give her a phone call. Surely.

He was going to head back to his car now - drive home, wait for the call - but paused. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, making sure that he was moving his mouth enough that the words were clear to her. Though she wouldn’t hear it, his voice was cracking. He rubbed at his eye, then rushed off to his car.
 
Everything was happening in a blur. The car moving, how they escorted her out of the car, the cell she was forced to share with some woman who was, thankfully, asleep. The one thing she had to hold onto was Otto, his lips telling her it was going to be okay. She was sure that's what he had said and Laila replayed that scene in her mind over and over and over again. She didn't say anything to anyone, didn't answer any questions and only seemed to come to life when they told her she could make a call.

She knew Otto's number by heart now and she dialed it, frantically. Her face was wet again, tears streaming down her face but there was no sniffling or sobbing. Just the silent line of tears as she listened to the ringing and then when the phone picked up, the operator asking if Otto would be willing to take the call.
 
Otto returned to his apartment. He immediatly went to the phone and sat on the seatee. He did nothing else but wait. He couldn't think of anything else. It was a relief when the phone finally rang. He picked it up, and very nearly shouted at the operator. "Of course! Just put her on!" When she was put through, he struggled to not start crying himself. "Laila!" He gasped. "I swear to god, when I get my hands on Eric, I'll...I'll...!"
 
Her shoulders sagged in relief when she heard his voice and Laila breathed his name. It eased her terror, if only for a moment. "You know what they're going to do the me, right?" She was trying so hard not to freak out. "Just... be careful, okay?"
 
A lump rose in his throat. "There's no way out of it, is there?" He asked, the hopelessness leaking into his voice. Though for other crimes there was always chance to defend yourself, or get bailed out, the crime of being blank was far different. He took a deep breath. "Do you want me to come to the inking?" He asked quietly.
 
Just the words... the inking... a sob burst forth from her and she had to bite down on her knuckles to get herself under control. "No, you shouldn't see that." Of course she wanted him there, she didn't want to be alone, but it was going to be hard and painful and emotional and she couldn't ask him to be there. "I just... I needed to hear your voice. I'm sure you'll hear when it's going to happen." The hand she'd been biting down on touched the back of her neck where the ink would be placed. "Hey, Otto? I think... I think I loved you. I'm sorry for all of this."
 
Otto had already made the decision when he asked the question. "Okay," he said quietly. There was a tiny, melancholic smile on his face as he listened to the end. He pressed the back of his hand into his eyes, holding back the sniffling. "I'll...I'll..." He didn't know what to say. "I love you," he finally finished.
 
From the other end of the phone there was a shout indicating that her time was up and Laila sighed, heavily. "I'll... talk to you soon." Maybe. She'd end the call before he could say anything else and from there she'd be taken back to her cell to wait until her far too public branding was to commence.

As much as she needed him there, she really hoped that Otto wouldn't show up.

The morning of, Laila was determined to be strong. She would not shed a single tear in front of these people, those watching her humiliation. She held her head up high as the officers came to collect her.
 
Otto listened to the line go dead. The dial tone screamed in his ear. He put the phone back on the wall, and sat in the deafening silence.

He didn't remember heading to bed, but when he woke up early the next day he was there, still in his day clothes. He got changed and headed towards the tattoo parlour. His mind was clouded, and went to open the door before realising that the shutters were down.

From around the back of the shop, his boss walked to the front, fairly surprised to see Otto there.. He was a stout man in his thirties, covered head to toe in ink. If skin could speak, his would scream. "What're you doing here, Otto?" Angelo asked. "I left a message on your phone, didn't you check? Work's off today."

Dread sat in Otto's stomach. "How come?" He asked.

The head inker came in closer to mumble the next sentences. "There was a blank in the town. They're marking her today."

Otto could have thrown up. He thought that there would have been time. He thought that they would leave it, at least for a little while. Let the rumours boil. Looking around now, the streets were mostly empty. The town hall was farther away, after all.

He might've tried to act surprised. But he didn't. "Everyone's at the town centre then?" He asked.
Angelo nodded. "Yeah. C'mon into my car, I'll give you a ride. We might miss it otherwise."

A couple minutes later the two arrived in the town hall car park. It was entirely full, and they had to park on the street nearby. The pair of inkers walked down to the stage directly in front of the town hall. It was like the whole town was there; Otto wouldn't have been able to push to the front unless he shoved through the crowd.

There were two chairs on the centre of the raised platform, and a podium off to the left. There was a wooden table, covered in inking equipment, and a razor that glinted in the sunlight. One of the chairs was a basic wooden stool. The other was a regular, more comfortable chair that Otto had used himself in his job.

A figure walked to the podium. By the way the hush descended over the crowd, it was easy to guess who it was. Preston Hall, the mayor of the town. He was fairly progressive, and generally liked by Saintstone's large younger demographic. The one thing he wasn't progressive about was blanks. Laws had gotten a lot harsher since he'd been in charge.

He cleared his throat. "Good morning, people of Sainstone. We are all gathered here today because of a threat that has been hiding in the depths of our good town for far too long." He would go on and on, but Otto's eyes were every where but their mayor. He was looking from the door of the town hall to the roads around them. He didn't really know where they took blanks once they were arrested.
 
Preston surveyed the crowd, eyes settling on the tattoo artist. Otto. "A blank was discovered hiding in our midst. Eating, living, working among us all. Even befriending some of you." The anonymous source that had turned the blank in had made it seem like the tattoo artist had known she was a blank this entire time. If it were true and he was still dating her, then he had betrayed every person in this town.

Preston Hall saw a chance to punish him as well as test his loyalty to his people or risk being branded as well. He gestured to the police van was parked, the criminal tucked away inside. He made sure that she looked as grungy and unclean as possible so that everyone gathered could see just how disgusting and unnatural blanks are. At his gesture, the officer standing at the back of the van opened the doors and Laila was escorted out by two officers.

Her hands were cuffed in front of her, her hair was in knots, and she was still wearing her comfortable clothes from when she'd been dragged out of her apartment. But she held her head high and defiant, refusing to let it hang. She may have been in hiding, but she was not ashamed. All of her fake tattoos had been washed away and her skin was bare of any markings. "As you know," Preston continued as Laila was brought to stand beside him, "Saintstone has zero tolerance for blanks in our society."

Her eyes found Otto easily and it wasn't until then that water filled her eyes. He would be here to bear witness to her shame.
 
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