cw // mentions of drug use, drug withdrawal symptoms, violence, dues ex machina because I can’t make a reason for it

Octane is a danger to himself and everyone around him. This is what he thinks as he shimmies, shaking his head back and forth and hyping himself up. He has so desired this- its an impulse. Octane never decides to do things, he just does them. The cheetah has only blabbered his complaints about this life to Caustic- the only one who had the patience to listen, as always. He wasn’t going to listen to whatever shitty thoughts Caustic had now, let the other stop him.

He couldn’t imagine Caustic would stop him- the scientist tended to let Octane make his own mistakes. His partner didn’t care about anyone, didn’t love people, as far as Octane knew. He only knew Caustic as himself- the brute force Toxic Trapper who only knew to kill.

“Okay, come on-” Octane inhales sharply, then exhales, licking his lips as he threw the racoon into the pond. A gator snapped it’s jaws upon the corpse. This was good- it wouldn’t know where the handouts ended and Octane’s hand began. This is what he wants, some kind of danger, something that could kill him. Octane wants the rush, heart beat in his ears, blood pumping in his veins- it’s how Octane feels alive.

This is what he needs. Few things in life are powerful enough to rev Octane’s engine, and close brushes with death may as well be nitro fuel. Octane is a junkie at his core- it’s all he cares for. The next hit, the next rush, the next death. He won’t admit to the state of his brain, how he was in privacy after coming here.

Crashing was hard. It’d been weeks since he got here and Octane didn’t consider the consequences of dropping Stim like that after using it daily. He couldn’t get back some drug that didn’t exist, crack couldn’t be made, it drove him up the fucking wall. Maybe Octane had himself to blame for not fitting in the Typhoon- if he wasn’t running, trying to challenge himself, he was laying in his hut, too tired to move. The speedster didn’t know fatigue and depression till the weeks after arriving. Perhaps, that’s why it was good he was with the scientist now. Caustic kept him from going too far. Thinking about it made Octane chew on his paws, how he would pant and shake, vomit in the dead of night.

Perhaps he’s pathetic, chasing after danger just to get a kick. Doesn’t matter- death is the cost of his desire. Octane knows this, Caustic knows this, and it’s the only way he can feel something. Stabbing himself in the chest all day with Stim really destroys the nervous system.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Octane steps closer to the pond, throwing in the other prey, a squirrel, letting the alligators ravage and tear. He needs them to get a taste for flesh, get their blood pumping.

What if he dies? Like, for realsies? Would Caustic care? Would anyone care? Octane grumbles, he doesn’t have friends, he has fans. He has a lab partner and Ajay, that’s all he should need, right?

Caustic wouldn’t care. He’d fucking take notes, knowing him. Octane bundles himself, ready leap into bone crushing. The scent of coffee whiffs into his nose, and he hisses, turning around to see the devil himself.

He knows what Octavio is like, like this. He’s unreachable, too far away in his own brain to be reasoned with. If he’s chasing after death wishes, especially now, when they have too much to do and better things to do with their time together. Well, no, that’s a lie. Without his own work or the hope of return to their home, the only work left was each other. Caustic is an enigma, he likes it that way. He doesn’t want people to get too close and even less wants them to get to know him.

The speedster doesn’t even know his name.

“Octavio,” he starts, tilting his head over to look behind his partner, at the alligators ravaging prey. “You do realize you may not come back, correct?” He has to ask. Octavio is not known for his brain in any regard.

“Yeah, and if I didn’t? You don’t care.” Octane hisses, his tail lashing. Caustic thinks he’s so fucking smart. He didn’t know shit, he didn’t fucking know what was wrong with him. Caustic cares about the physical body, never the mental.

“I would be… disappointed. You are an amazing subject, Octavio,” Caustic knows he’s playing with fire. Octane is fire- dangerous and volatile. The daredevil’s manic psychosis is likely to take him with it, fire consuming both. “I don’t care about anyone, Octane, but I need you,” Caustic realizes, it’s one of the closest ways he can express to Octavio, “I love you.” He knows the other does not want to be loved- he wants a best friend. He wants a partner.
Caustic is one of those things.


“Amazing subject, fuck you,” Octane spits, raising his hackles and feeling claws dig into the ground. He shouldn’t be angry but he is, he’s lashing out at Caustic. “I’m fucking tired of being here, Caustic,” he pants, watching the scientist slowly close the distance between them. “You were supposed to get us out of here, fuckface!” Octane screams- there’s tears in his eyes now. “I wanna kill something, I wanna run off a high cliff, no strings attached,” he keens, sitting up a little as Caustic stands inches away now.

Caustic’s tail falls between his legs, and his ears back. The words bite at him, twisting into his chest. He is never one to fail, and now he has. “I know, I’m sorry,” he attempts to be sympathetic, raising his paw to place it on Octavio’s shoulder.

The daredevil slaps him away with a hiss, biting insults at him in snake tongue.  “Fuck you, I hate you,” the statement is said with bared teeth and a hiss.

“You don’t mean that,” Caustic says, looming over his partner and taking another step closer. He can let the image reconstruct in his mind. Octavio’s young, angry face, spitting at him, gun or knife in hand. The daredevil would have to tilt his head up to meet Caustic’s gaze- which is what he was doing now.

“And if I did?” Octane hisses again, stepping closer himself and remembering just how fucking small he is. The scientist’s gaze is cold as ever, and he remembers just how easy Caustic could snap him in two.

Caustic knows the other doesn’t mean it. He could never leave Octavio’s side at this point- despite all the other’s shortcomings. He was someone familiar, someone that could be trusted. They know each other inside and out, brain and body, “then you can leave.” Caustic knows he won’t.

Octane’s mouth snaps shut, bundling his nerves. He.. where would he go? If he left? He… he can’t be alone, loneliness kills him and Caustic is a listener. The rational part of his brain knows this, knows he shouldn’t push Caustic away, shouldn’t being a stupid fuck like he always is.

He’s not rational right now, though. Caustic is to suffer the force of his blow. The cheetah leaps, tackling into the wolf and sending both of them tumbling to the mud. Octane screams, because this is good, this is what he needed. Caustic bites down on him, venom entering his veins but pulls back just as quickly.
Octane is pinned beneath the wolf, watching Caustic recoil at his action. “Octavio, I apologize-”

No. Fuck you. You don’t get to apologize, Octane wanted to fight, and he’s gonna fucking do it. Octane kicks out with one of his legs, getting Caustic in the gut. The scientist falls to his side, winded, choking on air as gas blows from his mouth in furious fumes. They turn each other again, he watches Caustic spit blood on the ground with a lip of his lips. Caustic leaps at him with bared teeth this time, and their brawl began.

// you... just need the last two paragraphs