Chapter Text
Private had definitely experienced his fair share of panic-inducing moments. Terror and action were part of the job, and he couldn’t do anything to avoid it.
He watched his friends narrowly avoid death while he was captured and unable to do anything to help them. He was there every time one of Kowalski’s inventions went horrifically wrong and threatened to blow up half the city. He had stared down the barrel of a gun - sometimes literally - more times than he could count.
This - standing all alone on Savio’s front porch with no backup whatsoever - was an entire new level of dread. He might as well be digging his own unmarked grave a thousand miles away from everyone he ever cared about.
He took a deep breath, pushed his phone deeper into his pocket, desperately hoping it wasn’t visible, and knocked on the door.
There was no response, and Private wondered if he should knock again.
Then, the door opened.
Savio looked surprised to see him standing there, but he recovered quickly. “Mi amigo!” he said, breaking into a (rather unnerving) smile. “It’s so good to see you!”
Private’s First Rule of Having Tactical Tea with Enemies and Not Getting Killed:
Act civil.
“Likewise,” Private said in a cheerful tone that could not have sounded genuine.
The lack of sincerity was either unnoticed or unconcerning. “I’m glad you could make it. Please, come in.”
He took a step forward and tried not to flinch when the door slammed shut.
Savio stepped in front of him. “Follow me.”
Private nodded - even though he felt like he was being led to his own execution - and followed him down the hall and into what must’ve been the living room. Savio sat on one of the chairs, and Private nervously did the same, choosing the one across from him. He looked at the artwork hanging on the walls, the pattern on the carpet, the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, anywhere and everywhere except at Savio, who was focusing on him with a bit more intensity than he was comfortable with.
“Your house is quite lovely,” Private said, mostly to get Savio to say something instead of just staring at him.
Savio gave him an amused look. “Too lovely for… how did you put it… vermin like myself to be living in?”
“I didn’t mean that,” Private protested, his cheeks coloring. “I was just… angry, and I say silly things when I’m upset.” He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry if I said something hurtful.”
He was sorry, but only because it was making things difficult for him now.
“Hurtful?” Savio repeated with a laugh. “I found it amusing. Your little attempt to offend me was so adorable I could just eat you up!”
Private didn’t like the sound of that. “I was told no harm would come to me,” he reminded Savio, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.
Savio held his hands up in mock surrender. “My apologies, it’s a habit.”
“Then all’s well that ends well, I suppose,” he said. The two of them sat in silence for a moment.
Private’s Second Rule of Having Tactical Tea with Enemies and Not Getting Killed:
Find out whatever you possibly can.
Unfortunately, Savio wasn’t going to tell him anything about his latest plan or probably anything important, for that matter. The only time Private ever got any information from the man was when he was literally sitting on Savio lap - which he wasn’t remotely comfortable with even when Savio was tied to a chair and Skipper was giving him a death glare from across the room, let alone when they were unattended and this maniac was in his own home.
So that left small talk and possibly exploring, if he could get away from Savio long enough to actually find anything.
Private pushed the thought out of his mind. He couldn’t do anything with Savio in the room with him. “What kind of tea are we having?”
“Do you have a preference?” Savio asked, getting to his feet.
“Not really. Well…” Private pretended to think for a moment. “I do like pretty cups, so if you happen to have any, they would be very much appreciated.”
“It won’t be as pretty as you, but I’m sure I can find something.”
Private forced a smile on his face even though his stomach was turning. “Thank you.”
As soon as Savio was out of the room, Private pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had three new messages from Skipper, but he ignored them for now, instead pulling up the rough map of this house Kowalski had drawn on his whiteboard a while ago. If he was reading it correctly, the office, which was most likely where any financial records were kept, was two doors down from the one he was in now and the opposite way Savio had gone.
He stood up and began making his way to the office, moving as quickly and quietly as possible. Luckily, the door was open, so he didn’t need to worry about squeaky hinges alerting anyone of his presence.
The desk in the middle of the room was a mess, covered in assorted notebooks and papers. Private crept closer and used his phone camera to take photos of anything that looked interesting. He sent each picture to Rico, who didn’t check his phone often enough to notice them for at least another day.
There was a notification signaling another message from Skipper, which he could read later. Right now, he was on a mission.
One that Savio was about to know about. Private could hear footsteps somewhere down the hall.
Private’s Third Rule of Having Tactical Tea with Enemies and Not Getting Killed:
Know when to cut your losses and RUN.
He got what he came for, so he darted out of the room with the intention of going back where he started and ducked into the first doorway he saw.
Which was, as luck would have it, not the living room at all. It was the guest bedroom one door to the left of the living room.
Private couldn’t help it; he was officially panicking. The only thing worse than being cornered by Savio was being cornered by Savio in a bedroom, of all places. Unsure of what else to do, Private curled up in the corner of the room’s only closet, shut the door as quietly as he possibly could, and reached for his phone to message his team.
It wasn’t in his pocket, so he cracked open the door just enough to peek into the room and was immediately overwhelmed with dread.
“How adorable,” Savio mused, bending down to pick up the item Private so carelessly left behind. “Someone thinks he can hide even though he left a trail - not to mention his only means of communication - right here for me to find.”
Private didn’t respond.
“I invite you over for tea, welcome you into my home, and in return, you sneak around my office. Traidor .”
Once again, Private remained silent. Even he couldn’t say anything to make his actions seem harmless.
“I, for one, am hurt,” Savio continued. “You barely even tried to convince me your little tea party charade was legitimate.”
“The tea party charade wasn’t mine to begin with,” Private retorted, trying to sound calm and collected even though he wanted to scream. “I was just playing along.”
“I expected as much.”
“What do you mean?”
“I expected you to try something like this, although how eager you were to abandon all decorum is a bit… difficult to swallow. ”
Private barely paid attention to the second half of Savio’s statement. Words that would’ve normally made his skin crawl were overshadowed by the fact Savio had quite possibly planned all of this.
And he fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
“My team will find me.”
He could almost hear the smirk in Savio’s voice. “If they even notice you’re gone.”
They would notice. They would have to notice.
His heart sank. They wouldn’t notice. Everyone in that apartment knew when to back off, they wouldn’t go barging into his room after he asked to be left alone. Instead, they would assume the silence beyond the door was just him choosing not to respond and leave it at that.
“They… they will,” Private choked out.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“You’re wrong. They’ll notice eventually.”
“Ah, but will they do anything? Or will they think you left because you were upset and not go after you?”
“They’d follow me even if I told them not to.”
Which wasn’t necessarily true.
Skipper and Rico would want to go after him regardless of his words, but Kowalski would most likely talk them out of it. Of course, if he knew his friend was in danger, he’d be just as eager to rush into danger as Skipper was, but the last time they had talked, Private had assured him he just needed to be alone for a while, and Kowalski would no doubt pass that on to the rest of the group.
“Would they really?” Savio inquired, taking another step closer to Private’s hiding spot and leaning toward him. “No one made any real effort to comfort you when you were crying.”
“Kowalski did! I wanted to be left alone, and he respected my boundaries!”
“I am just saying-”
“Nothing,” Private interrupted furiously. “You aren’t saying anything. Just be quiet.”
Savio huffed an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But before I go, I thought I would give you some information to chew-.”
“Get on with it.”
Savio pulled open the closet door and locked eyes with Private. “Your team will definitely come for you. It is obvious. What is less obvious, though, is the hidden troops I have positioned to the north and west, ready to slaughter them the moment they show up. Even knowing this, you have absolutely no way of alerting them.” He glanced down at the stolen phone in his hand. “Oh, and Skipper sent you a message. How cute, he thinks he’ll get the chance to make up with you.”
Normally, Private was the peaceful one. He was the one who would ask Skipper to let them try a nonviolent approach, because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wasn’t the type to lash out in any situation.
But something about the statement pushed him too far.
“What the bloody hell is the matter with you?!” Private snapped, not even thinking as he leapt up and lunged in Savio’s direction, frantically trying to reclaim his only means of communication.
Savio effortlessly avoided him and was standing in the doorway before Private even got the chance to process what happened. “I promise you’ll have front-row seats when the time comes to make them suffer.”
With that, he stepped into the hallway, slammed the door shut, and locked it from the outside, leaving Private all alone with the knowledge that could end the lives of the three people he cared most about.