Patreon Compilation – Fic#128 – Soldier76 + Doomfist – no sex; brainwashing; total obedience – Old Dogs Can Learn New Tricks (Patreon)

Continuation of this reward drabble (Patreon link)

Soldier76 + Doomfist – Doomfist, and Talon in general, have been very diligent in brainwashing their precious acquisition of Soldier76. Tonight is his big test: going up against the team he once supported.

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Akande doesn’t usually get his hands dirty with any of the rabble, but Soldier has been a pet project of his and he takes great care in ensuring that it will go swimmingly.

He steps into the hangar. He can see Soldier and his caretakers immediately, standing in front of the jet and patiently waiting for him. Soldier hasn’t been acting up in quite a while now, but they still have his arms bound behind his back when he is not needed to use them, and chains going from a collar around his neck into their more or less lax hands.

They know he is docile now after what Akande did to him;  yet it is better to stay safe than be sorry.

Akande steps up to them, noting with a good amount of pleasure how Soldier’s eyes are flinching away from him. He is still afraid. Good. Fear makes him more pliant and eager to follow them along.

He stands in front of him for quite a while, just quietly staring him down and noting every flinch and tremble in his face as the time drags on and his nerves ramp up.

Eventually Akande relaxes fractionally and nods.

“This will be one of your last trial runs to determine your loyalty and usefulness to our mission. We don’t want any… mishaps to happen, do we?”

Soldier’s eyes jerk up at that to stare at him. He looks honestly offended, which is a very good sign indeed. He keeps his tongue, though, remembering well not to talk back at Akande. Ah… what a perfectly good specimen. Overwatch has done well to train this little man up into the picture perfect Soldier that he is now.

Akande reaches out and grabs Soldier’s chin, fingers digging into his skin painfully.

“Who do you obey?”

“You. Talon.”

Akande’s mouth twitches slightly, pleased with the immediate, heartfelt answer. He nods slowly.

“I will be watching you, pet. You better not do anything stupid. Anything that would lead me to believe that you are not completely convinced by our cause.”

Soldier stands up a bit straighter, obvious pride in the swell of his chest as he barks: “Yes, Sir!”

Akande stares at him for a moment longer before finally letting go of him and patting his cheek hard enough to be a slap.

“Good.” He takes a small step back and looks at Soldier’s caretakers. “I heard that they are right on route as we speak. We need to get a move on; wouldn't want them to arrive without a welcome committee, do we?”

They salute him smartly, one pulling out a communication device to bark orders into it to their pilot while they move into the aircraft, Soldier moving without any resistance.

.o.

Soldier knows what the mission is about, and the stakes therein. He doesn’t care for the people they are going to meet, but he is intimately aware of the scrutiny put on him by Talon – and by Akande in particular.

He needs to not fuck up. He needs them to understand that he is theirs. That he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for them, or be killed for them. Ever. Never. There is nothing but them.

Is there?

The rogue thought skitters through his head like the involuntary twitch of a muscle. He jerks mildly, blinking and confused as to where it came from, eyes searching for Akande and insides relaxing immediately when he sees him.

They are in the air for a good two hours before the pilot tells them their arrival is ETA 5 minutes.

“We already have spotted some movement. They might be only three; probably a scouting unit.”

Soldier is up, vibrating with the need to prove himself and to stretch his muscles. His caretakers unleash him. A weapon is pressed into his hands; it feels absolutely perfect lying in his fingers.. He can feel the hum of the power against his palms. As they go down, the aircraft rocking with it, Soldier waiting to slip out as soon as the door open, he sees movement in the corner of his eye. Akande.

He turns toward him, heart beating faster at the sight of the tall man, though he barely even remembers anymore why he is so deathly afraid of him; so very much in awe of him…

“You will make me proud, Soldier.”

It is not a question. Akande’s dark eyes bore into him, seeing his every nook and cranny.

“Yes, Sir.”

.o.

Soldier hasn’t forgotten any of the faces he sees while ducking and diving in and out of fire. It’s just that he doesn’t care about them anymore. He knows their names and even remembers some of the quirks that he has come to associate with them during his time on the Overwatch base, but it doesn’t spark any fondness for them now.

His mind is filled with Akande and Talon; trying not to look like he sympathizes with the enemy so they won’t have a reason to kick him out or kill him.

It’s made more difficult by the enemy trying to reason with him. They keep managing to throw off his aim one way or another while screaming worthless epithets at him that have him all the more aware of Akande’s scrutiny on him.

He couldn’t fail him. He wouldn’t.

Soldier becomes more feral in the process, the jerks of his elbows when the enemy comes near brutal and efficient as he tries to break their noses and ram the shards of bone right up into their brain.

They are quick enough to always slip out of his range before he can connect, but he can see the desperation on their faces and that is enough to make him relax again at least a little bit.

Vermin always is weak in the end. It is why they don’t deserve to live and to thrive in the new world that Doomfist wants to create for them all. He can see the hesitation to kill in their faces and the anguish over losing what they once considered an ally. It fuels his bloodlust.

Akande had called that his killer instinct; the one that all superior predators possessed – and he agrees wholeheartedly. Looking at their whimpering and whining, it has bile rising to the back of his throat. Had he really been one of them before? Had he really been someone that would crumple up crying and snotty just because the enemy wore an easily recognizable face?

Disgusting. Absolutely and truly disgusting.

His thoughts are on Akande and how he needs to impress him as he tries to terminate the opposition like a machine. He doesn’t feel the hits he takes until the battle is over and nobody has either won or lost.

The little insects from Overwatch had suddenly vanished, leaving him standing in the middle of an unrecognizable ruin, muscles trembling with overexertion. He is bleeding but couldn’t say from where; everything hurts…

Until Akande’s heavy, carefully measured footsteps approach from behind. Soldier’s back straightens immediately, his heart pounding faster in his chest. Akande’s huge hand claps down on his shoulder hard enough he would crumble had he not been using his pulse rifle to keep himself up in the first place.

He daren’t turn around. Doomfist’s presence is like a furnace at his back. He is larger than life. His presence is… awe inspiring; as is his voice when he speaks, low and smooth and completely collected – unlike the screaming and grovelling maggots he had been fighting just then.

“You did very well. No casualties this time… but they are slippery little fish, are they not?”

“Yes, Sir,” Soldier replies, voice rougher than usual. He tries to keep standing tall, but his muscles are trembling and want to give out on him.

Akande’s praise ricochets through his body. It makes him want to… kneel and soak it up.

Before he can do any of that, the huge hand pulls away from his shoulder and he gets a crisp command that his body follows even before his brain has computed it: “Come.”

Soldier moves after the imposing figure back toward the dropship that had brought him here in the first place.

He knows that there had been no reason to be here; no objective other than to fight his past companions… and he is fine with it.

Whatever it takes to show that he is loyal and unflinching in the face of violence.

He walks on stiff legs to the seat indicated to him and slides down into it without a word of question. He feels like he is about to vibrate out of his seat from adrenaline despite the belts hooking him down. Nobody approaches him, as if he were a dangerous animal that they don’t want to rouse.

That is good. Very good. Akande looks smug and proud.

In his ears still ring the sounds of Overwatch’s voices trying to reason with him. They fade out soon enough and leave behind blessed silence and his own dogged thoughts about wanting to exterminate the vermin that doesn’t deserve to live.