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Title: Death Match
Series: 1) The Ring, 2) Respite
Warnings: DARKFIC!!! rape, violence, brutality
Summary: Tony vanishes and Gibbs tracks him into the violence of a human slavery ring. Jethro's first death match.
It was the same cage where his other fights had taken place. The same twelve by fourteen cement-floor surrounded by a chain-link fence. Probably the same crowd shouting and cheering and booing as he and his opponent were led in from opposite sides. Definitely the same men in the upper level viewing box; the men with the power. The men Jethro tried his best to see clearly every time he had to fight so he knew who to kill later.
His first death match. The first life he would have to take in cold blood since the drug dealer who'd killed his family. It was fitting, really, since he was doing this to protect Tony who was also his family.
The other man was big, very big, easily topping six feet, and solid muscle. He was clearly the favorite from the way the crowd yelled on his arrival. But big didn't necessarily mean impossible to beat, even with the longer reach and obvious strength. The scars on his body showed that he'd been in a lot of fights and, since he was still standing, he'd obviously won them all. What he didn't know was if the guy was actually a good fighter, or if he'd used brute force.
Jethro had spent the last half-hour warming up, stretching and working his muscles until he could move without any of his usual twinges from age. At least there weren't any clothes to worry about getting in the way. All the fighters and sex-slaves were kept nude from what he saw. It probably saved a ton of money in cleaning costs, plus had the bonus of keeping the 'stock' off-balance.
He knew that he was ready for this physically and mentally, it was kill or be killed, end of story. And if he died, Tony would too, which was unacceptable. That didn't mean it wouldn't weigh on his soul later, if and when he had time to think about it.
The starting bell clanged and the crowd roared.
The other man taunted, "Ready to die, little man?"
Jethro attacked. He rushed the other man and slammed his foot into a knee, bringing the giant down with a cry of pain. It was almost child's play to wrap his arm around the man's neck and jerk upwards, snapping it.
The body fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
The crowd fell silent, clearly stunned by the speed and merciless nature of Jethro's attack.
Then someone gave a cowboy yell of triumph and shouted, "Pay up, suckers! Looks like there's a new champ in town!"
Jethro gave the crowd an impassive look despite the pounding of his heart against his ribcage. He quelled the urge to vomit and walked back to the door, waiting to be brought back to his cell.
The guard let him out and said, "Next time, draw it out a lot longer. Work for it, even if you don't need to. They're here for entertainment and you need to deliver or there'll be trouble."
Looking at the guard, Jethro replied, "Death isn't entertainment."
"It is for them."
And as sick as the simple statement was, Jethro also knew that it was true.
***Next story in series: Whore.
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