Fic: While Rome Burned

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: While Rome Burned
Chapters: 1/2 (too long for LJ to deal with, had to divide)
Author: csi_sanders1129
Genre: Hurt/Comfort. Angst. Friendship. Romance.
Ratings: M
Word Count: 4,167/10,312
Pairings/Characters: Jed/Octavius, Larry, Emperor Nero.
Synopsis: In which a new addition (Emperor Nero) to the Roman diorama causes serious trouble for our two favorite miniatures.
Comments: Written in response to trope_bingo prompt: hurt/comfort. First NATM fic, and it's actually been in progress for a long time, so I'm really happy it's finally done. This does sort of alter things to make the museum characters a little more human like than they appear in the films, and less like plastic. So injuries are a little more serious. Pretty graphically violent scene included. Hope no one is too OOC - Nero sure isn't. He was a creepy, sadistic, crazy historical figure. Historical sidenotes: for those of you who don't know, Gaius Octavius eventually becomes Augustus, the first Emperor of Rome. Also, title comes from the infamous phrase "Nero fiddled while Rome burned," which, though a historically anachronistic idiom, sounds really cool. Characters are not mine, please enjoy! Comments are awesome.

"Mr. Daley!"

The call comes the second he'd stepped foot into the museum's main lobby. Larry has only just arrived for his shift, and such an immediate summoning from Dr. McPhee is likely not a good thing. He fears another mishap with one of the exhibits, though nothing had been amiss when he'd taken his leave early this morning. Nonetheless, Larry braces himself for the worst as he approaches his ever-disgruntled boss.

"I've got something to show you," he continues, and Larry breathes a sigh of relief when he finds that they're going down to storage instead.

"What is it?"

"New miniatures," McPhee answers, approaching a wooden shipping crate that's been left by the loading dock. "We'll be loaning the Mayan diorama out to Chicago..."

And, again, Larry finds himself relieved. Out of all of the exhibits, he's never managed to reign in the Mayan's - and certainly out of all of the diorama's on display, it's the only one he could stand to lose. If it had been Rome or the West, that would've been bad. He'd have had to find a way to stop it.

"And we'll be using that space to expand the Roman exhibit."

"Ugh," he groans, unable to catch the sound before it escapes his mouth. Jed is not going to be happy to hear that Rome is expanding and the West is not, especially since it directly contradicts that whole 'manifest destiny' thing he's always going on about.

But, Dr. McPhee isn't privy to the delicate balance of museum life, and the equally delicate hold Larry has managed to keep on it, so he's just staring at the night-guard as if he's insane. "Problem?"

"No," he answers, quickly. "No. Got anyone good in there?"

"Well, 'good' is relative term, we've obtained a figurine of the Emperor Nero. We've gotten several of his generals and a host of soldiers, too."

Larry hopes that they mesh well with those already occupying the Roman diorama, and agree to continue the peace with the other exhibits in exchange for the free reign that most of the others enjoy, though he suspects dealing with an Emperor might prove more difficult that the easy loyalty he's gotten from Octavius.

"When are you putting them in?"

"I'll be adding them in before I leave for the night, Mr. Daley."

He cringes. So much for a chance to ease Jed into this, to break the news ahead of time. "Alright, then," he reluctantly agrees before he takes his leave.

They don't pay him near enough to deal with irate cowboys first thing at night.

---

The shift comes slowly, like it always does. It starts with thoughts, the awareness that they'll be waking up soon, and then it seeps into their bones as they form from the plastic. Bones to muscle to flesh and blood, as the ability to feel works its way outwards via the magic of Ahkmenrah's tablet. Another second to regain movement and sight and voice and then it's like they never went to sleep for the day.

Jed comes back to the noise from the train, and the unending clatter of work on the tracks. "S'enough, men," he calls because by now he's given up on actually making progress on the railroad. None of them want to waste away their time on a pointless project when they have the whole museum to roam as they wish. The only time they actively work on the railroads comes with the periodic night hours. "Call it a day."

His men tip their hats at him as they pass on their way away from their exhibit and he waits until most have gone before he starts toward the wall the West shares (despite numerous attempts at blasting it out) with the Roman area.

"Octy!" He calls, expecting, as always, to find his friend there. It's where they always meet before they go exploring.

But, today he isn't there.

"Octavius?" He calls out again, wandering over to the Roman side. Many of the soldiers are milling around, but he doesn't see any sign of Octavius' General's helm, which sets him apart from the legions of soldiers.

He's admittedly quite startled when he's suddenly surrounded by a ring of those soldiers armed with spears, which are all pointed at him.

"Hey, now!" He says, raising his hands. "What's goin' on?"

"You have dared intrude upon our Emperor's lands."

"Umm," Jed starts, nudging one of the spears aside a little when it gets a little too close for comfort. It whips back at him, even closer now, and presses him back against those ringed around behind him. "Just hold on a second there, ya'll know who I am. Octavius ain't gonna like this." Granted he doesn't actually know any of the soldiers here. He could recognize a couple of Octavius' higher-ups, but no one guarding the edges of their little worlds will be so well-known.

The one who seems to be in charge of this gang of fools doesn't appear bothered by Octavius' name. If anything, he looks amused. "We've been instructed to bring any intruders straight to Emperor Nero."

"What's a Nero?"

Someone bops him on the shoulder with the wooden shaft of a spear. "You will show the Emperor the proper respect."

"Ouch," he says, a hand flying to cover the spot, where it stings from the hit. "That smarts."

"March," the leader says, as spear-points poke insistently at his back.

He does. But he doesn't like it.

"Octy!" He calls, when he finally does spot the other man at the entrance to that Coliseum thing that he's always going on about. "Hey, tell your men to quit pokin' holes in my vest, will ya?"

And that clearly gets his attention, his head snapping up and his eyes scanning the gathered crowd for the cowboy. He marches over and addresses himself to the one who'd seemed in charge of the group. "I will handle this. Leave him to me."

"The Emperor commanded..."

"I will handle this."

The man huffs, indignant, and signals for his soldiers to drop their spears. "Don't think he won't be hearing of this."

"I have no doubt you will be rushing off to inform him straightaway," Octavius sighs, as the group retreats back to the boundaries of their section to continue their patrol. With them gone, Octavius grabs hold of Jed's sleeve and hauls him away from the amassed population - which, Jed notices, seems much bigger than normal - with haste. "What are you doing here?"

"Lookin' fer you, of course," Jed answers. "Why else would I come over here? We're supposed ta take the car out tonight and run ol' Rexy around."

Octavius frowns,"I can't."

"And just why the hell not?"

"The Emperor has forbidden us from leaving the confines of our territory."

Jed doesn't see why what some bossy, dress-wearing snob says matters, and he tells Octavius as much. "And Gigantor said we could do whatever we want," he counters. "I think I'll side with Gigantor. When did ya get an Emperor anyway?"

Octavius sighs, long and heavy, and leans back against a nearby wall. "Today, apparently. He's not my Emperor, I served no Emperor in my time, nor have my men. Things were... different, then."

"So, forget 'im," Jed says, nudging the other man lightly. "C'mon, Rexy's waitin' for us."

"Very well, my friend," he agrees, letting Jed drag him away from the exhibit despite the apprehensions on the matter.

---

"Come on, Octy," Jed sighs, pacing the line between their exhibits. He' staying on his own side tonight, thank you very much. He can see those spear-wielding maniacs lurking nearby and he's not giving them the satisfaction of catching him again. "Anytime now."

But he doesn't come.

This Emperor dude is getting on Jed's nerves.

He takes one last glance at the Roman side of things and heads off in the opposite direction. He'll find Larry and put in his two cents on this high and mighty Emperor who thinks he can keep Octavius away from his best friend.

And he does find Larry. It takes a while to locate the man in the sprawling maze of the museum, but eventually he happens upon Gigantor in the main lobby, playing fetch with Rex. Little Gigantor is around, too.

"Hey!" He calls, when he's sure that Larry will hear him. "What's the big idea puttin' all them new fellas in Octavius' world, huh?"

Larry cringes, "Yeah, about that..."

"Ya know, that jackass of a leader they got over there won't even let 'em out at night. He's got 'em all patrolling and bowing down to him like mindless puppets," he says. "Some of them spear-wieldin' robots even threatened me."

A sigh, and Larry nods. "I'll talk to him. For now, just keep your distance, okay?"

Not quite the answer he'd been hoping for - but since he'd been hoping for the immediate removal of the Nero dude, he's not really surprised. "Fine," he answers, "but do it soon, will ya?"

Another nod, a promise. Nick offers him the racecar, but he declines. It's not the same without Octavius.

He retreats back to the Western exhibit and, for once, wishes this miserable night would hurry up and end.

---

The next time he wakes, he's still lingeringly furious over what's happening in Rome. If Octavius doesn't show up today, he's going over there. Men with pointy sticks or no. He gives his friend an hour to meet him, but before that time is up, he hears an uproar from the always gathered crowds.

He's not sure what they're calling for, but he knows it isn't gonna be good. The patrolling soldiers are drawn into whatever's going on, so he takes the chance and slips over the boundary line.

Weaving his way through the people is a brazen move, especially given the supposed orders the men who'd grabbed him had gone on about, but no one seems to care about him right now.

"Nero!" They're all chanting. "Nero! Nero! Nero!"

He breaks through the front line of the crowd, he finds mostly soldiers there and among them, he spots several of Octavius' men. He's about to ask them what's going on, where their General has been hiding out, but he sees the answer to both of those things before he can ask.

Octavius.

And at first he doesn't understand. Octavius has been stripped of his upper armor and chained to a wooden pole, that Jed knows wasn't here before, his wrists are bound above his head, his bare back facing the crowd. He's dirty, and there's blood on his arms from where he's struggled against the binds, another spot on his head, where blood trails from matted hair, down his face to his neck.

A man approaches, armed with a whip that Jed would never even think of using on his horse, let alone another person and that's about when things click into place.

"Octavius!" He shouts, tries to surge forward and stop this before it can start, but someone is holding him back. Several people are holding him back. Soldiers. One of them Jed even knows. "Let go of me!"

"Shh," someone hisses at him, but he squirms and fights all the same. "Stop it," comes with the press of a spear to his back and he does, begrudgingly, still.

Despite the roar of the crowd, he hears, but thankfully doesn't see, the first strike of the whip. There's this choked off pained noise from Octavius that makes him look up in time for the second and there's already blood trailing from the fresh wounds. He realizes then that the whip ends in sharp little stones that tear flesh far too easily.

A third hit comes and Octavius stumbles, presses closer to the pole. Biting back a scream as the fourth and fifth hits come within seconds of each other.

Are they trying to kill him? Jed has to wonder. That thing is tearing Octavius' back to shreds. If they aren't trying to kill him, then they're trying to destroy him. And Jed knows for what.

He ignores the threat of the spear-point at his back and stomps down on the foot of the man keeping him from his friend. It's enough. Surprised, the man staggers back a foot or two, which allows Jed enough room to lurch in the other direction and rush forward.

"Octavius," he calls again, racing up the steps that elevate the pole so that it can be more easily seen by the gathered crowds. He sticks an arm out as he gets close, and catches what would have been hit number seven in the process of blocking his friend's body with his own.

There's a flash of pain and red immediately stains his sleeve, but somehow he manages to get hold of the thing and pull it out of the stranger's hand. He tosses it away and pulls his gun, instead, reveling in the familiar heavy weight of it in his hand, and aims for the head of the man who'd carried out the attack. "This stops now."

Spears surround him - them - again, but he doesn't give in. "What is wrong with you all?" Jed demands, focusing mainly on the spears that come from those he is familiar with. "How can ya just stand here and watch them do this? You've fought with Octavius, with me, with us! We fought for this," he gestures to the open space beyond the exhibit, "and now you're just gonna let some idiot in a fancy dress take it away from ya?"

There are shocked mumbles and angry threats. Any effect he might have had on Octavius' men is cancelled out by the irate soldiers who are loyal to this Nero. But then it gets worse.

"Idiot in a fancy dress?" comes an insulted, incredulous voice booming from above. Nearby, on another raised platform sits a man dressed ornately in comparison to the soldiers, surrounded by generals, it appears. "Seize him," the man, presumably the wonderful Emperor Nero, orders. "And continue with the punishment as ordered. Make him watch."

And, okay. Panic. That's panic he's feeling because there is not one thing going right.

"Get out of here," Octavius manages, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Jed, my friend, you must go."

He turns slowly in the ring of spears around them. Octavius is standing stock still against the pole, but for the shaking. Eyes closed to fight the pain. "No can do, buddy."

There's an exasperated sigh that morphs into a hiss of pain, but there's no time for arguing. Jed fires off a single shot, all he can manage before he's taken, dragged away from Octavius. The shot is aimed at Nero, but it goes wide and the bullet buries itself harmlessly in the stonework behind him. "No," he fights, "no, damn it, you're not gonna do this."

"Proceed," comes Nero's command, once Jed's been effectively restrained.

Jed stares resolutely at the ground, unwilling to watch, but the sound of the whip doesn't come.

"They don't count unless you're watching." Nero laughs at him, signaling for another strike before he can look up. "That one, for instance, did not count."

Jed raises his head, stares unblinking, at the gruesome sight before him and figures that he'll never be able to get these images out of his head. "I'm watching."

A nod from Nero and the strikes continue. The third attempt at the seventh hit is followed nearly immediately by the eighth. He feels Nero's eyes on him now, studying him carefully as he's forced to watch Octavius suffer.

Nine comes and Octavius slowly sinks down the pole, all of his weight resting on his arms.

Jed can't watch anymore.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

"Stop, stop it," he begs. "Look, I'll take the hits for him, just stop."

"You'll be getting hits of your own soon enough," Nero brushes him off.

"It's my fault," he continues, ignoring the fact that it's probably not a wise idea to keep shouting at the Emperor. "I made him leave with me that night, it's my fault he disobeyed whatever orders you gave."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Jed insists. "I talked him into it."

The thirteenth blow hits, harder than the others have and Octavius can't bite back the pain this time. He screams, scrabbling in an attempt to get away from the whip. Jed fights, too, as hard as he can.

"No general of mine should be so easily convinced to desert."

"Desert what?" Jed demands, angry. "This ain't... there aren't any enemies here, there's no war, no battle for them to fight. So what did he desert?"

Another hit comes then, criss-crossing over several of the other fresh wounds. Octavius sinks lower, but the movement must do something because there are more pained noises and Jed notes that his arm is twitching and looks oddly out of place. Damn it.

"C'mon," he tries, "I'll do whatever ya want me to. However many he has left and my own, I'll take them all. Just stop."

But then comes the next blow, and Jed would swear that it was aimed directly at the shoulder that is clearly injured. So is the one after that. The sixteenth.

"Maybe he will take your hits, instead," Nero counters, a wicked grin on his face.

Jed struggles, twisting and squirming against the men holding him back. He manages to get a hand on one of their sword-belts and it's enough to grab a hilt. He pulls the sword free and swings it expertly, glad that Octavius trained him with them just as he trained Octavius with his guns. He fells his two captors in three hits and rushes forward once again. This time he bypasses Octavius, as much as it pains him to do so, and jumps the distance between this raised platform and Nero's. His landing there forces two of the four Generals off of the small platform and he ignores the remaining ones, instead pressing the sword to Nero's neck.

"Ya touch him again and I slit your throat."

Nero doesn't look terribly concerned by his threat, though he does seem impressed. "You do that and my men will do the same to him. You cannot win."

There are swords on him now, too, which effectively relays the message that any move to end the Emperor will be his last. A glance over his shoulder, at the man with a blade held on Octavius' neck, says it'll be his end, too.

"I'll make you a deal," Nero says, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he nonchalantly pushes Jed's sword aside and stands. When he's sure he has Jed's full attention, he continues. "If you hit him, just once, I'll allow you to take his place."

He wants, more than anything, to say no. He'd never hurt Octavius. Despite the wars of their past - before Larry convinced them to be friends - there'd been fights, but even then, their roles in the battle kept them apart. He's never had to really hurt Octavius - hell, he sacrificed himself to Kahmunrah to make sure Octavius wasn't hurt. And now, when he's broken and nearly unconscious, bloody and bruised, he's not sure he can make himself do it.

"Yes, okay," he says, instead, because this needs to stop. Jed has no idea how many more hits Octavius has coming and the man with the whip hasn't shown him any kindness thus far. "You'll let him go? Ya promise?"

"He will be released as soon as you fulfill your end of the deal," Nero tells him, motioning him to return to the other platform. He does, quickly, and reluctantly accepts the bloody whip. The blade drops from Octavius' neck and he's left to slump, barely conscious of what's going on anymore.

Jed stares. It's the first chance he's had to really see the extent of the wounds the whip has left on his friend. His back is red and raw, bleeding considerably and yeah, that shoulder is not where it's supposed to be anymore. He glances from the weapon in his hand to Octavius' back and fights to ignore the rolling of his stomach when he thinks about what he has to do. Should he aim for something that hasn't been hit yet, even though that will maybe hurt less, but leave more marks to take care of? Or should he stay on top of the other wounds? Maybe he could get away with less of a hit that way.

"Now!" Nero demands, impatient even as he watches Jed's every move closely.

"'M sorry 'bout this, 'Tavius," he says, even though he's sure his friend can't hear him.

He takes a deep breath, chokes on the scent of blood that's everywhere up here, and looks up and pointedly not at Octavius. He swings, and the tails of the whip come down on unmarred skin, tearing fresh gashes along his ribs. Jed drops the thing like it's on fire, reaches out to comfort in place of the pain he's just caused. "I'm sorry, he says, "'m sorry." He braces himself at Octavius' side, taking some of the weight off his arms. "Let him down. Now!"

Nero laughs at him, but nods to the man who'd done the rest of the damage. "We had a deal," he says.

Someone pulls Jed back, away from Octavius while he's freed from the chains. Instead of easing him down, they just let him drop to the ground. He'd already been passed out, but landing on his back stirs him long enough for another hoarse scream before the fresh pain takes him back under.

"Octavius," he calls, desperately. This was not what he'd been hoping for. "Octavius, c'mon."

He spins to face Nero again. "I did what ya wanted, now send him over to the West. My guys'll patch him up best they can."

"Ha," Nero snorts, amused. "I said you could take his place. Not that I would let him go."

Jed starts to protest - rather, shout a combination of colorful curses and distasteful insults at the powerful man who is presently wielding immutable power over both he and Octavius - but he is cut off quickly. On Nero's order, he's divested of his remaining weapons, which is not surprising. Surprising they hadn't done that sooner, really. But then the man with the whip enlists two others in ridding him of his vest and shirt, leaving him stripped from the waist up as Octavius had been. They do leave him his bandana.

"Ya no good lyin' coward! Yer as crooked as a dog's hind legs! Ya oughta-"

Then they take his hat.

He's fuming then, which is ridiculous because he was already furious with what they'd done - what they'd made him do - to Octavius. Something so trivial as a hat shouldn't anger him so much, but it does. He spits every insult, every curse he knows at them, watches Nero laugh and laugh at him as the men ignore him, wrangle him forward past the crumbled form of Octavius, and to the post. His wrists are chained over his head and just like that, he's taken Octavius' place.

"You lot don't know what yer doin'," Jed tries, fingers curling and uncurling against the chains. "When Gigantor finds out about this, you'll..."

They don't seem to care, though, because the first blow comes with no warning. He feels the blood flow before he feels the pain, but once it starts, it's constant. Burning all along the array of wounds one strike leaves down the center of his back.

He resolutely keeps his mouth shut for the next two hits, glaring daggers at Nero. The Emperor is still watching him closely, perhaps closer than before, Jed thinks. It makes him uncomfortable, being watched so closely.

The sound of approaching footsteps - Gigantor footsteps - gives Jed a fleeting moment of hope that's abruptly squashed when he and Octavius are hurriedly relocated into one of the nearby buildings where their would-be rescuer won't see them.

Maybe Larry will see the blood? The whipping post? Maybe he'll realize that something is wrong and demand answers. It's all that Jed can hope for.

Larry's voice is its usual booming tone, Jed can hear him asking after he and Octavius. He doesn't hear whatever response comes to the inquiry, but it doesn't seem to be alarming him into searching the diorama to find them. Another voice comes - Nick's, Jed thinks - and then the footsteps are retreating.

"Hey!" He shouts, even though he doesn't think he'll be heard, "Gigantor! Larry! Help!"

Not only does it not draw Larry's attention, it angers the soldiers who'd dragged him away. One of them wastes no time in bashing him over the head to shut him up and the blow, unfortunately knocks him out cold, leaving him no way to protect either himself or Octavius from whatever Nero has planned for them next.

Chapter 2 -->