Disclaimer: Bill the Butcher and Amsterdam Vallon don't belong to me.
Summary: Amsterdam gets tenderized.
Notes: This is [livejournal.com profile] collie's doing, whether she knows it or not.
Word Count: 198
Amsterdam flinched as Bill brought his head down, slamming their foreheads together.
He could taste the blood in his mouth, he could feel it all over his face. He didn't know how much of it was his and how much of it belonged to Bill.
He could hear the crowd shouting, cheering, jeering, spitting - but he was unable to discern one voice from the others. It all ran together in his ears, waves and waves of sound distorted by the
of Bill's skull against his own. He could feel the weight of the Butcher on top of him, and he knew that he was simply fresh meat for the experienced cleaver. He waited for another skull-cracking blow, but none came. Instead Bill took up a blade - the one Amsterdam had flung at him, the one that had killed Vallon so many years before - and heated it, white-hot coals under a blade mottled with a mixture of old and new blood.
Bill brought the knife down on his face, burning a point across his cheek. As he was tossed aside like scrap meat for the dogs, Amsterdam vowed never to find himself under the Butcher again.