"I want those suppressants again," was all he said because everything else about the bond and how little sense it made was news to him. He hadn't been in one until a few months ago, and this was the closest and most cordial they had been to one another. The bond was also digging at him more, warming him and giving him the false notion that he was safe and could let his guard down.
That was a lie. He was in the hands of the enemy being taken to only HYDRA knew where to be pulled apart bit-by-bit. It didn't stop him from shifting his arm deeper under the jacket he was using for a pillow and grip Wilson's wrist, his thumb passing over the scent gland for the remainder of their trip as he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He was no where close to it as much as he knew he needed it.
He didn't know how long they spent in the van, but his eyes snapped open when it stopped. He pushed himself up and allowed himself to be drawn away to a SHIELD facility, one that he knew only from the books and little else. It was a medical center, and he suspected it now doubled as a prison and a military outpost to launch missions from. Of course, he would only see two ends of that, and he glanced back only once to Wilson as they were separated in the hallway. It was a lingering glance.
He was stripped down, given an opportunity to bathe under supervision, do his teeth, brush his hair and shave what little hair he had managed to grow on his face. Then the tests started, blood tests first (how the hell did they need that much?), questions about his project at the facility. He was read his rights around that time, impressing upon him that he had no other option but to cooperate and the only way that he was going to get the one thing that he wanted (suppressants) was to at least give them everything on what had happened to him in the Hive.
When he resisted, he was taken to a prison cell that doubled as a ward room. He was hooked up to an intravenous fluid drip to replenish his fluids and a bland meal that looked like something they would feed the asset. He picked at it, mostly because he was distracted by the bond that linked him with Wilson.
He didn't like being separated. He gritted his teeth, insisting to himself that it was an 'omega' thing and once he had the pills, he'd be just fine again. Ah yes, his blood results were back hours later. His hormones were all over the place, and not just from post-heat either: he was showing long term signs of deprivation. He was also malnourished, dehydrated but enviously functional like any good twenty-five year old. That he expected and still didn't answer their questions about how he was what he was. They'd take more samples soon enough he knew, once the tubes of blood already taken led to no real results.
He sighed and picked at the edge of the tape holding his catheter in his vein, ignoring the pull to reach out or call out for Wilson. Just an omega thing. No big deal; he'd handled it before. You know, when he was like seventeen.
no subject
That was a lie. He was in the hands of the enemy being taken to only HYDRA knew where to be pulled apart bit-by-bit. It didn't stop him from shifting his arm deeper under the jacket he was using for a pillow and grip Wilson's wrist, his thumb passing over the scent gland for the remainder of their trip as he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He was no where close to it as much as he knew he needed it.
He didn't know how long they spent in the van, but his eyes snapped open when it stopped. He pushed himself up and allowed himself to be drawn away to a SHIELD facility, one that he knew only from the books and little else. It was a medical center, and he suspected it now doubled as a prison and a military outpost to launch missions from. Of course, he would only see two ends of that, and he glanced back only once to Wilson as they were separated in the hallway. It was a lingering glance.
He was stripped down, given an opportunity to bathe under supervision, do his teeth, brush his hair and shave what little hair he had managed to grow on his face. Then the tests started, blood tests first (how the hell did they need that much?), questions about his project at the facility. He was read his rights around that time, impressing upon him that he had no other option but to cooperate and the only way that he was going to get the one thing that he wanted (suppressants) was to at least give them everything on what had happened to him in the Hive.
When he resisted, he was taken to a prison cell that doubled as a ward room. He was hooked up to an intravenous fluid drip to replenish his fluids and a bland meal that looked like something they would feed the asset. He picked at it, mostly because he was distracted by the bond that linked him with Wilson.
He didn't like being separated. He gritted his teeth, insisting to himself that it was an 'omega' thing and once he had the pills, he'd be just fine again. Ah yes, his blood results were back hours later. His hormones were all over the place, and not just from post-heat either: he was showing long term signs of deprivation. He was also malnourished, dehydrated but enviously functional like any good twenty-five year old. That he expected and still didn't answer their questions about how he was what he was. They'd take more samples soon enough he knew, once the tubes of blood already taken led to no real results.
He sighed and picked at the edge of the tape holding his catheter in his vein, ignoring the pull to reach out or call out for Wilson. Just an omega thing. No big deal; he'd handled it before. You know, when he was like seventeen.