Chapter Text
This…has been going on for hours now…
“Vitals?”, a voice spoke to his left spoke, barely able to pierce through the roar of the blood that rushed through his ears, the form of a man clasped in white and a gas mask stepping into the view of his blurry vision.
“Stable.”, came the answer from the right, causing his head to turn. He met the figure of a person that looked almost exactly like the other, the only difference being that his iris was blue instead of brown. “Synaptic test on.”
How many times do I have to repeat this?
The first scientist gave a curt nod, his gloved hand reaching for the restrains of his left fist, the rubber of his glove brushing against his skin as he ensured that they were entirely secure. Once he affirmed that they were, he took a step back, allowing a third person to step forward and take his place at Kyle’s side, wheeling a machine towards the metallic table he was bound to. One he did not know the name of yet was more familiar with than with the structure of his own face.
How many times do I still have to endure?
“This…is going to be quite uncomfortable.”, he spoke lowly as he stopped himself as well as the device a few inches away from him, his dark eyes meeting Crane’s momentarily before he, too, turned his attention to his scarred paw of a hand. Carefully, he forced his clenched muscles to relax and slid it upwards just enough to gain access to a patch of skin with punctures and healed scratches, turning the area over so it would face him directly.
You don’t say…
“Just…try to clench your teeth. It helps.”, he was advised, though he was left no room to reply as only a second later, he felt the sharp twinge of a needle pierce through his skin, hooking him up to this large, bulky thing that, by now, he had seen more often than his own toes. He jerked reflexively, his instincts screaming, the urge to punch this dude overwhelming. However, no matter how much he fought, how much he strained, he was forced to stay put, the cuffs keeping him strapped to this table, forcing him to remain where he was with little room to move to his own will.
Like a dog chained to a hut. Like a rat kept in a small cage.
Ah...how far the mighty have fallen.
Though, he supposed, it could be worse. Much, much worse.
“Alright! He’s hooked.”, the third scientist called out, waving the first and second over. “Everything’s secure. We can start now.”
“Then let’s get on with it. We’ve already wasted enough time.”, the first responded, and from the corner of his eye, Kyle could see him adjusting his mask. “We’re already off schedule thanks to that moron that fucked up the machine this morning."
“Cut the kid some slack. He’s new.”, the third spoke once more, jumping to the mysterious and apparently rather incompetent stranger's defense. That earned him a displeased grunt, paired with an annoyed sigh and a roll of eyes. What a bastard.
“Guys, focus.”, the second one, the blue-eyed man, barked, interrupting their mild confrontation that would have most likely developed into a fully fledged argument if left to its own devices. “Peter’s right. We should start now. We've already wasted enough time with the fiasco this morning and...uh...the Boss wants results.”
Boss.
Ah yes, the boss.
That posh bastard.
Always lurking in the background, always lingering in everyone’s mind. Those who knew his name shuddered in terror. Those who knew his history did not even dare to do that.
A man that was practically the embodiment of brilliance, though sadly, his intelligence equaled his cruelty in every sense of the word.
Something that would have bothered Kyle 13 years ago, back when he had still naively believed in the good in humanity. Now…he could not care less.
Now, he cursed himself for ever thinking otherwise. Especially after what had happened with those he loved and cared about. After what they had done to him...
Treacherous assholes!
He hated them! He hated them with every fiber of his being...
He loathed them to the bottom of his heart for their shameful betrayal. Especially after everything he had done for them, after every bullet and blade he had taken head on just to save their lives. Only for them to repay him with violence, hatred and rejection, the former involving almost putting a bullet through his head from their own guns.
An assassination attempt, though failed. Luckiest day of his entire life, and the day he had decided to leave them behind to rot in the bed of their own making. He only hoped that their skin had wasted away by now.
Though I feel sorry for the soil that had to absorb you...
Hero of Harran his ass!
He was suddenly torn from his thoughts when the first scientist turned on his heel and walked over to a control panel, punching in a code Crane did not bother to memorize. His blurry vision wavered further as he directed his eyes upwards and towards the enormous, spider-like contraption that hung from the ceiling, looming over them all, massive in size. He saw how small, red lights flickering to life, the enormous limps of steel whirring loudly as the entire machine was lowered towards him, two sharp needles filled to the brims with chemicals which’s names he could not even pronounce and two twins equal in size that were empty, meant to take samples, gleaming in the sterile glow of the lamps surrounding them.
And then, one of the latter pierced him directly into an old scar on his right rib, tearing through his flesh with frightening ease. A trickle of blood poured from the reopened wound, sliding down the broad build of his chest and the hardness of his stomach before eventually soaking through the fabric of the lose pants that he always wore during these procedures. Though Kyle barely felt any of this, far too distracted by the sensation of fluid being extracted from his bloodstream, feeling it getting sucked from his body and coaxing a violent reaction that send tremendous pain throughout his entire nervous system, causing him to cry out and jerk violently once more.
It never gets better. It always hurts…
“Holy shit…”, the third scientist muttered, though he was immediately shushed by the second who, along with the first turned his attention towards the screen, the glass of the gasmask reflecting the it poorly for Crane to see as they read over whatever values they was shown. After spending a few seconds assessing them, the former looked pleased, his eyes sparkling as he straightened his back. “Looks good!”
For you maybe. For me, this is fucking hell…
Kyle groaned low in his throat, his eyelids fluttering as he briefly guided his gaze towards the ceiling, his heart pounding in his chest so intensely it felt as if it was bruising him from within. Fuck…this was painful. He felt like vomiting, the taste of bile strong on his tongue, but nothing came up, leaving only the overbearing sensation that paired with the unbearable agony.
He wanted to scream, but he bit his lips not to do so. He had long-learned screaming was a horrible idea. Especially if his well-being depended on men and women who were handling the delicate line between life and death.
“Then let’s let him sit for a few minutes. His system needs to settle a little before we can add the serum.”, the third hummed, stepping away. “Someone wipe him up in the meantime.”
“I’ll do it.”, third volunteered, grabbing a clean rag that they had laying on a table. He soaked it in something Kyle hoped was water, wringing it out before approaching him with timid steps. “This is gonna be a bit cold, buddy.”, he warned, carefully wiping it over his flesh.
I’ve been through worse.
He wanted to desperately reply with these words, with his voice, but his vocal cords failed him miserably. They nearly always did during these tests. They wrung so much strength from his body even breathing felt like an undoable task. Thankfully, however, until now, he had never stopped in- and exhaling during procedures. Despite the sensations that felt as if he was crumbling into bloody pieces of meat, his body was always going strong, always persisting. Even in tests meant to weaken him to the point of unconsciousness, it fought with all it had.
It was…horrible. But also, astonishing. Favorable is also another word that had been used to describe it in the past, though of course, there was only one man who could think of using such word for physical agony.
His Master. The Baron. Dr. Marius Fischer.
The man behind it all. And coincidentally, the man who had also just arrived in person.
Speaking of the Devil.
Kyle, in spite of the roar of blood rushing through his veins nearly deafening him, heard a set of doors slide open, the colder air of the corridor briefly brushing over his naked skin as it rushed into the chambers alongside the figure that stepped over the threshold. Slow footsteps followed, a tall, lean form carrying itself into the enormous room with its posture perfectly straight and chest pushed outwards, thin arms folded behind a lean back, skeletal hands carefully folded into each other with long fingers intertwined.
“Status report. Now.”
The voice that barked this order was low, smooth, elegant, capable of simultaneously being a balm for nerves and a knife for the soul. Kyle felt its sound slide over his brain like a salve, briefly allowing him to forget about the unbearable agony as it brought his attention towards its owner. His eyes dilated in response to emotions he himself had difficulty to place – though if he would dare guess he would describe it a mixture of sick, twisted joy and relief –, his breath shuddering momentarily as he, after a brief search of the room, finally came face to face with whom he had learned was the physical embodiment of scientific intelligence.
A man that may as well be the devil in disguise. A noble monstrosity as brilliant as he was arrogant, as dangerous as he was composed, with platin blonde hair brushed backwards meticulously with not a strand out of place, ice blue irises practically glowing with almost inhuman intellect behind the gasmask shielding the majority of his facial features. The only visible anomaly was a scar underneath his left eye, elegantly curving upwards before breaking off, continuing on his forehead where it eventually merged with his beautiful locks.
Dr. Marius Fischer. The Baron of Castor Woods himself.
You’re here.
Crane found himself opening his lips, wanting to speak. He tried to reach out, his arms trembling, his instincts flaring and telling to feel, to touch as he fought against the restraints. However, neither attempt was successful, his body still being held back by the steel-rings that kept him chained to the table while his throat failed him in every possible way, leaving him to splutter and cough instead of forming even a single coherent word.
You kept your promise.
The second scientist turned away from the monitor, the small part of his visible facial expressions unreadable as he came to face to face with the mastermind behind it all. His chest fluttered momentarily – a clear sign that he was nervous, Kyle had learned –, his lungs inflating in an inhale required to form his answer, his voice mostly steady yet still vibrating with a faint tremor as he spoke. “Extraction complete, sir.”, he reported, his gaze following every smooth movement of the dangerous presence before it finally stilled abruptly, coming to a halt directly next to them. “We’re just about to administer the serum into Subject Alpha.”
An arm-reach away for everyone, yet close enough to feel his warmth.
And yet always so distant.
Kyle hated it.
The Baron hummed lowly in the back of his throat in understanding, the sound barely loud enough to be audible. The American pressed his eyelids together, hoping to force his vision to sharpen so he could properly see him before fluttering them back open. It was then that their gazes met, blue with mismatched. Ice colliding with warmth and death.
Kyle coughed once more, blood pouring from his lips, his shoulders twisting as he adjusted himself, his gaze burning with emotions like an open book. He hid nothing, refused to. He wanted the other man to see, to know. Maybe even get something in return.
But no, there was nothing. Only that sterile blue. That strict discipline that came with walls that were so thick that even a bomb detonating directly next to them could not break through them. Fuck…
You’re one cold bastard, you know that?
Of course, he didn’t speak those words out loud. Wouldn’t even if he could.
In public, this insolence would be his end. Especially if it was his people who witnessed it.
“I’ll do that myself.”, the nobleman suddenly announced, tearing his intense gaze away from his test subject and towards his employee, holding out his hand in a slow, guided movement. Not questioned, he was handed the tool almost immediately, no soul daring to object.
Then, he stepped closer, his scent wafting over the chained beast almost immediately. Kyle found himself shuddering, though it was far from disgust. The urge to reach out only intensified, his muscles quivering with the desire to feel that soft fabric of expensive clothing, the fragile flesh of skin.
And when his wish was granted – though not quite as he had hoped for – he nearly sobbed in relief.
The Baron reached out, delicate fingers wrapping around the shape of Kyle’s strong jaw in a way that he would almost dare to call gentle, a warm balm pressing against the underside of his chin in a sick form of comfort. His gaze was guided alongside the now approaching body, his neck straining as he looked up at the form towering over him, the background blurring into irrelevance as his senses focused on the only thing that was important.
Him.
Marius...
His savior. His master. The one who pulled him from a pit deeper than the Kola Superdeep Borehole.
But also…his tormentor.
The needle pierced his skin so suddenly he jerked, his lips parting in a low gasp of pain. Instinctively, he wanted to slap at it, to swat that horrid thing away from him, to remove it from the situation entirely. However, before his ruined mind could twist and curl itself into rage, he felt the delicate touch move, warm fingertips tracing his scarred cheek with a gentleness that seemed out of place in this cold, disciplined environment.
He felt a chocking sob bubble in the back of his throat as the Baron’s caress moved deeper to carefully slide along his throat, resting at his pulse for a brief moment before shifting to pat at the curve of his jaw. A reward, he realized. Or comfort?
He wasn’t sure. It was always hard to tell with this man. He often caused lines to blur, made the former Hero of Harran unsure what was what. Then again, he doubt it mattered.
Not here, and definitely not now. Not in this laboratory. And not in his presence.
A whimper tore from him when the human embodiment cruel brilliance pulled away, the warmth of his touch fading away as he stepped backwards, putting himself at a safe distance while his arm stretched towards the scientists, handing the instrument back to one of them while his stare still burned into him as if it could scorch his flesh.
Don’t stop. Please…
Crane wanted to yell out loud, but instead, he grunted. He grunted and croaked when searing hot agony suddenly roared through his veins, when his entire body flared to life as if it had been set on fire from within.
Please!!
His muscles convulsed involuntarily, his frame trembling so violently the entire table shook alongside him, his wrist continuously pressing into the soft cushion the insides of his restraints were covered in to ensure no accidental wounds could form in such a vital area. Unable to hold it still any longer, Kyle’s head began to twist around, his neck cracking obscenely with the rapid, uncontrollable movements, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
“P-please…it-it hurts…i-it fucking hurts…”
The voice, his own he realized far too late, was barely more than a meek whine, much like a dog who had just twinged its tail in the door. He wasn’t sure if it was even audible to anyone but himself, given part of his words were drowned in saliva and blood that continued to pour from his lips, soiling his chin, naked chest and stomach, rendering the cleanup he had received before useless.
“He’s delirious.”, he heard the Baron observe with a low purr, his tone almost mocking, though clearly amused.
FUCK!!
Kyle’s skull fell backwards before he could stop it, his face now facing the ceiling, coming to face to face with the machine, the circle covered in circular lamps, the vents expelling gas…
God…this is painful…
“He’s running a fever!”, one of the scientists noted aloud, his fingers typing over the keyboard with impressive speed.
“It’s remarkable.”, came the nobleman’s response, and even through his haze, Kyle could hear the smile in his voice. He’d give everything to see it… “His body keeps trying to fight it.”
I’m sorry.
With yet another whimper – one that sounded considerably more pathetic than the former – the American accumulated every bit of strength he had left and forced his neck-muscles to comply, allowing him to lean forward, his eyelids quivering as he sought the form of the pale-haired monster. He found that he had moved to the side a little, his hands clasped behind his back once more, the delicate digits now not only out of reach, but also out of sight. Then there was also that stupid gasmask was covering his face, his beautiful features.
God, Kyle wanted it gone. Even more so when those beautiful eyes wrinkled in the corners. The smile, he realized, had widened.
“Ah, he’s still awake.”, the aristocrat hummed, taking a step closer. “Rise and shine, Kyle. How are you feeling?”
Like absolute shit…
Or at least…that was what he wanted to say. Yet, as he strained, only one word managed to emerge, so low it may as well have been just a sob.
“H-hurts…”
It was pathetic…really. Even in his own ears.
“Not surprising after all we’ve put you through.”, the blonde responded, the leather of his elegant shoes clicking against the cold tiles of the floor. “Though I must say you’re doing well. Not quite the results I have hoped for, but an impressive improvement when compared to the last procedure.”
The former Hero of Harran opened his mouth to laugh, though he coughed instead, blood splattering from his lips. He did, however, manage to twist his face into an expression that was a grin, his chest fluttering with joy despite the pain.
I’m not disappointing him.
“I am pleased.”
He is fucking pleased!!
Having said what he wanted, the Baron turned away from him once more, directing his beautiful, icy gaze that rivaled Russia’s Winter in coldness back towards the group of scientists where two were staring at the same screen while the third held a tablet in his hands, one glove off to type properly.
“Initiate the next procedure.”, he demanded, tilting his head towards Kyle so quickly he almost missed the movement entirely. “Do not shorten the intervals between injections this time. Take a close look at the vitals. I want to see if the experiments from yesterday have a residual influence on the outcome.”
The blue-eyed scientist nodded, saluting while he was at it. “Understood sir.”, he affirmed vocally as well. “We shall notify you of any development.”
“Good. I will be off then.”, the brilliant monstrosity informed, shifting his upper body to adjust his posture. His shoulders, so thin beneath the expensive fabric of grey, cracked audibly, causing Kyle as well as the men to flinch. Good god… “Inform me in case of any outstanding anomalies. If there is any extraordinary situation, I want to take a look at it myself.”
"Yessir.” Again.
The Baron gave a pleased hum. Then, he turned, ready to leave.
No…
He took a step towards the door.
Don’t go!
Ready to give his whole attention to something – someone – else.
Marius please!
The thought alone was unbearable.
Stay!
“D-don’t…”
The word was louder than he had meant it to be, blood pouring over his chin as he forced it out with all his might. It caused the brilliant scientist to stop in his tracks, the entirety of his body freezing as if it had been turned into stone.
Icy blue eyes, flashing with surprise, blinked, their owner momentarily stunned. He turned slowly, his ash grey coat rustling softly as once again, his gaze was guided towards Kyle. For a moment, the trembling man feared an outburst, something deep within his mind, buried in a dark corner, telling him that he messed up, that he had overstepped.
But no. Nothing of that nature occurred. Instead, the cheeks twitched as thin lips hidden beneath black plastic once again stretched into a smile, his visible features sparkling with something that was akin to amusement. Then, he moved, the leather of his shoes gleaming as he, once again, approached his precious creature.
His very own beast.
Kyle shuddered violently as that slim, yet strong arm unfolded from behind the nobleman’s back, a thin hand brushing against his face again, long, delicate fingers sliding over his cheeks in yet another gentle caress. The former Hero of Harran nearly choked on his own breath as they glid further and into his hair, the warm, soft palm now resting just below his left eye. His nose twitched as he leaned to press into it, his sense of smell pushing through the searing agony still pulsing within his veins just to take in the clean, sterile scent of digits that were capable of so much death and pain.
Please stay.
The Baron exhaled through his nostrils, the sound exaggerated by his gasmask. “Don’t worry.”, he uttered, his voice so low it may as well have been an animalistic growl, those beautiful irises flashing with a glint that Kyle, despite it being familiar, could not place no matter how often he saw it. “It will be over soon, my darling.”
Darling…
“Be good for me for an hour longer.”, the blonde continued, his thumb brushing just beside Kyle’s lip, smearing some blood across sweat-slickened skin. “It would make me proud.”
Proud…
Crane coughed, his chest heaving as he tried, and failed, to steady his breath. His wrist had begun to ache with how intensely he was pressing them against the restraints now, his nails squealing as he dug them into the steel of the table he had been strapped to.
I want to make you proud.
The Baron did not even flinch at the sound. He merely held his gaze, allowing ice to meet wild blue and warm brown, keeping him locked in a trance that seemed absurdly calm despite the broader man’s body twisting and turning with uncontrollable convulsions. It was as if their minds were in an entirely different world. As if all of what was happening around them did not exist.
It was bizarre. It was addicting. Kyle loved it when he did this.
I will make you proud.
“Y-yes…”, he croaked, his words followed by a sound that was hard to discern. Maybe it was a gasp, maybe a sob.
However, these were details the blonde did not seem to care about. Instead of commenting on it, his visible facial expression changed, his brows furrowing, his cheeks puffing, fine lines appearing where none have been before, though the right side was slightly engorged due to the healing black eye that had the delicate flesh mildly swollen and discolored for a while now. Instantaneously, Kyle recognized this expression as a broad grin.
The grin of a monster. Of a madman. He knew that. And yet, it made his heart sore, his chest aching not only with the aftermath of the serum, but also the joy to be the one who had further satisfied his master with his obedience.
It was wrong. It should be sickening. And yet, it was not. Far from it, even.
I will not disappoint you.
The Baron finally pulled away, ignoring the pathetic moan that escape Kyle’s throat as he pressed his pointer finger against the middle filter of his mask, allowing it to rest there for several moments before guiding it back, pressing it to his lips. It took Kyle a few seconds to realize that this was an altered version of a kiss, a gesture of affection improvised so its execution is adapted to their current situation.
A not-so-subtle sign of affection, yet one among those he craved the most.
You can count on me.
“Good boy…”, was the last, low rumble the last Fischer purred his way, allowing the fingertip to glide down his chin and tap it before parting from him fully, wiping whatever liquid had accumulated on his porcelain skin on the soft fabric of his coat to rid himself off the wet sensation and fold his hand back over the one that had remained in place. His soles clicked against the floor as he took several steps back, keeping their gazes locked for a few moments longer before finally turning on his heels, the ash-grey cloth that was draped over the black jumper fluttering as he rushed towards the door with large, elegant stripes that would put a king to shame.
And then, he crossed the threshold, the automatic halves remaining open just long enough for his leg to slide from between them before the guard stationed outside pressed a button, allowing the electronic mechanism to spring to life and slide them closed, cutting him as well as the three scientists that had kept to themselves during the interaction between their leader and his beast, carefully monitoring the development of his vitals.
He was gone. And Kyle’s heart ached. His mind, however, burned.
After all, his master had asked him to be good, to endure, and he would not defy. Not after everything this man had done for him.
So, he would obey. He would push through the pain of loneliness, the agony of his absence to do as he demanded. After all, as the Baron always said, Obedience Breeds Rewards. And these rewards were exactly what he was after.
I will be good for you.
“Alright. We can inject the first one.”, the first scientist eventually spoke again, stepping forward with a syringe. “Elias, keep an eye on his vitals. Let’s see if yesterday’s work bears any fruit.”
“Eyes locked!”, the second scientist confirmed, lifting one latex-covered thumb to point it upright in a gesture of understanding. The third was next to him, though he stayed silent. “Inject it.”
Just be good to me afterwards.
A nod was the response to that, and seconds later, the man in white leaned over his figure, his blue eyes meeting his. “Sorry, this is going to hurt, buddy.”, he muttered lowly, moving his arm just outside of Crane’s view. “Brace yourself.”
That was our deal.
And he did as best as he could, though he still shuddered as he felt the needle press against him. Mild pressure caused it to break through his skin with little difficulty. Seconds later, he felt the horrid sensation of liquid being added to his bloodstream, its icy temperature clashing with the warmth of his own blood and the heat his body pulsed with due to his fever.
And then, the pain came.
So much pain…and so, so much worse than before.
Kyle opened his mouth in a scream that was unlike any he had ever released, his vocal cords spasming with the sudden overuse, his body seizing so violently one of the restraints nearly opened on its own. The ear-shattering sound echoed through the room, off the walls and causing the scientists to flinch into themselves, one of them instinctively grabbing onto sharp objects to defend himself shall he become aggressive and somehow break free from his cuffs.
However, that was something the Hero of Harran no longer saw, for his vision began to blur, and his mind started to slip. Where there had once been thoughts, there was only agony. Where there had once been memories, there was only black.
He felt himself slip away, fall into a darkness that he did not know when he would emerge from.
But he hoped that it would be soon. If not only to finally get out of here…it was to see him again.
His Baron. His Master.
My Marius.
The man who had saved his life in more ways than one.