Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

As Kyle’s mind gradually returned to the world of the conscious, one of the very first sensations his weakened senses were able to detect was that his body was laid upon as well as surrounded by incredibly soft material.

A small groan of confusion paired with residue pain that flared in his muscles escaped his lips as his nerves slowly rose from their slumber as well, his brow furrowing and his fingers curling into whatever surface he had been placed upon as if holding on for dear life. The former Hero of Harran felt his nails tear into the textile and create small holes in it while his eyes began to flutter open bit by bit. However, the vision he was granted with was far too blurry to make out anything beyond the color white and grey the ceiling above him had been painted in during its creation. That, paired with the unbearable brightness of a light source he could not find caused him to reverse his last step of progress almost immediately, pressing his lids back together and instinctually turning onto his side, burrowing his face into what he could only assume was a pillow.

“S-shit…”

His voice, though muffled, was low and hoarse, its raspiness comparable to a cheese grater and painful in its use. His throat felt as dry as a desert, as if all fluid had evaporated in the period in which he had not been present aside from his physical form, and he could not suppress the small wince that bubbled in the back of it, his hand gliding upwards to wrap his fingers around his neck in an attempt to soothe the ache.

Though, of course, it was fruitless. All it did was make him aware of the horrific stiffness of his right shoulder that protested against this movement, sending shockwaves of hot agony through its structure and down his back.

“Oh! F-fuck!!”, he snarled with his lips pulled back, exposing his teeth. His body convulsed violently before involuntarily curling in on itself in response, his face twisting into an expression of unbearable anguish. Good god, this fucking hurt. He felt as if he had been taken apart and put back together, though instead of stitches that could fixate his flesh properly, someone accidentally used half-dried superglue that had been left sitting in the open for a few hours. “W-what the fuck…h-happened to m-e…”

What the fuck have I done?

“You got your ass handed back to you. That’s what happened.”

WHAT THE…?!

The strongly distorted reply coming from a male voice that was impossible to recognize came so suddenly Kyle’s thundering heart momentarily stopped beating entirely, dropping into his pants and out of his ass. In an instinctual fight-or-flight response – though ever since the unwilling ingestion of the vile serum this sentient volatile witch had forced him to consume, he was now prone to the former - the human/volatile hybrid hurled himself upright with a guttural growl, his eyes snapping open and widening to such an extend his eyeballs nearly fell out of his skull, his jaws parted in a loud, gurgling gasp mixed with a guttural roar. Given that his sight was no better than a mole’s still, he could not immediately make out the source of where the words had come from, leaving him to turn his head in frantic jerks searching for a figure that may or may not be human. His form shifted awkwardly on the sheets, his body trying to will itself to attack the potential threat coming from the presence that had dared to approach him in such a vulnerable state, muscles tensing in a weak attempt to seem threatening, though veins bulged in strain and ached from this action alone.

He was in no condition to do anything but blindly swat at danger, let alone fight.

And whoever was here with him seemed to be entirely aware of that as well, the soles of military boots clicking against the ground in a slow, unhurried pace as this man casually strolled closer, the black and blurred silhouette gradually filling Kyle’s vision as he came within arm’s length.

Allowing his instincts to get the better out of him in this possibly detrimental situation, the haze-minded American attempted to surge forward, his arms flailing as he made an effort to wrap his fingers around the person’s neck to either choke or snap the bone. However, due to his horrendously sloppy coordination paired with his poor eyesight, he failed miserably, barely managing to bring his elbow past his ribs before he was unceremoniously grabbed by a pair of strong hands. One of them pinned his wrists together with a tight, trained hold while the other pushed against his breastbone with measured strength, forcefully guiding his upper body back down. His head hit the pillow with a low, pained grunt, his chin snapping upwards in response to the horrific ache that seemed to split his skull in two.

Fuck…

The one above him, however, seemed to care little for his agony, unseen eyes rolling with a mixture of annoyance and amusement as if he had witnessed these kinds of scenarios far too many times to be truly bothered by such an attack.

“Stay down, buddy.”, the stranger responded to his attempt, adjusting his stance so he could hold onto Kyle to keep him restrained properly. Even when in this weakened state, the beastly man put up one hell of a fight – a futile one, but a fight, nonetheless – his survival instinct pumping adrenaline through his veins and making him move erratically. “I don’t want to you to puke your guts out. I’m covered in enough fluids as it is.”

Kyle let out a series of wet, guttural grunts, bubbles of spit pouring as he jerked violently, hoping to set himself free in order to attack again. He did briefly manage to tear his left wrist from the hold, getting a good grip on the skull and digging his bloodied nails into the hair and skin there in the hopes of causing injury. Though much to his dismay, his efforts proved to be for naught as only a second later, the touch on his breastbone disappeared and strong fingers wrapped around the assaulting limp, the stranger hoisting himself half on top of him to pin him to the sheets with one knee while he now used both of his hands to force Kyle’s above his head, rendering him practically immobile entirely.

Shit! That bastard’s strong…

The former Hero of Harran parted his mouth in a scream of frustration, saliva and snot squirting from both his lips and nostrils as he refused to cease his struggling. His chest quivered with in- and exhales that were far too quick for his lungs to properly provide his blood with oxygen, causing him to feel increasingly lightheaded while his heart thundered against his ribcage with a force that bothered on painful.

But as the seconds passed, his energy began to fade, his jerky movements growing sluggish, his attempts to free himself weakening to the point of being mere twitches. Dark spots filled his vision as the adrenaline that had spiked only moments ago crashed in a spectacular way, leaving behind a sensation of fatigue that was even graver than the one he had experienced when he had awoken from the darkness that had held his mind hostage for who knows how long.

Eventually, he grew utterly still, the only sign of life being his shuddering gasps that wrecked his entire body and the misty gaze that was directed at nothing, the blackness fading in and out much like the light of an emergency lamp would. For a moment, all was silent, the majority of his senses momentarily shutting down once more in order to preserve the remaining energy to keep himself awake.

And then…he heard it.

The voice, the words. A choir he had been deaf towards in the blur of his instincts. A call that he had not been able to answer as it had never reached deep enough to be noticed.

His name was being shouted. Repeatedly.

“Kyle! Kyle! For fuck’s sake, Kyle!”

Again, and again and again. With increasing volume.

W-what the fuck…?

It was then that the walls of “too much” were finally fully breached, and his body reacted in the only remaining way it could. By vomiting.

Truth to the stranger’s warning from before – though Kyle could barely remember it – his stomach convulsed violently, and he felt the horrific sensation of bile being forced up his esophagus and pressing against his throat. Panicking, he attempted to swallow it back down with a whimper, his trembling hands curling into fists as he battled against the biological response of overwhelm with all his remaining might. However, just like before, he lost the fight miserably, a faint whimper escaping him when he eventually turned his head to the left – away from the person who was still pinning him down – and allowed the bile to push past its last point of resistance.

The retching sound was absolutely vile. Even more so when it was distorted.

Gagging and coughing, the former Hero of Harran poured everything he had had in his stomach onto the tiled floor below, the yellowish liquid splattering onto the smooth stone and accumulating into a puddle of a reeking mess. This happened thrice, with only mere splits of second in between for the poor, tortured beast of a man to breathe fresh air, leaving his lungs to burn as a torturous addition to his suffering while acidic liquid spewed from both his nose and mouth, increasing his agony by tenfold, if not even more.

When it was eventually over, he all but collapsed into himself with a gasp, shuddering as if his naked body had been thrown into ice water without prior preparation. His chest heaved as his respiratory system devoured the oxygen it finally had access to once more, supplementing his brain with much needed O2. That caused some of the dark spots of his vision to fade away, leaving him with a still blurry but much brighter image.

At the very least partially, given that the unknown man still hovered over him as a dark silhouette. Though now, with a closer inspection, he could make out pale flesh that shone through what Kyle was coherent enough to believe to be armor.

Or clothes. It really depended.

“Fuck, man…”, he heard the stranger utter, though half of his words were drowned out by the roar of his own blood. “They really fucked you over this time, eh? It isn’t like I didn’t say I told you so but…good god…” The part that Kyle could make out to be the head turned towards the residue of his most recent endeavors on the floor. “What a mess…”

The hybrid noisily wheezed an inhale in response, his lips twitching weakly as he attempted to form words to speak, though he was unsure whether he wanted to answer or ask something. Though, unsurprisingly, he could not get a word out, every effort to do so ending in a weak cough that forced remaining vomit onto his tongue. The vile taste brought forth another gag. Thankfully, however, he had nothing left to expel.

All of what he could possibly have given was currently spreading its disgusting stench all over the room.

Great…

Good job, Kyle. Way to fucking go…

Jesus Christ. He was truly pathetic, wasn’t he?

God…

Suddenly, the American felt the man above him shift, his shadow blurring with movement as he adjusted his weight. The posture leaned backwards, the knee that had pressed into his abdomen to pin him to something he was lucid enough to finally recognize as a mattress sliding down to his pelvis. The vice-like grip around his wrists began to loosen as well, gloved fingers gradually releasing them more and more until the pressure faded completely, leaving the prized Subject Alpha safe to assume that they had been let go entirely.

“Well, at least you didn’t get any of that shit on me! Let’s hope it stays that way.”, he heard the other chuckle, the sound of it genuinely amused. Then, he saw him reach for something, the metallic clink of a small object being picked up piercing through the thundering noise in his ear canal.

What the…?

Kyle did not have time to guess what it could possibly be, his attention pulled from his own thoughts almost immediately as the mysterious person continued.

“Had one of these bastards spew all over me when we restrained her this morning. Never felt so sick in my life during my job. And I’ve been doing it for 10 years!”, he complained, pulling whatever he had grasped into view. Due to the blurriness of the image his eyes sent to his brain, however, the former Hero of Harran failed to make out what it was.

Could be a knife. Could be a syringe.

Could be a dildo for all I know.

Whatever it was, though, the stranger fumbled with it as if he was a small child trying to figure out a toy made to increase the motor function of a young, developing body. It took him a staggering 30 seconds to get a proper hold, and when he eventually did manage, he moved in uncomfortably near, adjusting his limps so his upper body could lean over the beastly creature, one arm bracing himself while the other guided the glinting item towards his neck.

“Though I suppose getting covered in vomit is preferable to having my neck snapped like a twig, eh?” The murmur was too close to his right ear, causing Kyle to shiver in discomfort. God…he hated when people did this…especially when it was someone he didn’t know. The only person he could tolerate this from was his master. Heck, he even craved this with him. “Though, it’s not really your fault, I guess. You’re hardly yourself now.”

Yeah, no shit.

“So let’s fix this, eh?”

And with that, he felt a needle being jammed into his skin, easily piercing through every layer made to protect the inner working of his biological machinery before intruding into his veins. A low, startled groan of pain tore from the hybrid as he convulsed once in a weak attempt to fight it, though it was futile as seconds later, he felt the effect taking hold.

The rim of his vision suddenly turned as red as blood, veins bulging in such an obscene way that those residing within his eyeballs were actually registered by his sense of sight. Gradually, his ability to see began to fade, blackness sparking in the middle before steadily growing outwards, swallowing everything within its reach and plunging his world into pure darkness for several, gruesome moments.

For numerous, thundering heartbeats, he believed he had died. That whatever had been injected into him had finally breached the last bit of resistance his immune system had to offer, that this medication – whatever it was – had finished him off for good.

What a way to go…killed by meds.

That the former Hero of Harran fell not to an Infected or at the hands of an enemy, but to the failure of his own body.

Ironic…

And as such…his senses faded away. His life became silent. His awareness dissolved into nothingness. Everything was quiet. Fate had closed his book, having decided that his story had officially come to an end.

…

Except it hadn’t.

Wait…

For suddenly, everything…changed.

I’m not dead.

First, he became aware of sound again, the deafening rush having stopped entirely. His ears were able to register faint noises once more, including the soft beeping of a machine that stood directly next to the reeking puddle, rhythmically emitting a sound that left a faint echo in whatever chamber he was in, and the low rumble of his own breath that caused his chest to rise and fall in irregular intervals.

Is that…a heart monitor?

His muscles were the second to react, nerves tingling ominously as he felt himself regain some of the strength that had faded before, leaving them to throb uncomfortably underneath his skin. They were pulsating with renewed energy that finally gave him the strength to act once more. No longer did he feel bound by his own body, and while he, certainly, was horrendously weak still, he did not feel as if his limps been strapped to dumbbells that weighed as much as a damn horse.

He could move properly, like a living, breathing semi-human being, and not like a walking piece of rotten flesh that was rotting in the sweltering summer sun of Castor Woods’ summer.

Shit…my shoulder still hurts.

And then came his sense of sight, taking its place as the third.

It began slowly and as the exact opposite from before, with mere speckle of brightness forming in the center that steadily began to spread, piercing holes into the darkness that had covered his vision much like a blanket would. Piece by piece, he could make out the world around him more and more, outlines twisting and turning before eventually settling into what they were meant to be, distorted coloring separating to return to their designated surface to complete the picture in its entirety.

Ugh…this looks like a hospital. But that can’t be…

A low groan of confusion bubbled in the back of his throat, and he shifted as far as the weight of the man on top of him allowed him to. He blinked rapidly, his lids and lashes quivering violently as he did his best to adjust to the new perception of the environment he had gained. And then, he turned his attention to the shadow of a person that was still leaning over him with the majority of his upper body, irises trailing upwards in an attempt to finally capture the features of Unknown who had been with him from the very moment he had come back to the world of the living.

Who are you…?

The chin was sharp, connected to a strong jaw and high cheeks, every bit of pale skin covered in stubbles that suggested that the last shave had been around a week ago. Thin, pink lips aligned with a scarred crooked nose that had been broken more than once in its owner’s lifetime, leaving behind a noticeable bump that could only be corrected with surgery.

Wait…hold on…

The eyes, colored in a unique shade of jade, – though the right one was barely liable anymore, a deep mark carved over the lid and into the eyeball that rendered it nearly useless with the exception of the detection of light/dark – seemed slightly sunken into the depths of his skull due to dark rings that discolored the area underneath, topped by bushy eyebrows that had not seen proper maintenance in a long time. Above was a forehead that was a map of small wounds and slashes, one of them fresh enough to have only stopped bleeding mere hours ago. Maybe even less…

I-I know you…

All of this was enclosed by a generous hair-line hat sprouted dark brown locks. Soft curls that were long enough to reach the middle of a muscular neck yet kept in place with enough product to build a flame-thrower with, ending in a small ponytail that curled inward at the very end. A signature style. One that Kyle knew all too fucking well.

For he had seen it on this man for over 8 years. The entirety of which they had known each other.

You!!

“I-Iggy…?”

Despite whatever medication that he had been given, his voice was still nothing more than a low, raspy breath. His bone-dry mouth could barely properly form the word, the “g” accompanied by a sound that could be interpretated as a gag if it were not so weak. Yet at the mention of this ridiculous nickname, the face of the man above him split into a wide, shit-eating grin, pearly white teeth glistening in the bright light, a speck of gold shaped in the form of a fang where the right canine should have been.

Yep, that was indeed Iggy. Or Igor Viktor, as he was called in the  files and in official meetings. One of the countless men the Baron had hired as his soldiers, and one of Kyle’s best friends whom he had bonded quite closely with over a damn near decade.

Regrettably, though, he was also kind of infamous for being a sarcastic asshole with the worst type of humor one could find.

“Ahh! There he is!”, his friend barked with a laugh, his speech still deep and rumbling but not distorted by any means. Now, with his senses clear, could finally hear the slight Slavic accent within the man’s words, hinting at a heritage directed more towards the east. Where exactly, however, was still a mystery even after all these years. “Rise and shine, Crane! The sun’s been up for 10 hours. Not nice to sleep in and keep your mate waiting!”

Oh, shut the fuck up, Igor…

“Ugh…” the hybrid groaned low, the sound gurgling in the back of his throat where the bile had begun to dry, now clinging to his dehydrated mucous membrane. The taste that it brought with it was revolting, and his facial expression – as cramped as it was – mirrored that. “W-where am I? What the fuck happened…?”

Mr. Viktor’s grin widened, his tongue, scarred from a car accident several years back that had caused him to bite into the muscle in his earnest, flickering outwards to trace the sharp edges of his false pointed tooth. Hesitating deliberately, he leaned backwards, one of his thick, plated knees sliding from his crotch and onto his leg while regarding his friend with an infuriating glint in those dark irises.

“You’re in the mountain laboratory’s western wing. In the waking room, to be more specific.”, he replied with an amused tone in his voice, his other leg swinging over the edge of the bed to keep his balance. The leather of his boots groaned in protest as it was stretched to his limits, only his toes managing to make contact with the tiled flooring due to his rather short statue. However, what he lacked in height, he made up in muscle, his chest nearly as broad as Kyle’s own despite there being a damn near foot in height-difference between them. “You got brought here a few hours ago. You’ve been out for quite a while.”

The American grunted brokenly in understanding, his lower body shifting now that the additional weight had changed its location in an attempt to achieve a more preferable position for his tortured shoulder and back. However, as he did so, he dully noted a sudden ache in the structure of his pelvis that had been forced to bear the brunt of the restraining methods from before, leaving behind an insistent throbbing just beneath the skin that promptly decided to spread to both hips.

Very quickly, any attempt to move sent a rather unpleasant jolt through his entire lower region, forcing him to remain still for now.

Shit…

“A-and what exactly d-did I d-do while I was out?”, he inquired through gritted teeth, practically repeating the secondary part of his original questions to urge more information out of the brunette. An attempt to gain any sort of knowledge of what could possibly have happened while he had been mentally absent.

He could barely remember anything, after all. The last thing he recalled were three scientists, a syringe and…the Baron.

His Master…

My Marius.

The “kiss”, then the serum…followed by unbearable pain.

That’s it. Once it had been injected, the part of his brain that was responsible for storing memories seemed to just have…shut off. There was nothing, not even a distant echo of what could have possibly occurred.

That is…new. N-normally I always remember something...

Just pure darkness.

I wonder if I killed anyone.

It…sadly would not be the first time.

The soldier chuckled, tilting his head to the side. The tip of his ponytail fell over his shoulder, swaying softly before eventually settling against his neck. “Do you want the long version, or do you prefer the short one?”, he hummed, pursing his lips a little. The amused smirk, however, never left his features.

Kyle felt the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes, almost did so, in fact. However, the fear of yet another wave of dizziness quickly brought back some sense, causing him to choose to merely narrow them instead. “Short.”, he replied with no hesitation, knowing just how lengthy a recollection could get if he allowed the Slav to get carried away.

He was, to put it in simple yet clear terms, a true yapfest.

“Alright! As you wish, Mr. Crane. Buckle up.”, the smaller man toothily grinned down at him, cocking his head to the other side in a feeble attempt to mock him. Then, he lifted himself with a grunt, swinging his second leg over the hybrid’s body and over the edge of the bed to slide off, the belts of his black uniform rustling softly as he rose to his full height.

Finally, he seemed to have found the diligence to no longer use him as his sitting pillow. It had been getting quite uncomfortable.

“After the boss man left, everything kinda went to shit. And it did so real fast.”, he began, folding his large, gloved hands behind his back while beginning to slowly pace. His steps were elaborated, his frame swaying from left to right more than it had to, every muscle within his shoulders, back and neck relaxed as if he did not have a care in the world. “First, everything was normal. Your vitals were good, you showed no unusual reactions to the injections that you were given, you performed excellently in the initial neurological test…you were screaming like a fucking banshee, yeah, but that’s nothing new.”

Having reached the wall, he fluidly turned a 160°, pressing his mouth into a thin line while raising his eyebrows as high as they could possibly go. “But then…they injected you with something else. Dunno what it was, but it was bad.”

Subject Alpha grunted, hissing a groan through clenched pearly whites while his eyes traced the other’s every movement. That…did not sound good. “W-what do you mean, b-bad? W-what did I do…?”

Iggy huffed, suddenly stopping in his tracks. His facial features twisted into a dry look, his jaw tensing while his forehead wrinkled in response to the furrowing of his brows. “I was getting there.”, he exclaimed, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest to feign offence.

Once again, the former Hero of Harran felt the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. “Y-yeah, yeah. Sorry…”,  he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from saying more. The quicker this man got to tell the actual story, the better. He did not want to sit here all day/night and be forced to listen to his insistent ramblings that usually stayed on topic for exactly five minutes before they lost the red line and went God-knows-where. He didn’t have the energy for that.

He didn’t have the energy for anything, really. Even this cost him nearly all he had, and his buttocks were just lying on the bed, listening to a person talk!

The Slav scoffed, a sound that was accompanied by a shake of his head in pure mock-disbelief. “Unbelievable…”, he muttered with false exasperation, the amusement behind it poorly – if at all – disguised. “That you can never let me finish…”

The hybrid had to physically swallow the snarky reply he wanted to give in return, merely exhaling so aggressively his nostrils flared with a painful twinge.

God…even these felt bruised. They hurt less when he had his nose broken by that chimera a few months ago…

You’re a fucking lunatic.

“To put it in simple terms, my friend: You got out of control.”, the soldier drawled on, continuing his pacing slow and measured, the leather of his boots creaking with every step. “It started out simple enough: You screeching like a Virial that got a megaphone taped to its mouth and fighting against the restraints like a rabid dog that wants to rip the postman apart. “Nothing to worry about”, the docs said, “Probably just a response to the sensory overload he’s experiencing.””

He stopped, his smirk tightening to the point where it began to resemble a snarl. “But kiss my ass, it wasn’t.”

He unfolded his arms from his front, guiding his hands to rest on his hips, his nails digging into the material of his combat pants. “You, my friend, quite literally exploded with rage. You went off like I’ve never seen before, and I’ve been working for Mr. Blonde for a good decade now.”

Oh…

That…that sounded even worse.

Kyle allowed his eyes to flutter closed, the lids quivering not only from overstimulation, but also the emotions that pushed themselves to the surface upon hearing what had occurred during his…’absence’. “Did I…kill anyone? Or anything?”, he uttered, his voice dropping several octaves until it was nothing more than a low, vibrating rasp with a slight tremble within his words.

He…dreaded the answer. And given past experiences…rightfully so.

But he had to face it head on. If he did end the life of someone whom he did not mean to die, he wanted to know and take responsibility. That is what he owed them at the very least.

Much to his utter relief, however, Iggy shook his head.

“No, you didn’t.”, he promised, sucking in air through his teeth before swallowing the saliva that accumulated underneath his tongue with an audible gulp. “The scientists chickened out as soon as they as soon as they realized something was off and us soldiers followed close behind after you punched the first poor bastard. We did not want to risk killing you. Or…well…getting killed by you.” He broke off, the laugh that tore from his throat hoarse and devoid of any humor. “Though, honestly, with you, the second option was the more likely outcome for us.”

Crane’s features twisted into something pained, though this time, the physical agony he was experiencing was not the cause. “Shit…”, he uttered, balling both palms into fists, the cloth of the mattress beneath him clutched in between his straining fingers. “Is…is the guy okay?”

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, he’s fine. Well, mostly.”, Mr. Viktor assured him, holding his clothed paws up in a gesture that was meant to be soothing. It did not have the intended effect. “You’ve broken a few ribs, his collarbone and left some nasty-ass bruises, but nothing life-threatening. He’s already had surgery and is in recovery.”

“Jesus Christ…” That did not sound okay…

“Anyway!”, the smaller man suddenly yelled, clapping once with more force than necessary to tear the hybrid from any potential thoughts that could have possibly brewed in that hazy head of his. “Back to the story: It was a shitshow.” He moved towards one of the free beds near Kyle’s own, hoisting himself onto it with a grunt and crossing his legs with a low groan of effort. He was getting old… “After everyone took their legs into their hands and fled that room like a bunch of sheep, we closed the door to lock you in there. And thank fuck we did, because – and I swear to God – you ripped through your steel-restraints only a literal second later and went on a god-damned rampage.”

The American felt his heart stop. Oh no…

“Fuck…”, he muttered under his breath, his gaze flickering away from his friend down to his sculptured chest for a moment before he forced it to return, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of his scarred lip. “D-did I try to escape?”

The soldier gave him a nod. “Yep. You did.”, he confirmed, bringing one of his knees up to his shoulders to wrap his broad arms around it. “It was the first thing you did after getting up, actually. Walked right up to us, threw your fist back, and punched it as if your life depended on it.” Bobbing his head up and down, the Slav proceeded purse his mouth into a pout, a dry, humorless smile incorporated within that expression. “Never been so thankful for a study door, you know. I still shat my pants, but at least it kept in you there.”

The former Hero of Harran could not repress the pure sigh of relief that escaped his throat, the tension in his shoulders that had subconsciously built up over time easing up a little. He was, by no means, relaxed, however. He was fairly certain that there was more to the story.

And oh boy, he was right.

“After you – or whoever you turned into – realized that you were not getting out, you screamed at us in something I’m sure is not recognized as a language and then proceeded to turn your rage away from us and towards the equipment. And then, you went on a riot.” Iggy leaned forward a little, his tongue tracing over the white of his pearly whites before swiping over his gums. “And when I say riot, I mean it. You took that room apart. A fucking chimera wouldn’t have done as much damage as you did.”

“Oh, fantastic…”, Crane muttered, bringing one of his hands up to his forehead to rub the skin there. An action meant to soothe himself, though regrettably, his body immediately punished him by reminding him of his extensive soreness. The pain that shot through his muscles and up to his fingers made him audibly wince. “Is there…anything salvageable?”

The smaller brunette shook his head, his cheeks puffed out with air that he had pushed from his lungs and into his oral cavity. “According to the technician I’ve talked to an hour ago: Nope. You pulverized that shit. And what didn’t get turned into scrap and dust was so severely damaged that it’ll take a month or longer repair – depending on when we find the necessary material to do so.” He shifted slightly, bringing his behind more onto the bed so he would not accidentally slip off the mattress. “The only stuff that survived this entire ordeal unscathed was what’s bolted to the ceiling.”

Kyle felt his heart clench in his chest, realization setting in more and more. He could practically picture the mess that he had left behind, the expensive equipment shattered on the floor, the gauges on the wall. Fucking hell…

“I-I doubt that the Baron w-was happy to hear about that.”, he murmured, instinctually sinking into himself in response to the overwhelming shame he felt wash over him

His friend’s reply only made it worse.

I failed…

“Oh, he wasn’t. The Big Man was fuming.”, Mr. Viktor, clarified, his face twisting into a dreadful expression that revealed just how horrifying the sight must have been.

The Baron was thin, yes, as pale as a vampire and as elegant as a Lipizzaner, but he was terrifying. Especially when enraged. The violence that resided within that boney body could rival a Volatile’s.

Scratch that, it surpassed it by miles.

I’m sorry, Master. I did not mean to disappoint you….

“W-what did he say?”, the hybrid could not help but inquire, his throat suddenly feeling impossibly tight.

Iggy snorted, his lip pulling up in a troubled, half-assed snarl again. “I dunno, man. I wasn’t the one who broke the news to him. But what I do know is that he got mad enough to come to the lab and resolve the issue himself.”

Wait…what?

That…was surprising.

Kyle blinked rapidly, cocking his head to the side. “H-he was the one who sedated me?” His voice was breathy, tinged with disbelief.

The Slav nodded, his features easing up a little. Whether this was a conscious decision or just some of the tension leaving his body, Crane didn’t know. But knowing this man, the former was a very possible thought. For being such a smug bastard, he was very considerate when it came to his friends when it came to his actions. It was part of his very unique charm.

“Yep! He for sure did! Scared the shit out of us all by practically teleporting right behind us with a some weird-ass gun and a face that would have sent the most braindead Infected running.” He began to gesture around with his hand, trying to paint a picture of the situation with the help of his palms and digits. It…did not quite work, but thankfully, Kyle was lucid enough to create his own vivid images of what could have happened based on what he was being told. “He didn’t even ask what was going on. No moo, no baa, no nothing. He just pushed past us, loaded his gun, opened the door, stepped inside, aimed and shot you in the back without a second thought. You didn’t even notice him until he drove that…I guess it was a dart of some sorts…into your flesh, that’s how fast shit went down.”

Crane physically flinched, though he was unsure whether it was because of the thought of his master being confronted with a feral, murderous version of himself or the instinctual recoil of having yet another needle pierce his skin. “D-did I…t-try to hurt him?”, he asked in a hurried voice, his hands scrambling in the sheets covering the mattress and parts of himself to sit up. That, however, proved to be impossible, as the pain that shot through his upper body so intense he was forced back down with a low, hoarse groan.

Damnit…

The smaller man’s expression dropped, and he hesitated to answer, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

At that sight, prized Subject Alpha felt his heart drop. He knew it then and there without the other man needing to say something. Though he still did before he could stop him.

“Yeah, you did. Jumped as soon as he pierced you.”, the Slav confirmed, his smugness dropping momentarily. It was as if he knew that this news were the worst news for his friend to bear yet.

N-no…

The former Hero of Harran panted, grinding his teeth together with a low grunt that vocalized his frustration mixed with the horror that had begun to tighten his chest. “D-did I….hit him?”

Tell me I haven’t. Please!

Once again, silence. Crane wanted to scream.

He dug his fingers into the sheets again. “I-Iggy…”

“Nope, you missed.”, his friend eventually revealed, a ghost of a smile on his scarred face. “He rolled out of the way before you could. Kept you busy until you collapsed a minute or two later. The worst you did was getting caught in his coat once, but he gave you a nice kick in your balls before you could get any deeper, so he got away unharmed.”

Ah…that was why crotch hurts like a bitch... Thank fucking god…

The hybrid groaned in relief, allowing himself to fall back into the softness of his pillow. He felt his body throb in response to the intense rush of adrenaline that had surged through his veins only moments earlier. “You’re such an ass.”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”, the soldier chuckled, holding his hand up in mock-surrender. God, what a cunt.

This time, Kyle did roll his eyes. Without side-effects, thankfully.

“Anyway, back to the point.” Iggy shifted, bringing his second leg onto the white sheets. He did not seem concerned with the dirt he was spreading on the white sheets. “After you dropped like a wet rice sack, the Big Boss kept his gun aimed at you just in case you were faking it. He eased up after around five minutes and told us to get you out of there to the treatment center. Said that he wanted to take a good look at you himself. You were eventually carried there by Ludwig, Sunar and Kevin.”

The Baron’s Beast nodded in understanding. “And what then?”

Iggy pursed his lips. “That I don’t know exactly. Wasn’t there.”, he explained, his check bulging as he played with his tongue. “I took the time to help get Konrad to the emergency station after that. That big, German lad is like a fucking tank and can take punches like a champ, but he was shaking like a damn leaf and couldn’t speak, so I knew that the damage was more serious than he let on at the time.”

Konra-…ah! Right. The man I got. Shit…

“Which it turned out to be.”, the monstrous human hummed, fluttering his eyes close again for a brief moment. “I hope he doesn’t hate my guts too much for that. Wouldn’t blame him if he returned the favor as soon as he’s back on his feet.”

“Nah. He’s a chill guy. He knows it isn’t your fault.”, Mr. Viktor assured him, this time being entirely genuine. Or at least Kyle hoped so. “Besides, I doubt the Baron would let that happen. You’re his top agent, after all.”

He snorted. “That is…one way to put it.”, he uttered, swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. “Anyway, continue.”

“Yessir.”, the Slav mocked, his lips stretching into that usual, stupid grin that he was so well known for. It was even topped with that tiny sneer on the right, revealing a bit more of his fangs than anyone in this entire world ever wanted to see. “After I dropped him off to the med-staff, I went to the treatment center to check on you and to ask if any help was needed. Got there just in time too. They were just wheeling you out with the boss man walking beside you. Sucked up all my courage and went to talk to him, asked where you’d be brought.”

Crane’s head twitched backwards, a startled look on his face. “And he answered?”

Iggy nodded, looking as if he, too, couldn’t believe it. “Yeah. Took me by surprise too, but he actually told me that they gave you something called Acen…Akven…Ak-something – I’m sorry, I can’t pronounce that shit – and they were now bringing you to the waking room so you can come to your senses in peace. He also said I had excellent timing, that he would have called me through the speakers if I hadn’t shown up myself. That was the moment I shat my pants a little more.”

Despite himself, Kyle snickered quietly at that, raising his left eyebrow. “And what did he want?”

“He wanted what led me to be there in the first place: To guard you until you woke up.”, the soldier clarified, shifting to unfold himself and dangle his legs, though he found this position to be dissatisfying only a second after, crossing them instead. “He said, and I quote: “I am uncertain whether or not this medicine has the same effect, given that the results of yesterday’s experiments must be taken into consideration. As such, I want you to remain by his side until he regains consciousness. Shall he show aggression, inject him with “this”. Then, he gave me a syringe filled with some white liquid, told me that after he came back from some sort of field mission, he’d wait at the laboratory entrance for you once you would awaken, and left. After that, I hurried after the docs that were bringing you here, and I’ve been waiting by your side ever since.” He shrugged. “That’s it. That’s the story.”

Prized Subject Alpha snorted, giving him a dry look. “T-that was not the short version.”

“Shut up.”, the Slav groaned, leaning back a little until something in his back popped. Ouch… “I could have dragged it out, quoted every damn word I remember. Be glad that I didn’t put you through that story telling.”

“Oh, how g-generous of you.”, Crane muttered, rolling his eyes with a shameless sniff. “You’re s-such a good person. If there w-was still novel prices, y-you should be awarded one for your k-kind, s-selfless heart.”

The smaller soldier smirked smugly in response, moving his chin upwards to hold his nose high. “Oh, I know.”

God, what an ass.

But holy shit, I love him like a brother.

May the gods, god or the flying spaghetti monster bless the day he met him.

“You’re u-unbelievable.”, he muttered under his breath, though there was no bite in his words. “But hey, I-I guess you wouldn’t be Igor Viktor if you w-weren’t.”

The sturdy brunette nodded, adjusting himself so he could get off the bed. “Exactly, bud. The only reason I am me is because I am me unapologetically.”

“And y-you drive your commander i-insane while you’re at it.”, the hybrid pointed out, his eyes sparkling with a knowing glint.

Iggy’s smirk widened to a grin, pushing out his chest as if this was something to be proud of. Well…in his book, it probably was. “Not my fault he wants my ass more than my service.”

The former Hero of Harran sighed deeply, giving him a look that could have been mistaken for being judgmental without the context of their relationship. “You know what? Fair point.”

The Slavic man didn’t answer, but the dance-like shake of his shoulders and fluttering of his eyelids said enough.

Kyle could not suppress genuine laughter at that, his pain momentarily forgotten at the sheer absurdity of their situation. This guy was the weirdest dude he had ever had the honor of meeting in his life, and in his line of work and in Harran, he had met his fair share of interesting figures. Most of which, he remembered with great sadness, proved to be condemnatory, treacherous clowns which happy trigger fingers and a lack of gratefulness.

They all deserved to die.

Good thing that the majority did. Fate was a real bitch, wasn’t it? It had a funny sense of humor. Almost as cruel as its sense of justice.

“You said that the Baron would be waiting for me at the entrance after his mission.”, Kyle suddenly spoke again, tearing Mr. Viktor out of whatever sexy daydream he was having about his commander and their…intimate meeting sessions. “I-is he there already? O-or still there? I mean, I doubt it but…”

“Oh no, he’s waiting!”, his friend interrupted him, the soles of his boots slapping against the ground as he rose to his feet. “Checked in around 5 minutes before you woke up and vomited all over the place. He’s sitting in his car and doing something on his tablet.” He tsk-ed, his smirk returning full-force. “The soldier I talked to sounded so fed-up. Not that I blame her, I’d be too if I were held hostage by my boss in shitty-ass weather.”

“Do you…”, Kyle began, though he broke off with a small grunt when he attempted to sit up once more. This time, however, he was considerably slower. “Do you think I can go see him?”

Iggy shrugged, glancing at his body, then to the puddle of bile on the ground that had begun to dry – and reek unbearably – while they had talked before proceeding to look at the door that would lead them to the labyrinth-like hallways that were used to navigate through the enormous facility. Eventually, he sucked in a breath before he replied, making sure to meet his eyes as he talked. “If you’re feeling good enough for that, sure! I’m sure the Big Man wants to go home too.”, he hummed, striding over to him with long, dance-like steps. “No one’s gonna blame you if you stay here for a little longer, though. You got one hell of a cocktail today. Not even one of those massive drug-parties from before the Fall could compete.”

The hybrid shook his head, holding out a hand in hopes of getting his buddy’s assistance. “Honestly? I wanna get outta here. I’m sick of this room already.”

The Slav laughed, grabbing onto Kyle with a vice-like grip before assisting him in his efforts to stand, wrapping his other gloved fingers around his friend’s thighs to guide his legs towards his own body so he could properly swing them over the edge of the bed. “I can’t blame you, bud.”, he chuckled,, quickly disconnecting him from the machine – without a blaring alarm, thankfully – and carefully steading him as he  made his first attempt to stand up. “This place is worse than the fucking hospitals of the Old World.”

Crane huffed a laugh, though his face was tense from the effort and the unsteadiness he was experiencing. “Agreed.”, he muttered, leaning his full weight against the other man until he was sure that he would not fall.

Iggy went silent for a moment, the leather of his armor groaning in protest as he once again repositioned to hold the monstrous human upright. He carefully assisted him in taking the first few steps, his grasp never faltering while the former Hero of Harran searched for his footing, the dizziness as well as weakness in his joints making the progress difficult.

Several minutes of slow, pure agony passed with both men giving their best, and eventually, Kyle reached the wall, being able to hold himself there. He took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking from exhaustion while he leaned his forehead against the cool surface, droplets of sweat running down his cheeks and bumpy nose.

“Holy shit…”, he wheezed, swallowing thickly. “That is…more harder than I thought it would be…”

“Told you that this isn’t a good idea.”, the soldier, who stood only a foot behind him huffed, wiping his own forehead with the back of his armored forearm. Good god, this beast of a man was heavy. “Should I give you some adrenaline? Not sure if it helps but…”

Crane’ grunt interrupted, his nails digging into metal as he attempted to turn around. An endeavor that almost caused him to fall as his left leg decided to give out in exactly that moment, though thankfully, Iggy managed to catch him before his ass could make an uncomfortably harsh meeting with the ground. Instead, he was lowered with care, allowing the suffering man to avoid yet another pain to deal with.

Not that it mattered anymore…

“Firstly; the fuck you did.”, he panted, allowing his head to fall backwards, the sound of his skull hitting the white surface dully echoing through the air. “Secondly; …yeah. Give me a shot. Maybe it’ll give me the strength I need to – ah – get outa here…”

“Okay…hold on.”, his helper said, taking a cautious step back with his arms still outstretched just in case Kyle immediately fell to his side before turning on his heels and hurrying towards a large closet he knew held several medical equipment, including medicine and various chemicals. Using his keycard – one that had a broader list of permitted codes than most due to the enormous list of tasks he had to fulfill in his line of work – he deactivated the lock and pulled the metallic doors apart, coming to view with several shelves that were stacked to the brim with plastic boxes, syringes and packages that no normal or sane human being could be bothered to learn how to pronounce.

“Okay…where the fuck is it…”, he muttered under his breath, lifting one of his fingers to drag along the labels, his eyes following to read the designations. “No…no…no…what the fuck is that…no…nah…nope…nyet…nein…no…ah!” Having been successful in his endeavor, he reached inside, grabbing a needle that had been stored away in a blue plastic container. “Found it!”

“Great…”, the hybrid rasped in the background, a grunt slipping past his lips as he lifted his arm, stretching it to its full length to expose his cubital fossa. Clearly an invitation or a wordless way to say “hurry up”. “Let’s see if it’s any good.”

“If you get a seizure from this and die, I’ll deny any fault.”, the Slav announced with a surprisingly strong assertiveness in his voice, adjusting his grasp on the small object and pushing the closet closed again with his free hand, the lock clicking back into place with an audible crack.

Kyle chuckled weakly, the smirk on his face sluggish. “Doesn’t matter. If I die from this, I’ll haunt your ass until the end of time regardless.”

It was clear that his strength was fading, and it was fading fast. A few minutes more, and he’d probably pass out again. Foolish Crane and his habit of underestimating the severeness of his physical condition. Sometimes, the soldier wondered how he made it to adulthood…

“I’ll just call the ghost busters, then.”, Iggy shot back, the belts on his uniform rustling as he jogged back towards his friend, crouching and sitting back on his haunches before grabbing his forearm as soon as he was within reach. “They’ll suck you up, put you in a cage and you can spend the rest of eternity scaring your own sorry ass.”

The taller man snorted in a mixture of amusement and disbelief, his head twitching backwards to regard the other man’s features in a questioning stare. “How the fuck do you know what “Ghostbusters” are?”

The smaller brunette’s movements halted at that, his jade eyes fluttering upwards to meet the beastly human’s own mismatched ones with an “are you serious” expression that was actually devoid of any of his usual arrogance. “You do know that I am only a year younger than you, right?”, he asked flatly, raising his bushy eyebrows while his lids lowered in a judgmental stare. “I grew up with the same movies you did.”

“Still. It’s fucking weird to hear about that damn series again. Means you’re an old bastard.”, the former Hero of Harran huffed, a laughing wheeze bubbling in his throat as he watched the soldier roll his eyes in expiration.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. It’s the same for you.”, Iggy muttered under his breath, his right thumb pushing down the button that allowed the needle of the syringe to emerge with a sharp, metallic hiss, steadily guiding the glistening tip to the veins that jutted out from beneath the skin. “Also, this might hurt.”

Crane opened his mouth to respond wittily, the words already gliding over his tongue, but before he could vocalize them, he felt the sharp sting of the puncture ripple through the nerves of his fore- and upper arm, forcing him to groan in pain instead. “God-fucking-dammit…”, he choked out, subconsciously trying to pull away from the source of it. The tight grip on his limb, however, made that an impossible endeavor, and he was forced to remain still until the last drop of the substance had been added into his bloodstream.

“There.”, the Slav proclaimed, pulling it back out carefully. Once it slid from the hole that it had sliced into his flesh, he hoisted himself back up into a standing position, setting it down onto the nearest surface – a small table nearby that had been stationed against the wall – and stepping back to give his friend some space to recover and regain his composure. “Now we wait.”

Now we wait indeed.

Kyle nodded, his muscles straining as he shifted slightly, stretching his legs out to the full extent. He could already feel the surge the chemicals were meant to bring forth sizzling in his veins, sending small waves of energy through his body that slowly but surely began to accumulate into the desired effect. “I’m either keeling over or gonna beat the shit outta your smug visage.”, he grunted with a sly grin, an expression that only widened when Iggy’s gloved hand morphed into a long, stinky middle finger.

“I’d like to see you try in your current state, beast boy.”, he teased him, though there was no fire in his voice, just friendly teasing. “You can’t even walk straight if your life depended on it.”

“I’m still coordinated enough to rearrange your features, thank you very much.”, the beastly human stated, lifting a finger to point in between his eyes, aiming for the bump and the slightly askew line of his nose. “Gonna break that sniffer back into place. Make sure that it fully points downward again.”

A rough cackle escaped the younger man, his hand coming up to cover the scarred sensory organ that had seen far more violence than it ever should have. “You’re the reason it’s like this in the first place!”, he remained him in a mock-accusatory tone. “Besides, since when are you practicing plastic surgery?”

Crane’s devious smile only grew broader, his arms finally gaining enough strength to properly prop himself up against the wall. “Ever since the virus broke out.”, he informed, pressing his palm against his left breast and directly above his heart once he was sure he was stable in his position. God, that poor thing was racing for its damn life… “Thought it’d switch jobs. Plenty of ugly faces to fix, after all.”

The soldier nearly wheezed, crossing his arms in front of his chest while staring him down with a stare that was probably meant to be judgmental, but was everything but. It appeared to be more entertained than anything else. “You know what? Fair point.”

The former Hero of Harran merely laughed, finally gaining the courage to hold out his hand again to ask for his friend’s assistance. He felt a gloved palm meet his own only a second after, the pull that guided him upwards following instantaneously. Slowly but surely, he rose to his feet once more

“Okay…this is working out far better than before…”, the hybrid noted, carefully turning sideways so one of his hands rested on the wall while the other held onto the bulging bicep of his friend’s clothed arm. Once with good support, he dared to lift his leg in an attempt to take the first step. “I don’t feel like folding in on myself.”

“Should I let go?”, Iggy inquired as he watched the process of walking be successfully executed, the second footstep soon following the first, the third coming right after, and the fourth was already without hesitation. Gradually, the tall man seemed to regain his sense of balance. That, automatically, brought back the security in his leg muscles that was otherwise such a given to most people on earth until the moment came in which it was taken away from them.

Kyle, despite a moment of initial hesitation, nodded, side-glancing him for a second before snapping his attention back towards the “path” he was walking on. “Yeah. Just stay close in case I decide to impersonate the rice sack from that one metaphor.”

“Don’t do that, bud. Bodies are shit to clean up.”, the Slav drawled mockingly, his lip pulling back and upwards, parting to expose the golden canine hidden behind the soft flesh of his scarred mouth. Despite his sarcasm, though, he did comply with his request, steadily easing his grasp until he no longer held onto the American’s body, still hovering close once more just in case his intervention was required. “Besides, you made enough of a mess already.”

The hybrid halted his movements just to turn his neck towards him once again, giving him a deadpan stare he hoped expressed exactly what he was thinking. “You’re such an asshole, I swear to god.”

The soldier just gave him an unapologetic smile, holding his hands up in a gesture of feigned innocence. “Nah, I’m just telling the truth.”, he claimed with a dance-like shake of his shoulders. “A man’s gotta be honest, after all.”

Kyle scoffed, rolling his head along with his eyes, both eventually settling back on the ground. “Cunt…”

The soldier’s lungs released a rough chortle, the sound rough with a hint of wetness. A consequence of nearly a decade of smoking which, astonishingly, had still continued well into the outbreak of the THV, with the man hogging nearly 20 packages in his palace quarters alone.

To this day, Kyle had no idea how in the world this guy managed to keep a consistent stash, given there were no more stores or vending machines to get them from.

Anyway…back to the point.

Despite his rather vivid and audible expression of amusement that caused the chest as well as shoulders to shake in the rhythm of the breathy wheezes emerging from the smaller man’s throat, jade eyes never left Kyle’s body, intensely studying the broad build while the former Hero of Harran shuffled along the white and grey. His armor rustled as he took his own steps, hovering nearby just in case his intervention was required given that neither knew just how unstable Crane truly was, his instincts on high alert and fully prepared to act just in case the beastly human did lose his balance.

Thankfully, however, as the hybrid steadily progressed along the sterile barrier, his steps began to gain even further confidence, the process of walking gaining increasingly more swiftness until eventually, he was able to set a pace that would be acceptable to call “normal”, knees no longer buckling carrying his weight.

And eventually, he finally managed to reach the other side of the chamber with no further incidents, his palms slamming against the edge in triumph. He made it.

He fucking made it without flattening his face against the tiles underneath the soles of his naked feet.

Sweat poured from his forehead, trickling from the side of his face and down his cheeks and chin, some droplets traveling inwards to settle on his lips, moistening them with its salty liquid. They did not manage to hold onto them for long, however, as soon after, his mouth twisted into a pained smirk. The sudden change of tension in surface caused many to lose their grip, dripping onto the floor. “Shit…”

Igor raised his bushy eyebrows, stopping directly at his side. “You good?”, he asked, his forehead wrinkling in genuine worry, his gloved palm pressing between Kyle’s shoulder plates as soon as he was within reach.

Crane nodded, chest heaving with exertion, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

Jesus Christ, this was more exhausting than being involved in a chase against Volatiles.

“Y-yeah. I think so.”, he croaked, his back muscles twitching in an attempt to signal his friend to cease touching him, that he was far too overstimulated to bear any sort of contact that could possibly avoided. Thankfully, the younger man seemed to get the message, for the warmth vanished only a moment later. “I ain’t going to jump on rooftops, but I think walking is within the budget.”

Iggy snorted, allowing his arms to idly fall to his sides. “Well, good thing you don’t have to escape the lab by crawling through the vents and running through the hallways, eh?”, he teased with a chuckle, gesturing towards a vent-shaft nearby that led to god-who-knows where. “No sneaking for fist-fighting required. All you gotta do is put one foot in front of the other.”

Kyle huffed a small laugh at that, pushing himself off the wall and into a position that somewhat straightened his back, using his heavily scarred, naked forearm to wipe over his face. God, he felt as if he were back in Harran’s blistering heat… “Good god, buddy. You sound like a reverse gym teacher.”

The soldier’s mouth twitched, tough its corners were still pulled upwards in a sly smirk. He seemed to take these words as a compliment. Whether or not they actually were, Kyle was not so sure of himself.

“I have the opposite of your standard – how do you Americans call it again…ah! – PE-instructor physique as well.” He shifted his right shoulder so it hung deeper than its left counterpart, patting the firmness of his stomach with the armored plate that had been strapped to his elbow. “It’s rock-hard down there, and I ain’t talking about my dick.”

Kyle could not repress the cackle that bubbled in the back of his throat, shaking his head in disbelief as his body was rattled by the sound emerging from the depths of his lungs. “Okay, buddy. I didn’t ask, but thanks for the information anyway.”

The Slav’s expression widened even further, a chuckle of his own rumbling in his sturdy chest. “I ain’t hiding details, Crane. You should know that better than anyone else.”

Oh, that he did.

“Fuck me if I didn’t.”

Over the many years that he had known this man, he had gotten quite familiar with his unique personality, quirks as well as flaws. And as such, he was not quite sure himself why he was surprised by the mentioning of his…genitals. After all, that man loved to show off in every way possible.

He had his pride, and he did not hesitate to openly display it. Whether or not that had consequences, though, was an entirely different story.

And if there are, they are his issue. Not mine.

Gathering a bit more courage, the former Hero of Harran moved once more, though this time, he did not follow the line of the room’s edges. Instead, he stepped into the open area with his newfound, adrenaline-induced and continuously growing strength, testing new waters. And once he had done so, he, chest heaving with exertion, began to stumble towards the door now, deciding that he was confident enough in his balance as well as endurance to tackle the journey he required to overcome to finally get to his master.

“Okay…I think I’m ready…”, he grunted, glancing over his shoulder to give the man that had been entrusted with his safety – or the facility’s. It depended – a curt nod that signaled what he had already put into words. “Have my back, yeah?”

“I’m gonna be right behind ya.”, Iggy reassured him as he stepped past him to press the button to the movable’s barrier’s left, the gloved digit momentarily discolored by the green light the lamp behind the small, white nub emitted, signaling that the locking mechanism was not active. “Just take it slow, a’right? The Big Boss is stubborn enough to wait all day and night, so I doubt he’s leaving now.”

“Well, I am sure-fucking-hope not. I’d look fucking stupid if he did.”, the hybrid huffed with a breathy laugh. Internally, however, he felt a twinge of panic tighten his chest, sending a surge of energy through him that urged him to go and go now.

A part of him genuinely feared that in the time it would take him to reach the entrance from here, the Baron finally got fed up and told his guards to guide him back to the palace, abandoning Kyle to deal with his loneliness as well as his condition. He had never done it before – at least not without warnings and ultimatums which Kyle, unfortunately, missed on occasions – but the underlying fear was still there.

Always had been. Especially since the cunts back in Harran.

He had been abandoned so often, he expected it to be default by now. Sometimes, sadly, even from those he trusted most.

FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARDS.

“With his tablet and work? Nah. That man’s glued.”, Iggy comforted with a half-smirk, patting his shoulder one last time while the hybrid stumbled past him, finally stepping into the enormous network of hallways that served as connections to the countless chambers this gargantuan facility housed. “We’ve got time.”

“Yeah, time. But no patience.”, Kyle admitted, instinctively wrapping his arms around his chest in response to the icy breeze that he was suddenly hit with, the cool air causing his skin to bristle and goosebumps to raise.

Jesus Christ, it was cold out here. Did someone forget to turn on the heat?

He could really go for a shirt right now. And…shoes. Especially shoes.

“Well, then let’s stop yapping and get going, then. It’s gonna be a long way.”, the Slav reminded him with a slight more stern shift in his tone, following his example and stepping outside, the door hissing closed behind him as it had hit the maximum amount of time the program accepted it to be open and did not detect any sort of biological matter in between its slides.

Kyle nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line in dread at what was ahead of him, yet also with excitement with the reward that this self-brought upon challenge would bring. “Yeah…let’s go.”

And with that, they set out, leaving behind the waking room as well as the mess within, beginning their journey to allow the monster to finally reunite with the man who, despite his rather frail appearance, may be more dangerous than any type of Infected in this world combined.

Crane had no idea just how long they had been shuffling through the hallways. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours.

After a while, both of them just felt the same.

What he did know, however, was that he was utterly exhausted and drenched to the bone with sweat. The shirt that Iggy had gotten for him somewhere along the way was completely soaked, and the soft fabric it was made out of clung to his skin as if it desired to merge with it.

His body was visibly shuddering, his lungs burnt, and his muscles were quivering with effort that had long-since reached the doable limits. It was miracle that he was still standing, let alone walking, pitiful as a sight but still very much mobile. Though, he supposed that the image of the Baron that he had painted in his mind, cramped into the driver’s seat of one of the cars, tablet resting in his lap as he typed away while patiently awaiting his beast’s return gave him the motivation he needed to push through any sort of pain and keep going.

As for the soldier; He had kept his word. He never left his side.

Always a step behind and on high alert, the Slav had saved him from several accidental tumbles that had occurred on the path that they had taken. No matter in what direction or how violently he had fallen, the smaller man had always been there and prevented him from one disaster after the other.

Kyle was extraordinarily thankful for his presence. While he did still voice his more than unfavorable humor and cracked several more jokes along the way, he never stopped being the support that the hybrid had needed most right now, ensuring he was fine and had the strength to continue their journey before he had allowed him to move on, even offering to get a doctor halfway through when he, regrettably, had to once again empty his stomach into the nearest trash can.

He was sure that he would not have made it this far without him, and he made a mental note to think of some sort of gift as a way to repay him for his endless patience as well as willingness to put up with him, given the state he was in.

Though he would do so after he rested. He could barely keep a straight thought right now.

“F-fuck’s s-sake…h-how much further…”, he wheezed as they passed through what may as well be the hundredth door, momentarily pausing in his step to take a deep, wheezing breath before forcing himself to continue. He had long since lost track of where exactly they were, the mental image of this place’s map completely distorted due to his current condition.

He heard Iggy hum in thought behind him, the fabric of his jacket rustling as he slid it backwards at his wrist to expose his multi-purpose watch to check the time. “With the speed we’ve had until now and given where we are, I suppose that we still have around 10 to 15 minutes to go.”

Crane felt his heart drop at this news, his face twisting into an expression of pure shock while he wiped his head around to glance over his shoulder, his mutated eye seeking the other’s jade stare in disbelief. “You cannot be serious right now…”, he rasped, internally begging for the other man’s face to change and his sly voice to tell him that he was just playing with him. That it was a joke.

Much to his dismay, however, the soldier merely pressed his mouth together into a tight line. “Nope. Sadly I am.”

For fuck’s sake…

“G-god…”, he groaned, his neck audibly cracking as he rolled his skull so he was facing back forward. “W-why is this place so fucking huge…”

“I don’t know. My guess is that the Boss Fam just wanted to put as many workstations into one place as possible for maximum efficiency.”, Iggy sighed, bringing a gloved hand upwards to use the rough material to scratch his skin. “I’d like to remind you that we are in the smaller one in Castor Woods too! The one underneath the Palace is even bigger!”

Kyle snorted instinctually, though the sound was not one of amusement as much as it was one of expiration and exhaustion. He knew of that fact, of course. How could he not after 13 years? The larger lab was like his second home at this point, the place where had spent countless hours – days, weeks, months – of his new life in to be tested on, cut open and sealed shut.

That did not mean, however, that he did not find its size absolutely absurd.

“Y-yeah, I k-know…”, he snorted, reaching up to wipe his dripping lips. He felt as if he had just emerged from water. “I wonder how the fuck they managed to establish it down there. I don’t know much about construction, but it seems too big to be a one generation project.”

The smaller man hummed in thought, dragging his tongue over his pearly white teeth before playing a little with his golden canine. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was multi-generational with regular equipment updates.”, he eventually mused. “The Fischer Family was – and is – crazy enough for that.”

 “Crazy, yeah.”, Kyle agreed, though he broke off his sentence to take a deep breath, his lungs burning as if they had been set on fire. It was almost as if they wanted to punish him… “But also criminally brilliant. Especially him…”

Marius. My master.

The Slav behind him chuckled, shaking his head with the same knowing look on his face that Crane had given him back in the waking room. “That he is.” He began to jog to overtake Kyle, using his card to open the next door to gain access to the next hallway. Thankfully, he noted, it was the last one they had to torture themselves through before reaching an elevator. From there, their remaining path was short. “Brilliant and absolutely terrifying.”

The hybrid smirked, the twisted sense of loyalty in him soaring in joy hearing this – mostly – positive affirmation about the man he adored. The man he idolized. The man he owed not only his life, but also his sanity and new powers.

God, he could not wait to see him in person again. To smell his scent. To feel his touch.

His skin was so soft, his hands so gentle. They were like drugs, and Kyle their addict. He would murder hundreds just to feel them brush over his jaw in the way they had during the experiment that was the cause of his current condition in the first place.

However, it was all worth it. Every single piece of affection he received for enduring this necessary pain to raise a new humanity from the ashes the old one burnt into. Though the former Hero of Harran had to honestly admit that he cared little for that.

All he wanted was this pale, perfect maniac of a man.

“Uh…Kyle?”

Iggy’s voice tore through the wave of thought in which Crane had gotten lost in, making him halt his movements and blink his mismatched eyes. He turned slowly, shuffling his feet as not to fall while he sought out the form of his friend who had so rudely interrupted him in his reminiscence that, momentarily, had allowed him to forget the agony he was enduring at this very moment.

However, when he finally set sight on him, he noticed that the Slav was standing by a door, leaned against the wall with a questioning expression on his sharp face. One gloved palm was pressed against the cold metal to keep himself steady, the other pointing down the hallway that led to the west. “You uh…are going in the wrong direction.”

Oh…oops.

“Ah…sorry. Got lost in thought for a moment there.”, the hybrid quickly apologized, pushing himself off the floor to march back.

“Wouldn’t have noticed.”, the smaller smirked, pressing the button before putting himself between the movable barrier, keeping it open so Crane did not have to stress his walk. “You’ve been quiet for the last 5 minutes. That is…kinda unlike you.”

“Says the biggest yapfest in Castor Woods.”, he clapped back, limping past him.

At that callout, Iggy grumbled, hurrying after him and allowing the door to close. “Shut your mouth.”

Prized Subject Alpha smirked, his sharp fangs flashing in the bright light of the lamps above their head illuminating their surroundings, but he did as he was asked. Most likely because he was slowly beginning to run out of topics to talk to. And of breath of course. He sounded like ancient locomotive that had not been in service for decades and whose handlers had forgotten to clean before putting it back onto the rails.

As such, the rest of the walk was in comfortable silence, Crane focusing on his balance as well as the path ahead while the soldier kept an eye on him and his left to not accidentally miss the elevator, which thankfully, soon came into view. They stopped in front of its doors, Iggy pressing the button while the hybrid leaned against the wall to take a deep breath, his chest heaving and his heart hammering so wildly he was sure that it was visible as well as audible from the outside.

God, he was tired. He was looking forward to the cars. He could at least sit down then. Heck, maybe he’ll even take a damn nap while they drove back to the castle.

Wouldn’t be the first time I’d do that. Especially not when he’s driving.

Being in the middle of a protected circle of soldiers and his master being an extraordinarily skilled driver, traveling with the Baron was surprisingly relaxing. As long as the scientist didn’t chase anyone down, that was.

Which uh…was something he did do. Surprisingly often, too!

When the Elevator Car finally slid through the shaft and stopped at their floor, the movable barriers shifted apart and revealed the small box of space made to transport living creatures or equipment up and down in a horizontal line. The Slav stepped in first, holding his hand out for Kyle to take and pull him inside before pressing the button of the ground floor, positioning himself at the railings that jutted from the mirrors surrounding them afterwards.

The mechanism locked them in soon after, settling tightly before the Counterweight, Machine Drive as well as the steel-ropes made to carry an enormous amount of weight got to work, synching with the rest of the system to carry them upwards floor after floor before finally settling behind the landing door that opened with a “ding”, giving the pair access to their destination. Again, Iggy stepped over the threshold first, helping his friend with a gentle pull before patiently waiting for him to regain his strength to walk once more, trotting after him to serve as some sort of physical safety net when he finally did.

Thankfully, though, he did not have to fulfill that role for much longer. Only two minutes after they had reached the ground level the walls suddenly spread apart until the path was twice and a half as broad, the ceiling lifting several meters before merging with a monstrous metallic surface that covered entrance from top to bottom, with only – once again and I apologize for the repeating word that has far too little synonyms – a door in its middle, allowing access without having to move the reddish-brown barrier out of the way.

“Fucking finally…”, Kyle laughed out with a wheeze, stumbling over his own feet in both joy and fatigue. Iggy, thankfully, grabbed the back of his shirt before anything could happen. “I thought this would never end.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t have moved in a Starfish’ pace, we would have come here faster.”, the soldier huffed behind him, ensuring that the hybrid was somewhat stable before brushing past him, sliding out his card for what felt the thousandths time that day, sticking it into the reader and unlocking the lock, allowing him to pull the handle down and push the movable barrier open without having to go through the trouble of removing it’s larger, much heavier and slower counterpart.

“Well, you could have carried me. May have sped things up.”, Crane shot back while he shuffled towards the cold breeze of fresh air that washed over his face, causing him to shiver in both cold and relief.

Holy hell, it smelled good. Like nature. And rain.

Iggy scoffed, rolling eyes in a way that portrayed the thought to be ludicrous to even think about. “Nah.”, he declared, the voice sounding much like a deep-voiced duck that voiced its displeasure. “I’m a sniper and hand-to-hand combat kinda guy. I’d rather leave the carrying to those who are actually getting paid to bust their back.”

Kyle barked a breathy laugh at that, sweat and spit drooling from his lips and onto the ground, leaving small, glistening puddles in his wake. His large hands grasped the thin, icy-cold metal of the doorframe when he finally reached the threshold, the grip nearly bending the material beneath the tips of his digits. “F-fair point.”, he rasped, giving him a sly smirk over his shoulder before hoisting himself out with a grunt of effort.

And with that, he was outside, and good heavens, the change of atmosphere was immediate.

The small gust he had experienced beforehand was nothing compared to the icy air that collided with his body as soon as he stepped into the natural cave the laboratory was merged with. At an instant, his senses were overwhelmed with scents, dirt, dust, stone and much, much more being registered by his brain, though the effect this had on him was far from negative. His chest heaved with a shaky exhale and his eyes momentarily closed in pure bliss, his mouth quivering as a broad smile gradually stretched it apart and split his face in half. He shuddered in relief as he felt actual soil beneath his feet, his naked toes curling into the earth beneath him as if testing whether or not this was actually real and not some sort of fever dream. And when it turned out to be the former, he had to admit he nearly embarrassed himself by dropping to his knees and bring his worship upon it through kisses.

Though uh…thankfully, the small bit of sense that pushed through the overwhelming sensation of relief held him back from doing so, saving him the small bit of dignity he still had left. Even without this…peculiar showcasing of gratefulness, however, it was clear that he felt fantastic.

Heck…he even wanted to cry.

However, he did not allow himself to do so, he did not have time. He knew that there was something even greater waiting on the path ahead of him.

As such, he merely took a few moments to breathe the crisp oxygen that curled around him, allowing it to “cleanse” his still aching lungs as if it would soothe them from the agony they had to endure to get to this point in the first place, and began to walk the last part of his journey. He barely even registered the sound of metal meeting its frame as Iggy locked the entrance to the laboratory to prevent an unlikely but still possible disaster, focused entirely on what was to happen.

He’s out there…

On what was to come.

He’s waiting for me…

I c-cannot make him wait any longer.

His steps were suddenly so much lighter to bear, the heart thundering against his ribcage no longer a burden. If anything, it encouraged him to fasten himself, now nearly in a stumbling trot as he attempted to dash towards the enormous opening that would lead him to the world outside and, more importantly, to very man whom he would kill the innocent for. He heard the Slav hurry after him, calling out to him to slow down, that he would fall if he kept up this pace with how unstable he was. But the hybrid did not want to hear it.

He just wanted to see his master.

He wanted to smell Marius’ scent, feel his touch, hear his voice.

Every nerve in his body screamed with the desire to be close to the man who gave him life and purpose, to the aristocrat whose arrogance was not only well-earned, but also a major part of his peculiar yet perfect charm.

He desired to bathe in his presence, to indulge in his smooth silken voice when he spoke into the voice recorder for his research- as well as personal memos. He craved that soft flesh that was so utterly perfect despite its scars, the cologne that always clung to it as well as the elegant clothing he wore.

When it came to him, no matter in what way, everything else became secondary.

There was only Dr. Marius Fischer. The Baron of Castor Woods. And the beast within him would not rest until it could finally soothe itself in the company of this platin-blonde wonder of humanity.

I need him. I need him. I need all of him!

And he needed him no-

“Gah!”

His hazy train of obsessive thoughts and inner ramblings were interrupted when a little bit of mud and a few pebbles decided that his stroll required an interruption and caused him to slip. He flailed helplessly as he attempted to catch himself, his sense of balance still off and leading his limbs to uselessly flop along with the rest of his body instead of attempting to stabilize it. However, before he could crash into the ground with an uncomfortably violent smack, a hand grabbed him and pushed him in the direction needed to allow him to remain not only standing but also have a good grip on the floor beneath him.

The hybrid panted, his body buzzing with thee unexpected stress, his eyes staring ahead of himself in shock before they slowly dragged towards the man who had – barely – managed to catch up to him in time, his own broad chest heaving and straining with effort as he attempted to keep his hormone drugged friend from making an effort of meeting the floor in a more intimate matter.

That poor nose on his face had been broken often enough.

“Dude.”, Iggy eventually wheezed, giving him amused look that was laced with exasperation. “Slow down.”

Kyle swallowed thickly, a small string of spit sliding over his chin as his lips twisted into a sheepish smile. “Y-yeah…uh, s-sorry…”, he rasped, his tongue flickering outwards in a poor attempt to clean up. “G-guess m-my excitement got t-the better out o-of me.”

The Slav snorted at this, raising his bushy eyebrow at his words as far as they would go. Simultaneously, however, his lids went down. “That is the understatement of the year.”, he stated, his gloved hand reaching upwards to settle his friend’s shoulder. Only in the back of his mind did he note how warm he truly was. Almost as if he was running a fever… “You acted like a sailor that heard the Siren’s Call.”

The former Hero of Harran chuckled at that, one of his arms reaching upwards to rub the wet back of his neck. He did not retort, however, as he could not think of a jab to throw back. He was right, after all.

Sorry, bud...

After a few moments, Iggy merely sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, his jade irises having a peculiar glint in them when they reopened to stare at him with burning intensity. “I know you’re excited, buddy. I’d be too.”, he murmured so low it was a mere whisper. “Especially if I were forced to go through the things you were you were.” He brought up his second clothed hand to wrap his fingers around the second shoulder, though the grip was by far gentler than before. It seems that he had taken notice that this particular part of his body seemed to hold the most pain. “But you can’t just run off like those old-world kids who saw a candy shop across the street. You don’t wanna fall on your ass in front of the Big Boss, do ya? That wouldn’t be very dignified, wouldn’t it?”

Crane, once again, didn’t say anything. He did, however, breathlessly laugh, which was an admission of fault in itself.

At that, the soldier shook his head, looking annoyed for the split of a second before he attempted to give him a reassuring smile, patting the area just beside the throbbing flesh. “You can still walk, my friend. They’ll be patient enough to wait a few seconds more.”

Kyle swallowed, sheepishly glancing aside. He did not feel shame per se, he, as any other person, just hated being called out for something. Especially if he knew that the other was right. Thankfully, though, Iggy was a man who preferred to do that in private, and as such, they were still both far from any potential ears that had no business mingling in their business. “Uh…well…again…I’m excited, s-so…”

“Yeah, well, you can be excited without landing face-first in the dirt.”, Mr. Viktor huffed, rolling his eyes at just how much the taller man was shaking, and he knew that this time, the intensity had little to do with the sudden change of temperature or the agony he was suffering through. It was the instinctual desire to be close to his “master”, a word his subconsciousness seemed to merge with the word “mate” that was not associated with friendship. “And that wouldn’t do a good impression for the Baron, would it? Seeing his beast kissing the floor instead of him.”

The hybrid’s initial reaction was a nod, the fog that had infiltrated his mind lifting again to allow some sense to push through. “Y-yeah, okay. Y-you’re right..” That was…until he finally managed to process the last part. “W-wait…what?”

The soldier, however, merely smirked. “You heard me.”, he chuckled, his touch moving over his forearm and eventually resting on his elbow. “Don’t pretend you didn’t. You missed him, and I’m pretty sure he missed you too. In his…own way.”

I hope so. I pray that it is so. I miss him so much…

“So…”, letting go with his left hand, the younger brunette pointed down the path that led to the outside. “Take a deep, last breath, straighten your shirt, brush your hair back so it doesn’t look like a fucking bird’s nest, and go out there and meet him. I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”

“Y-yeah…r-right…”, the beast muttered, digging his teeth into the soft flesh of his cheek. Then, hesitantly, he reached upwards, using the sweat that had slickened his palm to flatten the unruly locks that dared to be out of place. “Thanks. R-really…”

“That’s what buds are for.”, Iggy smirked, his tone losing the comforting hum that it had before and returning to its smug drawl. “Now go. Meet your maker.”

Kyle nodded. Once, twice, thrice. Then, with this wonderfully dreadful man by his side, he did exactly that.

Pulling out of the embrace, he now took measured steps towards the entrance, both hands gripping the hem of his temporary shirt to pull it down and smoothen its material out to make himself look like he had at the very least a fragment of control over himself. He marched past the pillars, used boxes to aid in his task of climbing a set of metal stairs, and, at very last, grasped the handle of one last wooden barrier, straining with a grunt to push it aside, which eventually was a successful endeavor when his friend landed his own strength to set the small wheels that allowed it to be moved in the first place into motion.

And once it was out of the way, he stepped outside, now surrounded by forest and cars.

Master, I'm here.