[Room 311, very very late Monday night]
He was strapped down, so tightly he could barely feel his hands anymore, his breathing shallow from how much they compressed his ribs. All so he couldn't use his more-than-human strength to pull free, to run away from what he knew was coming. They'd punished him already; a laser that burned into the back of his eyes, painful and leaving no mark. Not that he thought they cared by this point, having no need for an independent, rebellious unit who'd already tasted freedom. Light-headed, he couldn't breathe deep enough, feeling cold, and his vision darkened by degrees...
When he woke there were people, other units - not his sibs, but familiar. They loomed over him, and he cringed reflexively as he realized who they were and why: he was in Psy-Ops again, the other units were X4s, psychics, TKs. They'd rape his mind, reach in and pull it inside out to pore over his thoughts, find out why he'd failed as a loyal soldier.
He could hear something, a small, helpless keening sound and he realized he was the one making it, unable to stop as they huddled in closer. The first tickling brush against his mind gave him barely any warning before they took him, their collective awareness eviscerating his mind, pinning it open. He screamed, desperately trying to keep hold of the part of himself he'd always been able to hide from them, but they weren't interested in leaving a viable, re-indoctrinated unit this time. He knew from how they tore his memories from him, that there'd be no more missions, no more seizures, no more hope of a life apart from Manticore.
Unit X5-494 would be remanded to forensics, a case study in a transgenic gone wrong. Euthanized, then cut into pieces, organs harvested for other, more worthy units injured in the field.
He didn't know how they'd found him. Or how they dragged him out of there without anyone noticing, back to the sprawling, sterilized military complex he'd lived in for most of his life. He just knew he was caught, and he'd never be free again.
Alec woke as though coming up for air, lungs aching to breath and taking in huge, aching swallows to appease them, the sensation of restraints tugging at his limbs fading slowly. Trembling, he tumbled out of his bed as soon as he believed he had some control over his own body, and still nearly tripped over his own feet as he headed to the bathroom in the near-dark of the early early morning.
A moment later, retching into the toilet, clinging to the edge of the porcelain bowl, he was chanting between breaths. "Just a dream, just a dream. A dream." It was consolation enough, knowing he was free, and he'd never go back there.
Minutes later, or maybe an hour, he couldn't tell, Alec felt the trembling return, threatening a seizure if he let it go too long. He used the counter to pull himself to his feet and stumbled back to his bed, rummaging for his pills and swallowing a handful just to be sure.
He collapsed back on his bed, trying to relax, and the trembling began to recede. His sigh of relief was cut short though as he felt something - a brush of something Other against his thoughts, like a warning. Completely still, he stared at the ceiling in horror as he wondered if he really was still at Fandom. Or maybe he was caught in his memories as they rifled through them, and any moment he'd be back on the table, buckled down and helpless.
Alec bit back a whimper and closed his eyes. If that was it, there was nothing - absolutely nothing - he could do now.
[OOC: Omg trauma! Srsly, it's not a nice read if you're sensitive to that kind of thing. Locked post, except to the roomie if he wants to notice Alec stumbling around in the dark. SP tomorrow though, as am going sleeeeepy.]
When he woke there were people, other units - not his sibs, but familiar. They loomed over him, and he cringed reflexively as he realized who they were and why: he was in Psy-Ops again, the other units were X4s, psychics, TKs. They'd rape his mind, reach in and pull it inside out to pore over his thoughts, find out why he'd failed as a loyal soldier.
He could hear something, a small, helpless keening sound and he realized he was the one making it, unable to stop as they huddled in closer. The first tickling brush against his mind gave him barely any warning before they took him, their collective awareness eviscerating his mind, pinning it open. He screamed, desperately trying to keep hold of the part of himself he'd always been able to hide from them, but they weren't interested in leaving a viable, re-indoctrinated unit this time. He knew from how they tore his memories from him, that there'd be no more missions, no more seizures, no more hope of a life apart from Manticore.
Unit X5-494 would be remanded to forensics, a case study in a transgenic gone wrong. Euthanized, then cut into pieces, organs harvested for other, more worthy units injured in the field.
He didn't know how they'd found him. Or how they dragged him out of there without anyone noticing, back to the sprawling, sterilized military complex he'd lived in for most of his life. He just knew he was caught, and he'd never be free again.
Alec woke as though coming up for air, lungs aching to breath and taking in huge, aching swallows to appease them, the sensation of restraints tugging at his limbs fading slowly. Trembling, he tumbled out of his bed as soon as he believed he had some control over his own body, and still nearly tripped over his own feet as he headed to the bathroom in the near-dark of the early early morning.
A moment later, retching into the toilet, clinging to the edge of the porcelain bowl, he was chanting between breaths. "Just a dream, just a dream. A dream." It was consolation enough, knowing he was free, and he'd never go back there.
Minutes later, or maybe an hour, he couldn't tell, Alec felt the trembling return, threatening a seizure if he let it go too long. He used the counter to pull himself to his feet and stumbled back to his bed, rummaging for his pills and swallowing a handful just to be sure.
He collapsed back on his bed, trying to relax, and the trembling began to recede. His sigh of relief was cut short though as he felt something - a brush of something Other against his thoughts, like a warning. Completely still, he stared at the ceiling in horror as he wondered if he really was still at Fandom. Or maybe he was caught in his memories as they rifled through them, and any moment he'd be back on the table, buckled down and helpless.
Alec bit back a whimper and closed his eyes. If that was it, there was nothing - absolutely nothing - he could do now.
[OOC: Omg trauma! Srsly, it's not a nice read if you're sensitive to that kind of thing. Locked post, except to the roomie if he wants to notice Alec stumbling around in the dark. SP tomorrow though, as am going sleeeeepy.]