Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Evelyn was laughing at something her daughter had babbled whilst staring right at him, her auburn hair pulled into a soft bun at the base of her head to be out of reach of the 9 month old in her arms. Her husband walked over, with shaggy brown hair, tanned skin from working in the sun, and silver eyes full of love, Marcus and Evelyn had been married for 2 years. And between all of them, John stuck out like a sore thumb, reminding him that his Fiancé was on another business trip and due back in a week or two.

As if only just remembering John was there, Evelyn looked at him, “lunch was amazing, but I need to get little Emma here down for a nap, I’ll be back later for dinner with everyone else.” She gesturing towards the infant, then, with her blue eyes that the both of them shared, asked “will Simon be joining us next week?” 

Marcus gave her a look, but Evelyn just blinked at John, her lips pulled into a small smile even though her eyes were hard. She had never liked Simon, especially with his work schedule, raising suspicion of him possible having a family with another woman.

John shook his head, glancing at the simple yet elegant silver band on this left ring finger as he fiddled with a tea towel, “no, he told me yesterday he’d be back in two weeks give or take. You know how it is Evelyn, I know as much as you do.”

She sighed as she adjusted Emma in her hold, now propped on her hip, as she walked towards him. “I do, I’m sorry John but I need to look after you, it’s an older sister duty.”

He smiled back tensely as they shared a brief half-hug, Emma protesting as Marcus started talking about napping, and how he’d take care of her for the night as Evelyn came back for dinner with the rest of the family. John saw them out, waving as they backed out of the driveway.

Sighing, he turned around and started cleaning the house, anything to distract his mind from overthinking. He knew that Simon wasn’t like that, even as Evelyn had tried to convince him time and time again. At some point even Gwen had started somewhat believing her. Their middle sister sharing sentiments about needing to look after him, saying that there was more than enough evidence. Boasting about taking care of their little brother, even if ‘taking care’ of him didn’t actually help him. Though he supposed he really enjoyed their occasional lunches and dinners.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he walked to the kitchen, he glanced at the time and saw that it was only 2:25pm. Too early to start prepping for dinner, so he went about tidying the dining room, setting out plates and glasses. When that was done he went about cleaning the rest of the house.

Before he knew it, nearly two hours had passed and he could start cooking, but as he walked towards the kitchen he saw something. Or rather-

Someone.

He froze. This someone was dressed in all black, wore a face covering, and held a pistol. As they continued to silently walk in, not seeing John as he hid, he saw more of them. They were rummaging through he and Simon’s possesions, stashing what they thought valuable into bags, though keeping one empty for some reason. Had John been so up in his head that he didn’t hear them come in? Or were they that silent?

He saw his phone on the kitchen counter, he hoped that they wouldn’t take it, that they would skip over it in their stealing. John held his breath as the one he first spotted crept closer towards him, glancing at his phone and swiftly pocketing it. He groaned mentally as he watched, his only hope now was that someone had seen them come in and called for help.

He curled into himself in silent fear, the training Simon had insisted he learn kicking in but not doing much. He tried to slow his breathing and be as silent as possible, hoping that it worked. John glanced around, not seeing anything he could defend himself with unless he wanted to use a withering plant as a projectile. He silently swore at himself for not putting his phone in his pocket.

He was pressed flat against the wall he was behind, John knew that they knew he was here, his car was outside for crying out loud.  John had put the TV on for background noise and had brought out food in prep for dinner. He was going through his options when one of them stepped into the room he was in, John froze in terror as the mysterious person aimed a gun at him. He opened his mouth to say something- anything - before he shot at him. Pain erupted from his left shoulder as he was slammed into the wall at the impact, his his right hand immediately going to the injured area as he cried out. They rushed him and swept his feet from under him, unable to do anything in his panic. He glanced up as he realised his attacker was right above him with the bag he noticed they kept empty.

John tried to shout as they shoved it over his head, tried pushing him away, before something hit his head- hard. And he fell to his side, world fizzing out, he whimpered, curling into himself and covering his ring. His world went black and his head was hit again.

—

Evelyn had just picked up Gwen for the dinner at John’s house, nothing special was happening to her knowledge, the family just wanted to meet there this time. Her daughter was at home with Marcus, who had insisted that she have some time without their little girl, to give her some much needed space. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as she came to a stop at a red light.

“How was lunch Eve?” Gwen asked, her deep brown hair loose around her shoulders, brown eyes glanced in her direction as she paused her drumming.

“It was nice, we spoke about work, daycare, the usual stuff.” She continued driving as the light turned green, “though he says Simon won’t be home for another two weeks.”

Gwen sighed, picking at her nails, “he still won’t listen? I mean look, all the signs are there.”

“I know, but-“ she paused. They never had given John’s Fiancé a chance, only saw his complicated work schedule and saw the worst. “I was thinking. We actually need to give Simon a chance. He might actually have a whack work schedule, like a spy.”

Her sister rolled her eyes, giggling a little. “If he’s a spy then I found the cure for memory loss.”

Evelyn shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she turned towards John’s neighborhood. “Change of topic, do you think mum and dad will be late again?”

“Oh for sure. Mum’s probably dragging dad out of the house by now. We’ll be first as usual. Do you think it’ll be roast for dinner?”

Evelyn chuckled at her answer, their father never saw eye to eye with John regarding his sexuality, especially when he brough Simon home for the first time. She could even go as far to say that if it weren’t for their mother, their father would have disowned John the moment he came out. “I hope so, his are the best.”

They chuckled as they drove. It was only a few minutes later that they reached his street, she pulled over and parked further than usual as she stared in shock.

John’s house was surrounded by police cars and officers, crime scene tapping off the entire thing. “Gwen, call mum now. Stay in here, I’m gonna try and figure out what happened.”

She started getting out of the car when she glanced at her little sister. Gwen was pale- eyes wide and her hands shook. Evelyn came round to the other side, opening the door and crouching down, she grabbed her hands, making Gwen look at her. “Stay here, I’ll find out what happened with John and come straight back- I promise.”

She only stood when Gwen nodded, pulling out her phone as she called their mum. Evelyn turned and walked towards her little brothers house. An officer spotted her, tensing up and held up a hand. “Sorry ma’am, only immediate family can come any closer.”

She stood still, shock still making her mind race as she told him, “that’s my brothers house. John MacTavish? Am I able to know what happened?”

The officers entire stance changed immediately, “I cannot tell you the details, but your brother isn’t here. There was a break-in and his neighbor called it in. Do you know who saw him last?”

She nodded, nothing really processing as she heard that her little brother was kidnapped. “Me and my husband were here for lunch a few hours ago- he wasn’t acting strange or anything. I have no idea what happened.”

The officer nodded as he turned and grabbed the attention of someone in more casual clothing. She walked over and introduced herself as the detective who had started looking into what happened and getting statements. “Are his mother and father coming?”

“Yes, we were coming around for lunch, me, my sister, and our parents. We had planned to meet here. John’s Fiancé is out of the country at the moment,” Evelyn swore, “am I able to tell him?”

The detective showed no reaction, “we’ll need statements from the rest of your family, and with his Fiancé, I’d advise you to try and contact him as soon as possible, he might be able to give us some more information.”

They spoke for a while longer before Evelyn went to grab Gwen, who stood with their parents who had only just arrived, to bring them over. Oddly enough, their father was pale as death, shaking as he spoke to someone. Her mother and sister didn’t look any better. Evelyn stood around, not knowing what to do as everyone raced around her trying to figure out what had gone on. She watched as they took pictures of an opened window on the side of the house, even from where she stood she could see the damage the lock had sustained.

Evelyn shuddered despite the balmy wind in the late spring. The sun had set only an hour ago but it felt like she had never felt the warmth of the sunrays as she crossed her arms. Gone. Johnny was gone.

She went to go lean against the fence so that she wasn’t standing, her legs had turned to jelly as the reality hit her. She over heard some tid-bits from the officers.

Signs of a brutal attack. Theft. No sign as to where they went. Only a logo left behind with an encrypted message on the back.

She pulled out her phone to do anything with her hands. She went to send Marcus a message but- what would she even say? She couldn’t gather her thoughts right now. Let alone send a coherent message about this. Gwen walked up to her then, still pale.

“They said we can leave, we probably should be leaving, I just-“ she took a deep, uneven breath, “I don’t know what to do.”

“You can come back to mine.” Evelyn suggested, not wanting her little sister to be alone as her roommate was out on holiday. “Marcus will understand, and if he doesn’t he can sleep somewhere else.”

Gwen gave her a tight smile, “that would be nice, I just need to grab a few things from mine.”

So there they stood, waiting for their parents to be done. Evelyn stared at John’s house, wondering how this was even provoked. Nothing like this had happened in their town in years. It didn’t make any sense.

Their parents weren’t much longer, and together they went to their cars. None of them said a word other than wishing them well and to talk tomorrow, and then there were off.

—

About an hour later, Evelyn and Gwen made it home, after stopping at Gwen’s apartment for clothing and essentials, they stopped for food and ate in the car park in silence. Emma was fast asleep and Marcus was washing up in the kitchen, he had known that Gwen was crashing for a few days but didn’t know why.

“Are you girls okay?” He immediately stopped everything he was doing, quickly drying off his hands and rushing over to them, hands going to rest on her arms. “You guys look like death warmed over, surely dinner wasn’t that tough.”

“John is missing.” Evelyn murmured, her eyes going glossy as she stared at her husband.

He paled, glancing between them as Gwen went off to the guest room, saying that she needed some time alone. The two of them were to closest of them all, having only been born 2 years apart whilst Evelyn was 7 years older than her. As soon as they heard the door click shut, Marcus enveloped her in a deep hub, rubbing her back as she finally let herself cry.

He didn’t push for anything as he lead her to their room, making her shower, and putting on some random movie for them to watch as she sat there silently. Marcus just stayed as a comforting presence as the day washed over her. Finally, she whispered, “people broke in, I overheard that it was a robbery and kidnapping. They took him. They have absolutely no idea where to even begin looking, John’s security cameras didn’t capture anything about them, no licence plate, identifiable features- nothing.”

She whispered, as if in a trance, her face remained blank, having only stopped crying after sitting down and leaning into Marcus’s embrace. He rubbed her arm, “there is nothing you can do my love, I’m so sorry. I know what he was to you guys.”

“You say that as if he’s already dead.” She whimpered.

“I didn’t mean for that, it didn’t come out right,” he sat quietly for a few moments, “we can try our hardest tomorrow, get some sleep dear, you’re going to need it. I’ll take care of Emma alright? Work gave me a week off due to not having any contracts at the moment.”

They shared a quick kiss as they prepared for sleep, her mind oddly quiet as she drifted off.

Chapter Text

All John could focus on was the pain radiating from his shoulder and how hard it was to breath as he was shoved around, man-handled into a chair. He was too weak to do anything but listen, the bag still over his head, now tied around his neck just enough to make it difficult to breath- not being able to take a deep breath. His limbs were heavy, he had no clue as to why, John suspected that they had injected him with something to make him easier to move.

His body was sore, mostly radiating from his left arm for obvious reasons. John had no idea how long it had been since they took him, only remembering tid bits of moments. Mostly of transport and the feeling of this body jolting as they moved. He no doubt had bruises from that.

They shoved him this way and that to make his body sit properly in the chair they had propped him in, strapping his arms and legs down in multiple spots with something harsh and rough, already itching him as he sat still, head dangling forward. Slowly, he started hearing what they were saying, straining his hearing in order to do so.

Are you sure this is him? 

Yes, this’ll be the perfect trap for Ghost. We just gotta bust him up a bit then send him a picture, have fun with it y'know?

How in the world were they going to do that- and more importantly- who in the world were they talking about? Sure Simon had used that occasionally, but he’d be in a deep conversation on the phone, probably talking about some old nickname he was given in school, he told him it was because he would scare those around him due to his quiet nature. But surely they had the wrong person.  And what did they mean by the perfect trap?

So many questions raced through his head as he gathered more information. He had no idea where he was nor the day anymore from how long he could feel he was out for, not hearing anything from outside, and it wasn’t like his attackers were going to just blurt out where they had taken him. He heard footsteps approach him as the bag was loosened from his neck and pulled from his head.

John was finally able to take a deep breath as it was removed, revealing where they were. The room was dimly lit, which made it easier for his eyes to adjust. Concert walls, a mostly dirt floor with wood paneling here and there, a singular LED light above him and one singular table with an assortment of things on it was all he could see when one of them grabbed his chin to move his head in order to make John look at them.

“Ah, he’s awake. Let’s see what we have to work with here,” a rough voice announced, quickly noticing it came from the man who gripped his chin. John only heard two voices, but as he got a better look around there were three other people in the room. The man who grabbed at his chin had greasy short black hair, pale skin littered with scars, and dressed in some sort of dark uniform. He grinned down at John, revealing uneven yellowing teeth as he analysed him, turning he head left and right.

The other two in the room stood behind him, a tall lanky one, and a muscular man who had his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Both had the same uniform on, the former had messy blond hair that reached his collar bone, peircing blue eyes and blotchy skin. The latter was tanner than the other two, bald with brown eyes that looked at him with a bored expression, as if he were dragged there and had better things to do.

“What a pity it’ll be to stain his skin,” the one in front said, gripping his face harder. “We have a few questions for you before we start our activities.”

John gave him a look, he could tell that his body was only getting slightly strong enough to even speak, let alone answer whatever they wanted. It was an effort alone to keep his head up as it was let go. 

“We expect full cooperation or we’ll do worse, do you understand?” It seemed like this one was the leader, hands on his hips as he spoke. He then gestured towards the muscular man, who turned to the table and grabbed a small knife. John felt the adrenaline kick in as it glinted in the LED light over his head.

As the leader was handed the knife, he looked John dead in the eyes. “What do you know about the Ghost.”

More a statement than a question, and he tried to muster enough bravado as he croaked out, “have no idea who yur talkin’ bout..”

Wrong answer. He brought the knife down to his forearm, gashing deep just above where they had strapped his left hand down. John shouted in pain as his body jolted, shoulder screaming in agony as whatever they had shoved into his wound grinded against the tender flesh, blood running from both injuries. He panted as the knife was wiped against his own shirt, then asked another question.

“Well you might know his name then? We did some digging and found his first name. Simon? What about him?”

His brain short-circuited, “w-wha.. what about him?”

He grinned, leaning down and bracing both hands against John’s forearms, aggravating the open wound in the process. He breathed deeply as he leaned his head back into his chair, looking him dead in the eyes as whatever strength he gathered was squashed again in pain. “Perfect.. now. Do you know why you’re here?”

He shook his head slowly, a scoff sounded from behind the man leaning in his face, whose mouth fell into a thin line, he then stood up and walked back to the table, putting the knife down. “Well. To put it simply, we want Ghost. The fuckers too powerful and we need him out of commision, if you know what I mean,” he chuckled, “you were the best candidate to get him close enough. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

The man mockingly bowed to him, turned on his heel and walked out. Calling out behind him, “don’t rough him up too badly Tom!” The muscular man followed him closely, leaving only the tall lanky dude in the room with him as the metal door clicked shut.

He dragged his gaze over to him, Tom he knew now. He strode over to the table, looking at what was held there. As if contemplating his choices, he raised his hand to his chin, humming. Tom glanced over at him, smirked, and reached towards a hammer, “it’s time to have some fun.”

He felt adrenaline shoot through his being as he walked over, looking over John with intrigue. He swung the hammer around, stopping just before him. Tom didn’t say anything as he raised the hammer high and struck him.

—

Ghost had just dismissed the recruits he was watching over when Roach walked up to him. He crossed his arms as he acknowledged his sergeant, who nodded and said with a raspy unused voice, “Gaz was wondering if you’d join for drinks tonight.”

Being a man of not many words, something having injured his vocal cords years ago, that was all Roach would say. He got the full picture though, they didn’t have anything on tomorrow, no training, maybe a bit of paperwork, and no meetings to his knowledge. But Ghost had better things to be doing than drinking surrounded by drunk recruits and soldiers alike, hollering at whatever gossip had made its rounds.

“No. I have paperwork to deal with, need to check in with Soap.” Only Price knew about Johnny, not the nickname he had given him around others, for privacy to his life and more especially for safety. He only trusted Price enough with that sort of information, he also needed it for Ghosts file. Roach gave him an incredulous look as he nodded and walked off without fuss. 

Ghost sighed and walked towards his room for a shower before dinner. Johnny hadn’t returned his calls for a few days now, only sending a short message or two in reply. It wasn’t like Johnny but he simply didn’t have the time to look into it. He wasn’t worried, work had probably picked up and didn’t leave him much time to do anything other than the basics. Hell, Ghost would go silent on him for weeks if the mission called for it, it was well deserved, even if he relayed Johnny for it tenfold. He understood how it felt.

Ghost was nearly at his room when a recruit ran up to him. He stood at attention, waiting as he was acknowledged. The recruit stood with his hands behind his back as he announced, “Captain Price sent me to inform you about a mission debrief at 1900, sir.”

He glanced down at his watch, he had about 15 minutes. He nodded at the recruit and dismissed him as he changed directions, now heading towards the meeting room. Johnny would have to wait, although it tugged at the back of his mind to check in, something felt off in his gut about the whole situation but he wouldn’t nag.

He got to the meeting early as usual, and took a seat. It didn’t take long for Gaz and Roach to come in, one after the other. Gaz was talking about how this ruined their plans for the night, ‘not that he was complaining’, he added when he saw Ghost sat there. Roach offered some short condolences, quickly quieting down as Price walked in holding a laptop and a file manila folders, no doubt for them. 

As Price began speaking about the basics of the mission, he handed them each a folder. “Laswells people got a message from an unknown person, they claim to be some sort of group handling drugs and weapons. These people claim to have someone one of us cares about. We have no proof of such claims but for this mission you must not contact them. I know it’s contradictory but it’s to keep them safe, we don’t know what they’re capable of at this moment.”

Gaz groaned from his seat as he opened the thin folder. Ghost skimmed over his own as Price went about setting up the laptop to video chat with Laswell. They didn’t have much information at all, barely a location, which was obtained from the number the message was sent from. A burner phone no doubt. The people they were after in this mission were smugglers of weapons and drugs, and they had no reason to take someone as collateral to get the Task Force nearby.

As Laswell's face popped up on the screen, she also looked stressed, her focus drawn to them as the connection solidified. “Hello boys. Sorry for the short notice, this is urgent, my team did a bit more digging about a recent group who made themselves known and found something.”

Price nodded, crossing his arms as he faced her. “It’s no worries Laswell, what did you find?”

“They’re standalone, they work for themselves. Whilst they do deal with drugs, they don’t trade for weapons or anything of the sort. They trade for humans. We don’t know what for, although we assume to experiment on them. So whoever they have stowed away from civilization, they are in danger.”

Ghost stiffened in his seat, gripping the papers in his hand. He watched Price run his hands over face, “so we have a time limit on this operation?”

Laswell nodded, “I know you don’t have the information you need, but you set out for the location written down tomorrow at nightfall. It’s best for them to not see and the dark is the best cover. We have high hopes that they’re in the area.”

Price grabbed a paper from the table, scanning it for the location written down. “Russia? And you’re sure they have no connections to Makarov?”

Laswell confirmed. Gaz groaned again, questioning why they had to go back to russian when he had just completed a solo mission there a few weeks ago. Price reprimanded him, “this is our job, you signed up for this.”

Roach glanced over at his friend, amusement in his eyes as he went back to looking at the papers. Gaz stayed quiet for the rest of the meeting. They went over what plans they could come up with. Laswell had already sent out a team to look for any suspicious activity, they had yet to report back about anything.

The meeting was dismissed another hour later, a rushed plan in place and a set departure for the following day. Ghost left quickly and went to his room to finally shower. He wanted to call and check in with Johnny but knew he shouldn’t, so he sent a quick message once he was inside with the door locked behind him.

Can’t contact anyone for a while going somewhere with no signal, talk as soon as able.

With that, he set his phone down and shut it off, no need for it when the mission needed them to go no contact. He hid it in a different spot, grabbing a bag and started packing. He would go over maintenance on his weapons tomorrow. Ghost sighed, he could finally shower off the days dirt. He still had recruits to look over tomorrow, granted it would be a shorter session due to needing to get ready for the mission.

He walked into the bathroom adjacent to his room, a plus for being a high ranking officer, that or Price pulled some strings to get him this. Either way he didn’t care that much. Ghost glanced at his reflection, he needed a haircut. His blond hair was getting just long enough to almost be out of regulation, he stared at the scars littering his face, one running from the corner of his eye and ran through his lips, it was a miracle he could see. Other scars lay on his face, one raced down the side of his neck from someone who had tried to get his artery a few years ago. A few moles here and there that Johnny traced all the same, saying that he could never get tired of looking poking at Ghost. He had covered Johnny's eyes as he protested, laughing the entire time.

Ghost turned from the mirror and shook his head as he stepped into the warm spray of water and started scrubbing at his skin. He had started thinking, surely it was just a coincidence that Johnny’s work would get busy around the time of this being brought to their attention, he hoped that nothing bad had happened to him.

He finished quickly, stepping out of the shower, it hit him how tired he was from the last few days. He wasn't usually this tired after a few days of training but it might be how distant Johnny was, the worry it caused him. He doubted anything was wrong, as he hadn’t been contacted by anyone yet. Ghost also realised that he missed dinner, but wasn’t in any mood to go find something to eat.

As he laid down, it didn’t take him long to fall asleep- for once.

Chapter Text

John glanced towards the man who lay next to him in bed, his blond eyelashes fanning his cheekbones as he slept. Scars graced along his face, and he reached out to trace them as he had many times before. The man stirred and opened his eyes, a beautiful brown tinted golden in the rising sunlight greeted him. He smiled down at John, lips tugging at the scar that ran through them. John smiled back, cupping his face and staring into his eyes as if they had all the time in the world to lay there with each other, he never wanted this to end. His ring glinted in the rising sun, its matching counterpart on the hand that raised to meet his. John closed his eyes and rested his head between the man’s shoulder and neck, he fit so perfectly it was as if they were carved out of the same stone, made so that they would lay perfectly for all eternity. Legs intertwined, wrapped in the arms of his love, John felt tired again despite only having just woken up.

He chuckled down at John, wrapping his arms tighter around him, a kiss pressed against his hair and as John drifted off, he heard the man whisper in his ear.

“I love you Johnny.”

***

John jolted awake, the memory or dream already chased from his mind as the darkness of his room greeted him as it always did. He could barely remember what it was about but he remembered the feeling of comfort. He missed the man in his dreams, Simon. He felt his throat tighten at the thought and tried to shake it away as he glanced around. They had taken his ring at some point and he felt empty without it, the only comfort he could’ve had in this wretched place.

He had no way to tell how long he had been there, the light was always off unless they came in, he just sat in a corner and tried to alleviate the pain when he could. John had grown used to the dark, grown to love it compared to what light brought. They gave him stale food and water only when needed, he went days without food, water given to him only so that he would die of dehydration. His mouth was almost constantly dry, lips cracked more often than not. He could feel the stubble frowning on his face which irritated his skin, but he could only guess that he was there for at most 2 weeks.

Pain danced throughout his body, ribs ached as he breathed, their shoddy attempts at stitching up his more severe injuries to avoid him bleeding out itched deep in his skin. Left arm rendered useless due to the countless times they enjoyed reveling his pain as they cut and bruised over previous injuries. John had screamed and yelled until he couldn’t anymore, his throat scratchy in its own pain that he couldn’t itch.

Today was no different, although he didn’t recognise the man who stood now in front of him. John had curled into himself in the corner, body having been alert since he heard the door scraping open, covering what injuries he could from the frigid still air. The man’s hair was slicked back, his face covered in shadows as he stared down at him unmoving. It unnerved John, more than when he was dragged from his corner and brought to the chair or another room. Could only remember being chained to the wall by his neck as someone injecting a syringe full of a clear liquid into his veins.

He could never remember what happened after that. 

Only that his very blood screamed when they dragged him back, an itch settling so deep into his skin he would make himself bleed to get to it. Rather than the constant scratching bringing pain, it brought only more need to get under his skin. Blood crusted under his nails more than once, scabbed over scratch marks marred his body nearly everywhere. Blood stained the floor of where he sat for hours on end, he couldn’t find the energy or motivation to move. 

But it unnerved him in a way that he just stood and stared at him, the light kept off but the door left ajar. His skin crawled with the intensity of the gaze he couldn’t see, but could almost feel the emotions of it in the air. John’s body tensed as he walked towards him, body sluggish and slow as he neared. Then, with more strength than shown, he hoisted John up by his arm. Agony shot through him as he croaked out a yelp of pain. 

He was shoved against the wall, hands wrapped around his neck that grew tighter as John struggled, trying with all his might to pry the hands away from his throat as adrenaline pumped through his veins. He felt the man’s sharp nails break the skin on his neck, blood leaking over his hands and down John’s body. The man pulled him forwards and just as quickly shoved him back into the wall behind him, he felt his head crack against the wall as he felt the air in his lungs sizzle out in the struggle. Terror filled him as he desperately tried to look into the man’s eyes despite the ache ricocheting in his skull.

He was grinning ear to ear, pupils blown wide enough he could barely see anything of the original colour. It was uncanny, but he couldn’t dwell on it long as black spots graced his vision, his frantic shoving at the unmoving body slowed, he faintly heard people shove into the room. 

He felt the hands release him as he fell to the floor, going limp as he tried to get air back into his lungs, his throat pulsed with heat, every cough shook him as his body screamed in pain. He heard shouting around him, but he was so tired. He closed his eyes as he lay awkwardly on the floor, not caring anymore about his injuries. 

—

John awoke maybe a few hours later, strapped to a bed in a room that felt too cold on his skin.  He knew before blinking his eyes open, that he had never been here before, slowly getting used to the bright fluorescent lights beating down on him. He heard other people in the room shuffling about, but couldn’t move his head to get a good look at them. It smelled like a cheap doctors office where you question the legalities behind it running, which worried John more than he wanted to admit.

He overheard them talking about medical terms and how his current bodily state could handle it. John had no idea what they were referencing but he hoped it didn’t mean cutting him open.

His skin was covered in goosebumps as he shivered in the frigid air, feeling the dry blood flaking off. He looked around to the best of his abilities, straining his eyes to where he heard them talking, even though it caused his headache to worsen as he did so.

One of them startled when they noticed him awake and staring right at them while his head was strapped down. She put down the clipboard she was holding and walked over to someone else, speaking in hushed tones once they realised he had been eavesdropping on them. Whoever she was speaking to nodded and left the room. He didn’t see where he went.

The woman walked back to the other people in the room, quickly tugging some gloves on and instructing the others to get ready. Get ready for what?

Then- finally -she walked over to him and spoke with guilt mixed with excitement, “we don’t have any general anaesthesia so work with us alright? We got paralytics but they might wear off at some point, so that's why you’re strapped down, we finally got permission to try this out. It’s so exhilarating!"

As she continued gushing about whatever they were about to do, panic surged in his body, he was suddenly all too aware of the straps. Multiple held his arms and legs down way too tightly, one on his forehead and neck, and another strapping his upper torso down. He couldn’t even move his fingers no matter how hard he tried. Someone he couldn’t see stopped her rambling and urged her to start the injection.

They spoke to each other for a few minutes, John had gathered that it was her first time doing anything practical. She couldn’t have been any older than himself, her hands shook slightly as he neared him, finding a suitable spot that wasn’t marred or wounded on his right inner forearm. She murmured that she was injecting the experimental serum now.

He barely felt the prick of the needle as she pushed the liquid in, at first he didn’t feel anything. As they stood around him waiting for any sign of reaction, about to end this so-called experiment. John suddenly felt his blood start feeling like it burned him from the inside out. They had attached monitors on him and he heard the beeping start racing as John started to panic.

He couldn’t do anything as his blood turned on him, he felt it everywhere and could do nothing to stop it. His fingernails burned, eyes feeling too hot as the heat inside of him started climbing into near deathly conditions. He felt every pulse of his blood throughout his body just as much as he felt tears beginning to form, slowly trailing down the side of his face.

John realised that he could feel his own heartbeat begin to stutter, even breathing had begun to hurt, throat raw and aching something terrible as he lay there. It felt as if they had injected an acid into him, and he would be none the wiser if he died on that table. Strapped down, lost to the world, and surrounded by those who inflicted torture onto him in glee. He wished for death, wished for its cool sweet embrace. 

He couldn’t make anything of the world around him anymore, he didn’t know if he was making any sound or movement. He couldn’t hear or see anything as the heat bubbled in his blood. But he could feel everything.

He felt people prying at him, taking straps off as he began convulsing, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He felt them tear away his torn and bloodied shirt. Feel them prod his skin as soon as he stopped convulsing, muscles screaming as agony ripped through every fiber of his being. He arched off the table as the heat climbed even more, then pure nothingness.

—

He awoke back in the damp, dark room that they had been housing him in. But this time, there were some sheets that they had laid him out on. Someone was sitting in the chair in the center of the room, although they weren’t strapped down, he rather sat backwards, leaning on the back of it as he played with a phone.

John’s entire body ached, although he was back to a normal temperature, a bit on the warmer side still but nothing like the fire that had tore through him earlier. He felt sluggish as he turned his head to get a better look at the other person in the room. It wasn’t one of the three who came in regularly. This man was enamoured in the device, his buzz cut had grown out, and he wore an altered version of the uniform he saw everywhere. He looked up at his movement, showing a small smile that showed more than he let on.

“Hey there sleeping beauty, sorry ‘bout earlier. They used the wrong injection and too much of it, and in doing so you had died on that table. Luckily they brought you back so once you’re back to normal they’ll try again. I’m Matthew.”

John just stared at him, he had said that so casually. He had died. John wished they hadn’t revived him. And they were gonna try again? Why? What had he done?

Then he finally noticed the phone he held, Matthew noticed the change in attention and held it up, showing him the screen. “This thing? It’s yours, we’ve combed through it but they wouldn’t find anything useless,” he frowned as if John had committed a crime. “No biggie though, it was just enough to confirm we have the right guy and to keep the Task Force off our trail for a while, but it gets boring so I wanted to spice it up.”

John was staring at the screen. A message thread with Simon, he couldn’t read what was said but on his side it was short responses, Simon had sent a few messages to him with the latest being the shortest. John hoped that he wasn’t mad at him, hoped he wasn’t in trouble. He brought his gaze back up to Matthew, throat still too raw to even whisper.

He stared at John, then shook his head, “forgot they told me you couldn’t speak due to the damage done to your throat, we had someone escape and whoever had seen you last didn’t lock the door. We’ll manage him accordingly. Onto some more exciting news.” 

Matthew grinned as he held up the phone, as if taking a picture of his battered and injured body. John had no energy to protest. 

“This lovely portrait is gonna do wonders to them. Sure it’ll give us less time but we’ll deal with you before then.” His eyes were carefully blank as he typed away on John's phone. 

Once Matthew had finished whatever he was doing, he pocketed his phone and stood, knees cracking as he did so. “I’ll make sure you get some water soon and that Xavier doesn’t do too much damage before the next session. I have business to attend too so I’ll send someone else in to see you.”

With one last look at him, one that was full with something that had John’s gut curling in discomfort, something that he wished he didn’t understand, Matthew was gone. Leaving him to lay there in the dark as pain laced through him.

It didn’t take long for the door to open again, two people carrying a bucket between them made John’s stomach drop as water lapped at the sides. They turned the light on and shut the door behind them as one of them got everything situated, placing a few items on the table. Together, they dragged John from where he lay and sat him in the chair, not bothering with the restraints this time.

They didn’t say anything as they grabbed both a cloth and a cup from where they had been placed. They slowly fed him the water even as he gathered that they wished to do worse but that they were under orders to actually care for him. The water tasted both amazing and full of dirt at the same time. Once they deemed that he had drunk enough, they dunked the cloth into the water and dragged it harshly against his skin. Scrubbing the dried blood off even as they tugged at the scabbed skin on his lacerations over his body. It hurt, but he felt more refreshed than he had in ages. The cool water running in droplets over his body helped the simmering heat that remained under his skin. 

Once the pair were done, they dragged him back to the corner and laid him down again. As they prepared to leave, one of them grabbed the last remaining item on the table and tossed it towards him. It was some stale bread that had gotten dirty from the messy condition of the room. He stared at it as they shut the light off and locked the door behind them. Leaving him alone again.

As he lay there with no appetite but he knew that if he didn’t eat this, he had no idea when the next time he would get food would be. So he used what energy he had to sit up and lean against the wall, grabbing the bread and eating it slowly as he processed everything. They had his phone, which meant they had all his information. Matthew seemed to know more than he let on, but his body shivered as he remembered how he had looked at John.

Then there was the matter of him dying. Obviously he had been revived but he wished they hadn’t. He hated the entire situation. He had never felt worse in his entire life, body physically and mentally. He had no concept of time, no idea whether people knew where he was or if they had given up looking for him. The thought made him sick, but it could be the bread he had just finished eating settling in his stomach that brought the nausea on. Although he had gathered that a Task Force was coming here, he couldn’t say it was for him. There seemed to be more people here than they let on. He shut his eyes, suddenly too tired to think about anything else other than Simon.

He imagined the brown eyes that he adored, the scared skin that had faint freckles. The way that John had seen him last, saying goodbye at the airport as he was called away to work as usual. It was the thought of Simon that kept him going, helped him sleep as he imagined them sleeping together, it hurt but it reminded him that he was alive. Even if he didn’t know how much longer he would be.