Chapter Text
BANG!
Dan whimpers, covering his ears as a smooth, slightly melodic voice speaks through the door.
"Come on out, baby," a man's voice calls. "You can't hide forever, you know."
That might be true, but Dan's not coming out until he absolutely has to.
"Do the right thing, doll," he continues. "If you come out now, you won't be punished- I promise. You're going back one way or another, so don't make me come in there, Feathers." Dan feels anger course through his veins at the nickname.
"Fuck off!" he snarls, jumping involuntarily as there's another loud hit against the door. Dan can't see a thing inside this dark closet, so he focuses on the sounds outside instead.
"Grey, you have to the count of three," the man warns, and Dan hears a gun cock. He furrows his brow in a glare and crosses his arms stubbornly. "One, two- fuck it!" Dan instinctively drops to the ground as the man shatters the lock before yanking the door open, causing harsh white light to stream into the small closet. Strong hands grasp his arms, and Dan screams and kicks blindly. Cold metal handcuffs secure his wrists behind his back, and he falls as someone shoves him forward.
"Let me up!" Dan cries, twisting his body in a vain attempt to escape.
"Not so tough now, are you, Feathers?" the man muses, kneeling in front of Dan. Dan growls, working up a mouthful of saliva and spitting at him. The name tag on his pristine white lab coat- a colour Dan has learned to hate- reads Jacob, and he wears an arrogant smirk on his his pale face, blond hair falling over his face stupidly. "You never really were- I've been watching your reports for a couple weeks. Disappointing, really. Everyone has always spoken rather highly of you, but oh, well."
"Then why do you keep me locked up, if I'm so disappointing?" Dan asks, shaking his hair from his eyes as he pulls against the handcuffs. He can feels the wounds that have scarcely healed from the last time reopening, but he doesn't care- he just wants out. "Surely I'm more trouble than I'm worth."
"It's not what you've done or what you're doing, lovely," Jabob replies, resting a gloved hand against Dan's cheek and ignoring how he shudders. "It's what you could do, what could happen to you. The world out there, Grey, would laugh at you. They would mock you, hurt you. You'd be a freak show in their eyes. If they're kind, they'll kill you. If not, they'll put you on display for others to gawk and laugh at. You wouldn't survive out there, baby." He stands, grabbing a hold of Dan's upper arms and lifting him to his feet. "We're protecting you- understand?"
"I guess," Dan replies quietly, looking down. Jacob signals another white coated man, who walks over and takes Dan.
"Again, Grey?" he asks, sighing. "I hate doing this, you know."
"It's not my fault I'm a maniac," Dan replies, walking with him willingly.
"I know, but if you could at least calm down from time to time," the man suggests gently. "I really don't like to do this to you." He lets go of Dan to scan his badge against a door.
PJ, his name tag reads. He's not very big or strong, but Dan has taken a liking to him in the two weeks since he started working here. PJ has been kind- something most of the others aren't- and doesn't hurt him or force him into things just because he can. Dan hasn't felt any desire to hurt him either, the way he has with the others, and coming from Dan, that's like love.
Dan follows PJ into the room, wincing at the white light and letting PJ unlock his wrists before sitting in the reclining metal chair. PJ attaches electrodes to Dan's temples, chest and hips, and Dan shudders involuntarily as PJ's gloved hands brush his skin, staring ahead as PJ tightens straps around his wrists, ankles and midsection.
"I'm taking off thirty seconds because you didn't fight me when I brought you here, nor when I hooked you up," PJ tells him, resting his hand on a lever on the far wall.
"Thank you," Dan replies quietly.
"Of course," PJ says. "Fifteen seconds, Grey- that's all you have to handle. One, two, three." He flips the lever, and Dan's body instinctively tenses.
It takes about two seconds before anything actually happens, but when it does, Dan can't help but scream. His back arches as he fights to get away from the painful bursts of electricity coursing through his body, but there's nowhere to go. Tears stream down his face, making it worse, and he screams louder as he twists and turns. After what feels an eternity, the shocks subside, and Dan is left shaking violently and crying as PJ helps him to his feet.
"Are you alright?" PJ asks, steadying Dan as his knees buckle.
"Yeah, I just- I just hate that- that thing," Dan chokes out, shaking his head.
"I know," PJ replies, "and I hate using it, but when they tell me I have to, I have to."
"Not blaming you," Dan mutters, his voice thick as he wipes his eyes. He draws in a shaky breath. "I want to be normal, Peej," he admits, "but what is normal?"
"I wouldn't know," PJ answers sadly. "Can you walk?" Dan nods. "I'll take you back to your room." Dan nods again, silently following him through the stark white- and endless- corridors, keeping his eyes on the floor. PJ scans his badge, opening the door to Dan's 'room.' It's more of a glorified cell, with a bed, sink and toilet, hardly ten feet in any direction- including up.
"Good night," Dan mumbles, sitting on his bed as PJ sets a glass on the sink for him.
"Good night, Grey," he replies, smiling. "I'm working tomorrow, so keep yourself out of trouble and I might bring you something, alright?"
"No promises," Dan replies, giggling as PJ gives him a mock-stern look.
"I'll see you later, kid," PJ says. "Good night." He waves before shutting the door and flipping off the lights. Dan sighs, stretching out his arms. He walks over to the sink, rinsing the blood from his wrists before filling the glass PJ left and taking a long drink. Dan rolls back his shoulders, focusing on the muscles by his shoulder blades. He relaxes them slowly, smiling unconsciously as feathers brush his spine. Dan unfurls his wings a little further, letting them wrap around his shoulders and envelope him in warmth. He can't see the black feathers in the darkness, but he knows each one intimately- they're part of him.
Maybe he is a freak, maybe the scientists are right, but, Dan decides with a small smile, it's his life and he doesn't know anything else, so that's just fine.
And it is, right?