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Twilight woke to the sensation of being lifted into the air. Blue eyes opened in a panic and he found himself in a warehouse. Cold air hit him and he realized that he was in nothing but his boxers. Once he was on his feet and his arms raised above his head, another person entered. Twilight was still fuzzy from unconsciousness, but he knew he needed to start figuring out how to get out.
“Agent Twilight,” drawled a male voice, stopping the spy in his tracks and thoughts.
Twilight looked up and blinked, clearing his vision as much as possible. A large and muscled man stood in front of him, wearing a dark suit and holding a whip in his hands.
“Since you ruined me all those months ago, I’ve been dreaming of the day I had you in this position!” the man said gleefully.
Twilight was at a loss. He usually didn’t remember what his targets looked like after a mission and he had no idea who the hell this guy was.
A hand grabbed his chin with crushing force, “Don’t you patronize me, Twilight! I’m going to put you through all the pain you put me through! I’m going to make sure you wished you were never born!”
Well, he was roughly twenty years late. Twilight’s gaze wandered to the whip still held in the other man’s fingers. He had been through extensive training on how to deal with torture. He hoped it wouldn’t be drawn out too much. The man was clearly getting tired of the spy because he directed his gaze at someone behind him and snapped his fingers. The blond felt himself get dragged upward by his arms. When he stopped moving, his toes barely scraped the ground.
The man walked around him. Twilight attempted to track him, but the whip cracked, hugging his ankle.
“I wouldn’t suggest moving, Twilight.”
Reluctantly, the blond stared at the wall, hoping dissociation would work. A crack sounded on his left. He flinched at the suddenness of the sound.
“Don’t go escaping, Twilight. I want to hear you.”
Another crack sounded, this time from his right. Twilight didn’t bother holding his flinch back.
It went on like that for a while longer. The man would talk while cracking the whip randomly, making sure the spy had to stay present.
“Just get it over with,” the blond said, tired of the toying.
A laugh echoed through the building, “Did you hear that? Little Twilight doesn’t want to play anymore!” A second passed, “Alright, Twilight. You asked for it.”
The blond spy had no time to brace himself.
CRACK!
“AHH!”
The first strike finished landing. It left a mark going diagonally across his back. Twilight swore he had fire licking up and down his spine.
“Hmm…” his captor mused, “Not quite what I hoped for, but let’s try again, shall we?”
The freshly injured man didn’t answer. He merely swayed from his wrists, letting the pain attempt to swallow him whole.
CRACK!
Twilight screamed. The whip came down before his scream ended.
It became a hazy routine of near constant pain, cracks, and screams. The blond was so lost in agony that he hadn’t noticed the other man had stopped until cold water was poured over him. It seeped down from his shoulders, cleaning away blood and soaking his boxers in the mixture.
“Ahh!”
The fingers retreated as Twilight heard a chuckle answer his cry of pain, “Guess I didn’t go too hard on you.”
The man walked in front of the spy and forced their gazes to meet, “I needed a little break, you see,” he smiled, “but I still think you need a few more. Don’t you?”
Twilight’s face was released and he was weak enough to not hold it up. He didn’t know how long he had been in the warehouse, but he could barely grab the chains holding him up. His hands and wrists were nearly completely numb and his shoulders started screaming in protest now that he was paying attention to his body. However, all body pain disappeared as the fire started blazing against his back again.
Twilight could feel his walls crumbling. The pain was too much. His mental fortitude and defenses that were so highly sought after and praised, were nothing more than a pile of dust. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to go home. He wanted the fire to be put out. He just wanted everything to st-
“-op!”
Miraculously, it did.
"Aww, is the little spy tired of his punishment?"
Tears streaked down the blond's face as he unconsciously nodded in affirmation. He heard laughter and footsteps. He braced himself for more-
"Very well."
Dazedly, Twilight watched the man leave. He forced himself to wait out a possible trap, relaxing when nothing happened. With nothing to keep him awake, Twilight drifted away.
* * *
"Twilight!"
The blond cracked open his eyes. He vaguely registered that he was still strung up, and that the aches and chills were fairly new. How long had he been under?
"Twilight!" was called again, accompanied by a stinging cheek.
Through his blurry vision, he made out the form of Sylvia Sherwood.
"Handler?"
"We're getting you out of here, Twilight. Hang on."
The injured man was the first to admit that he had no idea what was going on outside his little bubble. So when hands appeared on his body, he screamed.
"-light! Twilight!"
He opened his eyes- when had he closed them?
The head of WISE gently cupped his face like a parent. And that was his last straw. He distantly heard the call for a blanket and to "release the chains even if that means breaking the building" past his weakened sobs. Through everything, the hands barely left his face. Twilight didn't register the blanket as one until he was warmer then he had been for two days. He couldn't tell when he was finally freed, but his shoulders screamed plenty loud. Even when he was laid an a gurney, the gentle touch never stopped.
After a lot of moving and multiple voices yelling, Twilight felt a poke in his neck and he drifted into the blackness.