Work Text:
Cursed Candy: You receive a bag of cursed candy. Each piece has a unique effect when eaten. Describe your experiences as you unknowingly sample the enchanted treats.
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“Hey, my favorite,” Vin crowed as he noted the bag of candy. Snagging it, he settled into his chair with a tired sigh. It had been a long week with far too many hours spent trying to track down a shipment of stolen weapons. It had finally been located and retrieved, the perps arrested, and all that was left was the dreaded paperwork.
Unwrapping the caramel truffle candy, he popped it into his mouth, savoring the rich, smooth bitterness of the cacao nibs against the sweet, buttery caramel as it melted on his tongue. For all that the others teased him about his sweet tooth, he rarely actually indulged it. Sweets were either rare treats or emergency sugar boosts. But right now, he needed the extra energy and the serotonin from the dark chocolate would be a help too.
Booting up his computer, he loaded the after action report and settled in to begin typing. Before he got more than the first section complete, his vision began to blue. Blinking, he shook his head. The world swirled around him and a harsh sound scratched its way out of his throat.
Suddenly, the desk was out of reach, the monitor oddly flat and everything felt off balance. He shifted, the chair under him spinning and throwing him toward the floor. Another harsh cry tore from him as he fought with the constricting, painful bindings of his clothing.
Voices. Unclear sounds that made little sense echoed off the walls. Shadows and harsh, painful light made it difficult to understand what was happening around him. When he moved, the things around him pulled painfully at his skin. More noise and indistinct movement around him only made things worse.
Fear and rage filled him as he realized he was trapped. Nothing around him was real, it was all hard angles, not alive, unnatural and confusing. Hissing, he shook his shoulders, trying to remove the thing binding him only to hit the thin metal cave walls around him.
The sound of hitting the metal reverberated in his head and added to the cacophony of unnatural humming and clicking, the odd broken noises of the two-legged ground predators and the loud, echoing sound of footsteps on not stone.
He turned, his neck twisting about so he could eye the creature approaching him. It was far too close, too big - all teeth and eyes. He lunged, shrieking defiance and threat and warning. It backed away, scrabbling frantically.
More of the creatures formed a barrier, trapping him in the small, metal cave. He mantled with a strangled cry, finally freeing himself of the binding that had pinned his limbs and shoulders. But he could not fully stretch his wings. Eyes narrowed, head turning from side to side a she looked for an escape route, he dug his talons into the floor’s material, only for them to sink deeply and tangle in place.
One of the predators stretched out a limb as it made its odd sounds. Before it could complete its attack, he reacted, striking with all of his strength.
Blood - iron and copper, cotton - flat, not quite bitter, chemicals - harsh and pungent flooded his mouth, burning his tongue. He released and pulled back, shaking his head in disgust and fear and panic and anger.
More sounds. Harsh, chaotic and a mix of pain and fear echoed off the metal and not stone. A rustling.
Then darkness swept over him. He could feel cloth as it fell around him. He could smell the scent of man. Heavy, firm bindings surrounded him, over the heavy cloth. He could not move. He could not see. His hearing was muffled except for a continuous, rumbling drone and a slow, calm heart beat.
Time had no meaning. Everything had been a confused blur of unidentifiable, inexplicable sensations. They had blended and merged, not truly a single distinct sense tha the knew, but somehow they were familiar all the same. It all just ran together. And it hurt. A lot.
But now. All was dark. He could not move, but it was dark. It was quiet. The calm heart beat and the deep rumbling sound said he was safe. And the pain was ebbing as his senses calmed. Everything vanished in the dark and the calm.
“Wha… happ’n?” Vin murmured, his throat painful - both dry and sore. It felt as if he had screamed for far too long and been without water for even longer. He tried to move only to freeze as his body protested. Every single muscle felt strained and stretched. Even his hair hurt. He decided he did not want to move.
“You got someone real angry at you son,” Josiah’s rumbling tone was soothing, gentle. Too gentle.
He warily opened his eyes and winced. Late afternoon sunlight filled Chris’ barn from the open loft access door. The scent of straw and horses and leather and wool were nearly overwhelming. As was the awful taste in his mouth. He glared at the graying agent, silently demanding an answer even as he gratefully accepted the tin mug of water.
He frowned as his hands shook so hard he could barely hold the mug. Having to accept the other man’s help only made him frown more.
Josiah sighed, “Cursed candy,” he explained. “It transformed you into a hawk.”
“Magic’s no real,” he hissed, shoulders coming up defensively.
Raising an eyebrow, Josiah shook his head. “Tell that to John Daniel,” he said, his hand holding the cup to Vin’s mouth and urging him to drink more of the water. “You broke his wrist with your beak.”
Horror filled him as the jumbled impressions began to make sense. He pulled back a bit. “I… he okay?” he asked hoarsely.
“He will be,” was the calm reply. “And so will you.”
“Why?” Vin asked, feeling lost and confused. Under normal circumstances, he would never have attacked one of the team. But whatever that had been… “How?”
“We’ll find out,” another calm, quiet reply. But this time he could somehow feel the older man’s determination. It was there, under the surface - not quite a sound, not truly a scent but there.
Vin blinked his eyes, focusing on what he could see and understand. Trying to make sense of the new undercurrents of his senses. Everything was subtly different. He looked over at Josiah, fighting off the panic that he could feel rising in him.
“Easy, son,” Josiah murmured, his expression sad and knowing. “It’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out, as a team. We’ll make sure you’re okay.”
Accepting the words, Vin nodded and took another sip of the water, wincing at the harsh taste of the tin and enamel from the mug.