Chapter Text
When did he start working for his uncle?
He couldn’t quite recall. Not much from his early childhood could be dug up from the back of his mind. That wasn’t uncommon though, was it? Who really could remember anything before the age of — what? Four? No one remembers being a kid. All it boils down to the stage where you’re useless, and the stage where you can actually do something to earn your place. He was actually rather proud at how early he was able to earn his place next to his uncle. Some of the dipshits who worked with them could barely keep up even when he was ten.
That’s why they got taken down first.
Hunter huffed, fidgeting in the hard wooden chair he sat in.
Maybe he remembered some things. The measly undercover operations he ran when he was small enough to trick people into giving him sympathy. Uncover their weak points so his uncle could do the rest.
He did everything he could for Belos, no matter what age he was. That’s all that mattered in the end.
The end.
Was this the end?
No. He still did what he could. He sacrificed himself so Belos could get away.
He may have been taken down, but as long as Belos was safe, they’d all be safe. He would be safe.
He was proud of what he did. So proud, in fact, he pleaded guilty.
Why wouldn’t he? He pleaded guilty to being more capable than any other useless 16 year old in the country. All the work he did for his uncle was worth being proud of, even if it meant getting locked up for a bit. It’s not like it would be for a long time anyway. Belos was sure to get him out before his sentence was up. Not that he couldn’t last long in prison. The training he flawlessly endured through his life could easily make him the strongest compared to the scrappy teens they’ll put him with.
Haha! Yeah…
All that needed to happen now was this boring sentencing trial to wrap up.
Hunter peered up at the judge who’d been looking down on him in pity the entire time. What an idiot. Looking at him like that. Like he was something that should be pitied.
The judge's face melted into that of something much more serious.
Hunter felt a nudge. “Please rise.”
Oh! Hunter scrambled to stand up, almost knocking his chair over in the process. He didn’t miss the judge’s face flash back to pity. It’s really starting to piss him off.
“I have not much to say on this case. Despite the crimes you’ve committed from such a young age, it would take a fool to not take note of the hand that guided you to where you stand today. Therefore, instead of time in a juvenile hall, I am sentencing you to be transferred to the Reparenting Program.”
She finished her declaration with a smack of the gavel.
Sorry, what? Hunter thought to himself. It must be some kind of joke. No prison? Just some program? They’re letting him off so easily.
An uneasy feeling began to wind itself up in his stomach.
Everyone in the room looked grim.
— —
Hunter didn’t manage to shove down that unease growing and lacing its way from his stomach to his chest. He wiped his sweaty palms onto his jeans as he glanced out the window of the cop car.
He didn’t know what to expect out of this program, but the last thing on his list was the officer pulling up to a hospital.
Would Belos know to look for him here?
The car pulled around to an entrance towards the back of the building where he was even more surprised to see two nursing staff in crisp white uniforms waiting just outside the door to greet them.
Hunter’s head buzzed with anxiety. He barely registered when the officer hauled him out of the car and they all shuffled inside to fill out some paperwork at the front desk. The stark white walls and fluorescent lighting pulled him somewhat back to reality, enough to start taking in everything he could in case it helped him later if he decided to ditch this place on his own accord. No chairs for the waiting area, only some basic wall art and a few plants in the corner, a stack of magazines the woman at the front desk must have thumbed through about a dozen times.
“Cuffs,” The officer suddenly grunted.
Hunter held out his wrists, happy to be free of the annoying metal digging angry red marks into his wrists. They couldn’t have been off for more than a millisecond before the two tall nurses shoved him unceremoniously through a set of double doors to the left of the front desk. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder in time to notice the doors lock behind him, and a light flash on a keypad next to the doors. Unease turned to agitation.
“Ok, what gives?”
So they give him this sentence and then what? Nothing! No explanation, no corny pamphlets, only a pair of man handlers and a locked door.
“Afternoon,” A doctor, dressed in a sharp white lab coat approached, “Let's see. I’ll have you in room 7 on the left.” She didn’t even look up from her clipboard.
This was worse than the officers he’d dealt with before! Everyone here looked bored, and unwilling to say anything more than what would get their basic tasks done.
“No.” Hunter shrugged his arms out of the nurse’s halfassed hold on him. “When did I say you could put your hands on me? I’m not going anywhere with you people.”
The doctor finally looked up from her clipboard. “We just need you to take one test, and you’ll be transferred up to your assigned wing. The faster you cooperate with us, the faster you can get settled in.” She replied dryly.
Settled in? Was this it? He was going to live in a hospital for a few months?
That still didn’t tell him anything about this program. Honestly, he’d already forgotten the name of it outside of ‘Program’. It all seemed both too lax and extreme at the same time. Were they planning to use him for experiments or something??
Just as before, the nurses grabbed his arms and pushed him to room 7.
This examination room wasn’t what Hunter was expecting. His uncle never really took him to the doctors, but he’d seen things in books or TV. He thought there’d be a little table with deli paper on it. Instead, there was only a sink area and chair for him to sit in. One of which he was shoved down into. Likely thanks to his resistance earlier.
He eyed the doctor as she washed her hands and turned to meet his gaze.
“We don’t need to perform any sort of physical, you can relax. We only need to ask a few questions.”
Hunter felt his shoulders ease a bit.
Well that’s easy enough. Nothing weird about that.
The doctor proceeded to ask him fairly general questions about his health.
Allergies? Pollen.
Medications? No.
A fever in the last two weeks? No.
He’d prepared to lie about at least some things, but nothing ended up coming up that seemed important enough.
“Now, for the last part of the examination, I need you to drink this. It’ll help relax you so we can take some vitals before you go on your way.”
Hunter stiffened. “You said no physicals.”
“This isn't a physical.”
Alarm bells rang out in Hunter’s mind. This couldn’t be normal. Now it really didn’t help that his uncle never took him to the doctor outside of the one time he got sick, passed out, and had to be put on IV fluids. He wracked his brain trying to remember if they’d given him a little cup of mystery fluid then too.
Hunter shifted away from the cup, eyeing it.
Then suddenly smacked it out of the doctor's hand. “Seriously? I’m not just going to drink whatever mystery fluid you hand me. I’m not an idiot.”
To his frustration, the doctor didn’t look phased at all.
She turned again to wash the fluid off of her hand, and filled a new cup. “It won’t hurt you. It’s just to help you relax.” She emphasized the last bit.
“Man, you people are stellar at getting your patients to feel comfortable and trust you,” He rolled his eyes.
“I know you’re scared and this is probably a lot, but I need you to either drink this or I’ll have to administer it by force.”
Hunter wouldn’t admit it, but his stomach dropped.
He looked at the little cup again.
The doctor didn’t blink.
Like an explosion, he knocked it out of her hand again. This time, making sure to put enough force in his blow to send her stumbling back a bit. “Scared my ass. I’m done here!”
He then grabbed the flimsy chair he sat in and whirled it at the two nurses.
Outside of the four of them, the hallway had been empty. All he had to do was get out of this room, run down the hall, and quickly hack the lock to get himself out of this mess. Simple, he was trained for this. He faced worse than this.
Hunter managed to brush his fingertips against the doorknob before he felt two large pairs of hands on him again. Oh, right. They were in a room the size of a shoebox, and hucking a plastic chair at two nurses the size of linebackers probably did as much damage as a sneeze.
They seized his arms, pinning them with much more force than earlier. Before he could spit another insult at them, he felt a prick on the side of his neck, and something cold entered his veins.
Shock stifled his thrashing.
“Next door please,” came from over his shoulder.
As they dragged him out the door he heard the doctor tiredly sigh, "These criminals never seem to want to cooperate.”
A room closely resembling an interrogation room came into view. Except instead of a table in a cold, bleak section of it, Hunter could see sterile white padding on both the walls and floor. He dug his heels into the slippery hospital tiles, but upon feeling his resistance, the taller nurses simply lifted him off the ground about an inch until they could toss him inside.
Again, a door shut and locked behind him.
He was right. They’re doing experiments on him, aren’t they?? They caught him, and the government is using his body as a test subject.
Hunter frantically scrambled to his feet and banged on the door. “Let me out! You’ll fucking pay once my uncle finds out about this!!”
That dry, unfeeling voice returned, except it rang out above him on an intercom behind a window. “Don’t worry, we won’t be in here long. The padding is only there in case you fall.”
Falling? Why would he be falling? What did they inject him with??
He felt his head start spinning, either from anger or from whatever they gave him. Likely both. Grabbing his head, he stumbled back from the door, feeling more off balance than usual. The room wasn’t that big at all, and soon he found his back pressed against a thick padded wall.
It wasn’t like his head hurt, it more felt like a dense fog descending onto his mind, lifting his anger, and replacing it with a fear he didn’t know he had. Hard, cold walls he’d built up seemed to crumble in an instant.
A weakness spread through his limbs, making his legs shake until he found himself collapsing to the floor on his hands and knees. His body felt heavy, like the ocean weighed down on top of him.
Through the fog he heard the door click open. The doctor joined him in the room, hands in her labcoat pockets. One nurse followed suit with another clipboard.
Hunter jolted, trying to take advantage of the open door despite knowing the other nurse was out there waiting. Instead of getting up, all he managed to do was throw his body forward, and land directly on his face. One arm outstretched and the other buckled under him.
To his shocked dismay, tears prick at his eyes out of fear and frustration.
This wasn’t happening. Whatever the hell this was, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want to believe it. What was this program? Why did his confession lead to this? Why was he here and not in jail? Where was Belos?
“The patient has lost the ability to stand.”
Two surprisingly gentle hands wedged themselves under Hunter’s armpits and propped him up, pressing his back once again to the soft padded wall. The doctor kneeled in front of him, getting down to his eye level.
“Hunter, can you say anything for me?”
Wide eyed, he stared back at her, tears building and threatening to spill over. He hadn’t felt this much fear in a very long time. All those missions, all those tasks, and he never felt this much fear. He knew better than this. He was trained better than this! Yet, the only thing that managed to crawl up his throat was a tiny, pathetic squeak as he forced his tired limbs to push himself away from the nurse. Again, he fell directly onto his face, this time scrambling to pull his body along the ground in a desperate attempt to escape this confusing mess.
Hunter watched the doctor rise to a standing position again and turn to the nurse with the clipboard.
“The patient has lost his ability to sit up and speech has been halted in the deepest state.” She turned back to look at him, this time with a softness in her expression, “Wow, I haven’t seen one of these in a while…” She made a beckoning motion with her hand and the second nurse entered, making a beeline directly towards Hunter.
“From what I could see, he never went through any other phase, but to be safe, put him down as a 0 - 3.” The doctor continued.
The nurse with the clipboard nodded, scribbling frantically.
Hunter’s mind spun. He felt as though he could barely react as the second nurse pulled him up from the floor and slung him onto his chest, supporting his butt with one hand, and pressing him into the large man’s shoulder with the other. A new sound thrummed against him, a heartbeat, steadily thumping at a calming rate. Instinctively, he couldn’t help but lean into the gesture and cling desperately to the nurse who, only minutes ago, was throwing him like a sack of potatoes.
It seemed like whatever they gave him only grew stronger, sending more and more clouds over his mind.
With the heartbeat now in his ear and the warmth of another person holding him, Hunter sagged. Days of sitting in court rooms and holding cells, being pushed and shoved in every direction, and trying to decipher everything he was told seemed to weigh down on him all at once.
The nurse started rubbing circles on his back as they walked down the bright fluorescent lit hall to an elevator. Hunter closed his eyes to block out the light.
He was out cold before the elevator doors could close again.