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Thrax had given up struggling about a week ago. The cells had had a very firm grip on him for about twice that, and they hadn't fed him. Whatever the cities outside threw down, the bigger cells took and gave some to the smaller ones after they were done. He got nothing. He was going to die at this rate. The cell closest to him grabbed him, as they all began to move again, and Thrax wondered why they felt the need to waste what little was left of his energy on unnecessary moves from spot to spot. It was then that he noticed the syringe, the needle getting close enough for them to hop onto. The cells dragged him with them as they were sucked into the bulk of the syringe, and soon enough, the group was getting pushed into the city of Frank. He was too tired to really care in the end, and, as he was shoved into a car, Thrax couldn't help but fall asleep.
When he woke back up, he was exactly where he didn't want to be. In a chair, wearing handcuffs that covered his killer claw, in front of a table. Thrax let out an exasperated sigh and simply slumped forward again. In the distance, he could hear an excited voice,
“I won't let you down this time, I promise.”
“You better not, he's in here. I would advise taking him somewhere where you can keep a consistent eye on him.” The door on the other side of the table swung open, and a pair of white blood cells walked into the room. One was shorter, bald, and wore a chief of FPD badge on his jacket, while the taller of the two was wearing street clothes and had a short, well-maintained beard. The first cell tosed the second what appeared to be the keys to his handcuffs, and for a brief moment, Thrax thought about escaping, but at this point, it wouldn't matter. The cell walked closer, holding the keys, and unlocked the chain holding the cuff to the table. Thrax stood before he could be asked to, and dragged himself towards the door, where they were presumably going.
“Holy Frank dude, you look like you're starving! Want something to eat?” At that, Trax stopped and slowly turned back to the cdll, who was a few steps behind him.
“Yes,” was all he said, as he spotted the donut baggie in the cell's hand opposite the keys. The cell took out a doughnut of some sort and passed it into Thrax’s less bound hand. He hadn't moved so fast in weeks, and he nearly inhaled the sweet, shoving the whole thing in his mouth in one go, barely tasting the jelly inside as he swallowed.
“Yeesh, how long has it been since you last ate?” Thrax tried to remember the exact date
“Maybe 16 days?” he said, hoping the cell would indulge him, if he had more food, that is.
“Aw hell no, I'm getting you something to eat, a proper meal, I'm Ozzy by the way, what's your name if you don't mind me asking?” the virus considered lying, or maybe trying to scare the cell out of whatever delusion had him acting like someone’s mom, but in the end, decided that risking the meal wasnt worth it.
“Thrax.” That was all he could say before the cell interrupted
“Alright, let's get you something to eat. Wait, what do you like to eat?”
“Ummmm, pretty much the same thing you do as far as I can tell.” Thrax let the cell walk ahead, and a small amount of dread filled him as the other man walked up to and unlocked the door of the most ridiculous-looking car he had ever seen. Nonetheless, he followed and got into the passenger seat. The cell- Ozzy, turned on the music, and began to sing along in the most off-key tone Thrax had ever heard. He pulled his coat a little closer and, for now, kept quiet.
“Alright, I felt like this would be a good option for you,” Ozzy said, pulling up to an all-you-can-eat buffet. He got out and came around the side of the car, opening the door for Thrax. He stepped out, and the cell took an admittedly loose hold on the chain between the cuffs. Thrax allowed himself to be led through the doors, and THE SMELL. The only thing Thrax could do was look at Ozzy with his best puppy eyes.
“Heh, hungry? Just kidding, come on, let's get you your food. Ozzylet him lead a little, and Thrax picked up a plate and piled up about as much high-calorie food as he could, not wanting to waste time or the trip, for that matter. Ozzy led him to a table, sitting with a plate of his own. Thrax continued to inhale the food in front of him, and as he did, the world around him came back into focus a little. He took a second look at the cell in front of him and took in its smell a little. He was a white blood cell with well-groomed hair, thick eyebrows, and a small beard. Thrax had expected a harsh alpha’s scent, but what greeted him was the soft smell of metal and bread. A beta then. Ozzy began to stare back, and Thrax let him break the eye contact before going back to his food. He finished the plate, and Ozzy followed him back to the table with his own empty plate. After their second round of food, Thrax let Ozzy lead him out and back into the car.
“Alright, I'm gonna drive us back to my place, then we can go over the rules that the FPD has in place for you, and how it's gonna work, ok?”
“Alright,” after that, Ozzy put the music from before back on and resumed his awful karaoke. After a while, they rolled to a stop in front of an admittedly dingy apartment building. Ozzy led him inside, as he had at the buffet, and pulled out his keys, opening the door to one of the apartments, and sort of dragged him onto the couch.
“Alright, first off, a few rules for you courtesy of the FPD.” Ozzy pulled a paper out of his back pocket and began to read the basics
“You can't go out without me. When you can, if you purchase anything, you gotta tell me what it is and its purpose. You're not allowed into the brain area until we are sure you won't cause a problem. That's more or less what they said, along with basic rules like don't kill cells, but ive also got some for the house.” Thrax nodded, secretly beginning to panic. He would have to tell the cell about his heat suppressants and other possible needs until he had the right to buy himself stuff. He also should probably ask for pads and other hygienic materials. That was, unless he decided to just suffer through…
“Now, this place is a one-bedroom, one bath, so I'll be sleeping on the couch until I can figure out something better for you. I have a few ideas already, so it probably won't take too long. That being said, stay out of my drawers. I'll set up one for you and get you a few things next time I'm out. With the bathroom, knock. I will knock to check if you're in there, too. The fridge is always open, but I'll
be honest, I don't eat very well, so if you have an ingredient you want, add it to the list.”
“Ok, can I add a few rules of my own?”Thrax asked, feeling a surge of energy
“Sure, shoot”
“First off. Please don't touch me. Or my stuff if you can help it, I'll wash my own clothes, dishes, ect, second, respect. I am not your toy, or your subordinate, or someone you can just order around. Ask nicely.” Thrax gave a nod to signal he was done, and Ozzy nodded as well
“Ok, I can try to respect that, to the fullest extent. Just know, if you try to hurt someone, or run, I will have to touch you, of course, but outside of those scenarios, I will try.” Thrax nodded, understanding.
“Alright, let's get you set up for your sta. I'll be changing out the hand restraint soon, so that you can get just about anything done.” Ozzy pulled out an odd device that seemed like it was meant to cover only his killer claw, and would stay on by a chain, connected over the palm of his hand, and his wrist. It almost looked like jewelry, which Thrax tried not to think about too hard, as he let Ozzy take the metal restraint off of his hand, and slip the new one on and clasp it in, just above the wrist. He noticed Ozzy being as careful as he could be not to touch him, only the tips of his fingers touching his wrist as he clasped the devise at the appropriate link. After that, he dragged Thrax towards a door, and into what was clearly Ozzy’s room. The whole thing smelled like him, but it was less overpowering than it could have been. There wasn't too much here, the room being a bit bare bones. A built-in closet in the corner, a bed across from it, and a desk between them. There was one wall, covered in small newspaper clippings, and exactly 2 photos. On photo was Ozzy next to someone who was presumably his police partner, a large yellow and red pill, and the second was Ozzy graduating from a college.
“Are you still hungry? I can make something?”
“Nah, still full from the buffet, I think I'm gonna sleep a little.” But that was a lie. Thrax needed to think through his new situation. If he was gonna escape, how would he do it? Was he gonna tell Ozzy anything about what he might actually need later? No, he’d known this cell for maybe 4 hours? He didn't want to tell him anything that wasn't an immediate problem for now. Now, for the problem of escape. He should probably try to get his strength back up, then attempt to leave the city, and continue to fight his way to fame. Then his mother would see, then she would accept him for who he was. Not some broken daughter, but a deadly and efficient son. Yes, he would get back up to strength, play along, and when the time was right, he would run. But for now, sleep. Thrax settled down into the cell’s bed, cuddling down into the nice-smelling sheets.