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Summary
George Russell has been here for an indeterminate amount of time.
The cell is pitch-black and padded. No visible entry nor exit points. All the walls and floor are cushioned. He can't reach the ceiling. Even if he did, it'd be padded, too. His voice is the only one in here. It's always absorbed by the padding, so he's not sure whether or not he's talking, anymore.
Talking doesn't make much use of his environment, anyways. He's sure the room is bugged. It wouldn't be a good thing to make... everything... so obvious to his captors.
His flock may not love him anymore, but he cares about them just enough to keep silent.
The door hasn't opened in ages. He doesn't know who'd be behind it, anyways. Maybe Nico would, frantic and eyes looking in the dark. Nico's eyes, though, wouldn't be able to see George in the darkness. And so, he'd close the door again and say the room was "clear!" before moving on.
Maybe Nico's dead.
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OR:
After being abandoned by his flock, George Russell is captured and tortured in order to extract information from him. Help comes eventually. Mostly a whump fic actually.