He didn't – couldn't – stop staring.
They ran their usual tests on him, some hurt, some didn't, all while he couldn't stop staring.
Gulping, he blinks.
And then blinks again.
Still there.
Holy shit.
Doctor Pencil Neck chuckles. "Amazing, isn't it? She's so tiny and weak, who'd have thought she'd outlive the rest."
"Yeah," 254 agrees with quick exhale of disbelief. He then continues to stare.
The Doctor pricks his arm with a needle, withdrawing his weekly sample of blood. "Of course, she might not make it yet. We're trying not to get our hopes up. But..." He gives a one armed shrug and creepy smile. "She's getting stronger."
"Well, damn." Again, he was feeling weirdly proud of her. Against all odds, she was surviving. '
I don't want to die', she'd cried.
Well, baby, look at you - still kicking.
He tried not to think about the tests and pain she'll face at their hands as they try to find out what makes her so special.
"We have a poll," the Doctor mentions casually. He clips the vial of blood into a silver case. "About what abilities she'll develop. With you, we had an idea by now but her – she's giving nothing away."
The thought sickens him. She's fighting for her life and they're placing bets. She's nothing but a guinea pig to them. He shifts his eyes towards the other man and it's the first time since entering the room that he's turned away from her.
"You sick fuck."
"Now, now, 254," he scolds as if speaking to a child, and then preps the scalpel. "You know -" he holds it up, blade winking in the light - 254 knows what's about to happen before he does it – and then slams it straight into his forearm. "-I don't like that attitude."
254 groans, body going rigid against the pain. It's not the worse he's experienced but that didn't mean it felt like daisies either. His hands flex in the cuffs and nostrils flare.
The Doctor twists it for good measure. "We've been getting along so well lately. Haven't had an incident in months. Let's keep it that way, yes?" He finally pulls it free, immediately starting the timer.
254 ignores him, the pain slowly dulling as his body begins to heal. His eyes return to her, wondering if it would be better for her if he'd pull the plug now. It would be an act of mercy so she didn't have to experience the things he'd lived through.
'I don't want to die,' her words repeat in his head.
She was trying so hard to live...
It wasn't his decision to take that away from her.
She's pretty, he suddenly realises. Blonde hair, bow shaped lips, a small nose, freckles. She was slim, small just as the Doctor had mentioned, with curves in all the right places. Maybe five foot, tiny compared to his six foot two. A tube parts her lips, he assumes to help her breathe. Wires stick out from her neck and back of her hand.
"No improvement this week," the Doctor sighs in annoyance, putting his toys away. He glances up at his Subject, a small smile on his lips. "You like her?"
"She's okay." 254 shrugs.
"Good," he chuckles darkly. "If she survives, I think you and 391 will get along famously."
His neck tingles, telling him he was missing something – a hidden message in the Doctor's words but before he had a chance to analyse it, the guards were taking him back to his cell. He glances at her one last time.
Sleeping Beauty.
391.
–
Thump.
He laid on his bed, eyes closed. The tennis ball ricochets off of the wall and he catches it without looking.
Thump, he does it again.
He tries to clear his mind, stop himself from thinking about her but-
Thump.
He should have ended her back there.
Thump
She didn't know what she wanted. She didn't know just how bad life could get here. Was it fair for him to let her live, knowing she'd end up like him? Cold, distant, prodded and poked at.
Thump.
Beaten, bruised, cut open-
Thump.
Dead inside. An experiment. DNA altered so much he doubts he'd register as human any more.
Thump.
She wouldn't know anything outside of this place, didn't she know that? Maybe he should have scared her more instead of spare her feelings. He should have gone into explicit detail about the time they'd sliced into his gut, tore apart his intestines just to see if they'd heal. To see if he'd survive it. They hadn't allowed him the ignorance of sleep. He'd been awake the whole time.
He grips the ball in his hand, working his jaw. He hopes she has accelerated healing, the pain will fade quicker that way. He shakes his head.
He should have ended her when he'd had the chance.
Thump.
Her future – tears, pain, blood, being ripped apart and put back together again – is on him. Guilt ways heavy on his heart. He allows himself to feel for two beats before pushing it anyway. She needs to survive Phase One first.
Thump.
391 had made it further than the others. Didn't mean a whole lot though – others had looked promising only to fail without warning. Hopefully she'd be the same. She could be free from this.
Thump.
She just needed to do herself a fucking favour and die.
The animal inside of him growls, thirsty for blood and something else. It didn't want to kill her, but he wanted to hurt her, wanted to fuck her, wanted to feel her, wanted to fucking claim her, wanted– wantedwantedwanted -
"Shut up," 254 snarls, managing to tame the beast for now. His chest heaves. It hadn't been so out of control for some time now. She must be triggering something in him.
Thump! He throws the ball against the wall as hard as he can without breaking it. It lands on the ground after a few bounces. He places an arm over his head and sighs.
–
He doesn't find out what her fate is until the next morning.
Unfortunately– or fortunately - It's not the outcome he'd wanted.
YOU ARE READING
Lab Rat(18+)
Romance. Three years. It had been three years since he'd been taken, experimented on, had his DNA altered and became a freak of nature. He knew because he'd managed to peek at the computer when they dragged him into that dreaded room; the one the...
