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Stiles has been missing for three years and everyone is starting to loose hope. All except Scott.
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Thomas and his friends are living a great life in the safe haven only for things to go wrong.
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When Scott finds crucial information about Stil...
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Thomas' eyes fluttered open. There was no need to be shocked, surprised or worried. He's been through this far to many times to feel anything at all. Could he escape or would that just kil — hurt Newt?
I must do this for Newt. It's all for Newt.
Despite all his instincts were telling him otherwise he decided not to try and escape. Not to fight them. It could kill him but he wouldn't care. The reason why is simple; it's for Newt.
Thomas instinctively tried to move his arms. No surprise, he couldn't move them higher than a few inches. He relaxed. All he could really do now is wait... wait for the inevitable.
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Malia allowed her fingers to trace the bottom outline of the window. Boredom had the best of her. She should feel exhilarated because they are finding Stiles. After 3 years Stiles would be back. Instead she felt... empty.
"I can't take this anymore." She said leaning forwards towards the drivers seat. "How long till we're there?"
"Malia, it's a 14 hour drive." Lydia answered. "Just get comfortable."
The corner of her mouth started to twitch in frustration.
"Scott?"
"A good 12 hours." He answered.
"Urgh." She said, aggressively thumping back onto her seat.
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"Hello Thomas. Are you ready for some... fun?" He stayed silent.
"I'll take that as a yes." Janson said as a devilish smirk creeped onto his face.
Thomas couldn't help but tense up as he pulled out a long rod. Electric sparks flew from it. Thomas tried not to shuffle on the metal table his was situated on. He, tried to show no fear.
Janson circled Thomas like a predator over their prey. He let the rod stroke against Thomas' side.
"Hm, it seems that we have just run out of sedatives but it's just your luck that there is more than one way to knock out someone. Anyways I would love to see you conscious for this. I've also just decided that...I think." He grinned a devilish grin. "I think, I may just take my time because like I said before, Thomas. You. Have. No. One. No one is left to come and save you nasty behind for once."
Thomas just laid there. Arms and legs bound, trying not to flinch every time the rod threatened to shock his skin.
"Ah, you have no words I see. I think it's time to begin."
With that, Janson shocked Thomas with the rod and his body began to convulse. He gritted his teeth as electricity ran through him. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't please Janson. He would not scream.
As the rod was pulled away from him Thomas started to gasp for air. Still trying not to let Janson have the satisfaction of his pain.
"Hmph... That was boring..." Jansen said stroking the bottom of his chin meticulously.
He slowly pulled out something shiny. Thomas tried to raise his head so he could see what it was. Hope it was not what he anticipated.
"I think this will inflict more pain." He said twirling the sharp knife between his fingers, somehow managing not to cut himself.
He took the knife and tore down Thomas' shirt. Janson took the knife and started to make a light cut across his chest. Thomas winced a bit at the cool touch of the blade. It wasn't so bad. He could do it.
"Now I don't want you to loose too much blood... because that's exactly what I need."
Thomas glared at him. Janson pulled over a tray with a drips and needles. Janson stabbed one of the many needles into his arm. Thomas watched as his blood started to leave his arm down a long thin tube. The nausea didn't hit him immediately but once it did it was hard to ignore. As much as he wanted to, he was determined not to pass out.
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The car came to a stop. Malia jolted forward. "We here?" She asked groggily as drool ran down her mouth.
"Nope." Scott answered quickly. "Just stopping for gas."
She grunted in annoyance scratching at her messy hair. She rolled her eyes then laid back on her seat and shut her eyes. The car was soon filled with her subtle snores.
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"I think that's enough." Janson said whilst slowly peeling the tubes out off Thomas's arms.
Thomas held his breath. He tried not to wince.
Janson tilted his head sideways. It looked like he was inspecting a very peculiar artwork. His eyes outlined every inch of Thomas' body. He didn't bother to bandage Thomas' wrists but rather let them clot up on their own. Thomas was groggy but he could handle it. He's seen worse, he's had worse. This time was different. This time something was gnawing at him or should I rather say; someone. Newt was all he could think about. He couldn't feel pain. He was his anesthetic.
He didn't even realize Janson was now standing right in front of him. He was not prepared for the blast of agony that hit him. His face was throbbing. He tried to open his clenched eyes and he saw Janson shaking and compressing his hand. Something ran down his face. He couldn't tell if it's sweat or blood.
"Wow! Thomas!" Jansen said in an exhilarated manner. "That's one hard face you have there! Too hard for my taste, glad I could —" He stopped as he hit Thomas for the second time. "—soften you up again." He finished.
"You know." He started to pull something out from behind the table so Thomas couldn't see. "I'm having a weird sense of déjà vu. This is starting to remind me of when I first found you."
He started, what sounded like, peeling plastic off something. He pressed something sticky onto Thomas' head. He didn't need to look. He already knew that wires ran endlessly from them. He didn't want to know what it did. He just needed it to be over. "You were so weak!" He spat out the last word.
Thomas heard a click and then felt his muscles tense up.
"And that's what you're still are; weak!"
Thomas' vision was clouded and his hearing departed. He was no longer in that small room but rather in a distant land. A land Thomas didn't like to visit often. A land Thomas was, although he didn't like to admit it, scared off.
