You'll Never Be Alone [mpreg|sequel]

xxi

He's fifteen weeks pregnant, way past the midway point and only getting bigger.

That means Riot has been gone for a total of five weeks and Dan is getting restless without them there.

He's surprised he's made it so far without his other half. But the pregnancy is starting to take its toll on his body again and he can see it, can feel it.

While his belly grows bigger, he's beginning to notice his ribs more, his face has grown more pale and gaunt and his hands are constantly clammy. He's always hungry and craving, but there's little to satisfy it. He knows Riot had been taking care of all of that while he wasn't aware, but all he can do without them is eat his weight in tator tots and drink hot chocolate.

He's worried for his baby though.

Even if he makes it to full term, he's not sure he'll survive the birth.

He can't think about that though.

Not when there's still a nagging fear that hasn't left him alone since he first noticed it. Something that screams just inherently wrong and bad. He's been stuck on it ever since Riot left.

He sighs and stands from the bed, unable to sleep or to even lay down any longer.

The baby stretches and he cups the gentle swell with a heavy sigh.

"Safe," he reminds, "we're safe, baby."

He winces at a sharp kick, but smiles lovingly at his belly where his baby resides. He's enamored with his little hybrid, nothing they do could ever upset him. Not for long at least.

Even the lack of sleep and heartburn are things he welcomes so long as it means his baby is safe and developing healthily within him.

He stares out the window and briefly wonders where Riot is.

Is he safe?

Is he happy?

Or...

He bites his lip and shakes his head.

Stop caring, Dan, he chastise himself, Just...

Stop, stop, stop!

Stop! Riot growls and roars.

They can't escape.

The space is too confined and they're tired of fighting, too weak to even move anymore.

"This is RIDICULOUS!" the man shouts in outrage.

Dora cowers away, covering her ears and closing her eyes tightly.

"A week and you've done nothing? A free meal and you refuse even that?" He continues with a sneer.

She peeks over and finds Riot laying limply.

A week.

Riot has been dying for a week and there's nothing she can do.

"Fine, we tried the easy way, now lets try my way."

A shiver of terror crawls up her back and a rumbling purr within her chest tries to soothe her. It doesn't help when a moment later she is begin yanked up by the hair and turned around. The cuffs are now secured around her raw and bruised wrists with her hands behind her back. She is pushed out the door and her legs tremble as she's forced to walk more than she has ever been allowed to in the past two years.

It isn't long before she's shoved into a new room, sterile with bright lights that hurt her eyes and cause a migraine to bloom rapidly.

Riot follows closely behind, but she has no time to worry about the sick symbiote when she strapped to a table. The fear and terror and utter anxiety makes her feel queasy. It only worsens when someone rips down the sweats she has worn for months and her legs are placed in stirrups.

No... no, no, no!

She struggles, but the movements only serve to tighten the binds holding her down.

And Riot... Riot is placed in a glass box, probes slowly going in and without mercy, without warning, stabbing into them.

The screech of pain as the symbiote spazzes causes her to panic.

"What are you doing!"

"Ever the curious woman, aren't you," the man coos.

She recoils as he goes to touch her, she can't get very far and he knows this because he presses on and touches her bare thigh without her consent, "thanks to Rot we have learned how to extract spawns, quite a simple yet painful procedure and it takes a lot out of subjects as I'm sure you've noticed."

Dora looks at Riot's form, spasming and shivering in agony.

"And although that's great and dandy, our interest is the hybrids. We really need to study them, they are the key to unlocking all the potential a human has with the DNA of a symbiote. But as you can see Riot has been rather uncooperative, the least he could've done was eat you to spare you, but now... why not just do the job ourselves?"

A syringe pierces Riot painfully slow and something is drawn up quickly. The needle is soon tossed but the syringe is brought closer to her by who she can only assume is an intern, an intern with that same spark of malice in his eyes.

Dora shakes her head as she struggles and kicks and fights uselessly against the restraints. That's when she notices the group of people on the other side of the glass. Staring, gawking, at her and waiting for the torture to begin.

"Help me!" She screams, "please help me! Don't just stand and stare! Help me!"

She screams until her throat grows raw and she can't speak, can't beg.

"It's ok doll," the man hushes, "it'll be over soon and you'll be the most valuable incubator in existence. Picture it Dr. Skirth, picture carrying the hybrid spawn of Riot. You'll be the start of evolution!"

They get close, too close for comfort and her back arches as the syringe is placed in her most intimate core.

Just before the plunger is released, bloodshed reigns.