I'll be nice... (Colonel Quaritch X M! OC)

Obedient

Mil'hō tilted his head slightly upwards to glance at the machine Quaritch had just strapped him into. A dark growl escaped his sore throat when someone grabbed his head and forced it back onto the headrest with a rough jerky movement. He tried to fight against whoever came close enough to touch his head, though only a second later he could hear a suspicious clicking noise with which his head was suddenly uncomfortably maintained in place. He could feel the weight of his body pressing against his tswin and the root of his tail, which immediately began throbbing with pain again, as the machine around him started to move in slow-paced circles. The noise it made while doing so reverberated painfully in his ears, that he folded back against his head to stare up at the people in the white coats, standing on a raised podium above him. They were staring at all kinds of monitors. Each of them blinked in different colours and made sounds they didn't even appear to notice. Mil'hō felt like he heard each little noise that emerged from anywhere all over the room. Only until everything suddenly mixed into a deep buzz, which caught his attention and made him look back at the machine, now spinning around him a lot faster than before, making it hard to even look up at the scientists. Some of them threw short glances down at him as if to make sure he wouldn't harm their machine in any way. Right now it rather felt like this thing would harm him very soon. His vision blurred slightly as he tried to let his eyes focus on anything except the blinding light in front of him, which appeared to spin faster and faster, causing his head to throb in sudden, sharp waves of pain. "I told you, I don't know where Jake is!", he began screaming at the interpreter, who now stood to the side and pretended not to hear his pleads. The Na'vi tried to close his eyes, to give them just a few seconds of rest. The strange headpiece they had strapped him in, however, kept him from doing so. How had he not noticed that before? Panic began crawling up his spine, making him bite his tongue to hold back his tears. He twisted his neck to stare at the only other Na'vi in the room. Though he wasn't even one of his kind. He had five fingers. He was merely a copy of someone that should have died twenty years ago. He bared his teeth tensely, openly displaying his pain, when his gaze met Quaritch's. He nearly pulled his head back even further against his tswin. There was nothing there. Not the slightest hint of empathy. Not even amusement. The dark yellow eyes that glimmered in the corner of the room just stared at him, into him, hypnotized him, and shallowed his breathing so far he felt like he was getting lightheaded. Or was he? He tried to blink a few times, which was rather hard when you couldn't properly close your eyes. "Come on, Mil'ō. You want this to stop, you'll have to talk to m-.. to us", he even pronounced his name wrong. He barely even tried to keep calm at this point. Everything hurt. He couldn't think properly and this man was the reason for it all. His tail twitched painfully from side to side in an attempt to show his anger. "Fuck. You.", he made sure to spit these words out slowly and clearly, keeping up eye contact with the Colonel. The tall Na'vi rose to his full height, rolling his shoulders back and slowly, but very steadily, came closer and slowly folded his ears back a little to stare down at the slim figure in the horribly loud machine that was supposed to lure his secrets out of him. "It's... Mil'hō, you... Asshole", the young Na'vi growled, now a lot less fluent, because the speed of the machine picked up even more, making it nearly impossible for him to focus his mind on anything at all. "I don't give two shits on how to call you, Boy. I want to know where Jake Sully is hiding. Use your pretty little head. I know none of you are used to that", the man growled in a bizarre mixture of both languages. At least Mil'hō understood what he was trying to tell him. This only fueled his anger. His father would surely come for his rescue. He knew that Mil'hō would never reveal Jake's position and endanger his clan. At least he hoped that his father knew this as well as he did. Even though he couldn't close his eyes, now at least he tried to keep his mind off of the horrifying machine he couldn't fight against. He even managed to let his thoughts drift off. Bringing him back to the bottom of the ocean. In the deep blues where he found his true home each time he returned down there. He could imagine his hands gently stroking the soft sand on the bottom of the sea. A school of fish swimming by, some of them gently touching him at his sides and tickling him. He could feel a shiver rolling down his spine, though he had the feeling that his body was not nearly as pleased with the effects of the machine, as it would be with swimming with his brothers and sisters. Neither was his mind. But he tried his best to focus on this imagination just a bit further. It made this experience just a little less disturbing. There was his soul brother waiting for him when the Tulkun - he had made his spirit-bond with - returned from their never-ending journey and arrived back home in the north where the Metkayina lived. There was silent whispering in a language he did not understand. His ears twitched forward, pointing towards the movement he could make out to come from the podium on which the small gathering of sky-people had been dead silent up to this point. His conscience slowly faded back into the here and now. Through the aggressive spinning of the machine, he could see Quaritch making his way up onto the podium, roughly pushing one of the scientists aside with his massive hand. "Get outta my sight, Labcoat", Mil'hō couldn't make out what the Colonel had just said, though the person he had pushed aside simply backed off and gave him space, he assumed it had been something like a command to step aside. He had made up his mind to learn at least a few bits of their language hours ago. He didn't even hope to learn how to read the weird signs and letters on the monitors or sometimes painted on the walls, but understanding just a couple of sentences could save his life if he had to make a run for it at some point. Perhaps none of them would try to look at his hands and he could pretend to be one of their... clones. He did not know what they called the Na'vi bodies in which sky-people were able to move their minds. He did not care about what they called them. He found the mere thought of that concept disturbing enough to not want to think about the fact that somewhere there must have been a human version of this two-legged monster in front of him. His entire body was shaking as he carefully licked his lips with his tongue, tasting something oddly metallic. It took him a couple of moments to realize his nose had begun bleeding at some point. His eyelids started to feel particularly heavy at the same time as he properly felt this lightheadedness set in. "He gave us what we need. Turn that thing off before you fry his brains out", the dark growl reverberated from the walls, right before the world went silent. This time it wasn't however because Mil'hō lost consciousness again. The headpiece was lifted from his head, which sank down onto his chest weakly. "See that's how I like my boys. Obedient", Quaritch's voice suddenly appeared a lot closer. The young Na'vi's eyelids were way too heavy for him to try and see who opened up the straps and freed him from the machine he never wanted to lay his eyes on again. His knees felt weak. Even before he could even attempt to make a single step of his own, someone picked him up and basically threw him across their shoulder. Mil'hō kept his eyes pressed shut for another minute or so, hanging uselessly in the arms of whoever was supposed to return him to his cell. "I.. am not.. one of his boys...", he croaked quietly his entire body opposing the tiniest bit of movement. A calm chuckle made his small figure shake. He didn't really know who he expected to be carrying him. Somehow the realization still felt like a punch in the face. "Don't worry. You Na'vi things don't really do it for me anyways", Mil'hō didn't understand what the tall man was trying to tell him, however, he began to feel motion-sick from being carried around like this after he had been stuck in that awful machine for what felt like an eternity afterwards. He tried to raise one of his arms, to press his hand onto his mouth, though Quaritch stopped him mid-movement by grabbing hold of his already weakened wrist. The younger Na'vi flicked his ears back and hissed right into the tall man's ear, who looked confused for a moment, before tightening his grip on the young warrior. "I hope Eywa will find something good to teach you a lesson with", Mil'hō growled quietly, closing his eyes slowly in the hope to swallow down the sickness he felt in his throat. Quaritch's tail flicked in a dismissive manner before he opened the door to the boy's cell with the press of a button. It moved aside swiftly, though he had to bow down to prevent his head from hitting the doorway. "They should've adjusted these sizes-... bloody assholes", hearing the rather familiar sound of the swearword Mil'hō's tail flicked in a careful movement. The pain still forced an uncontrolled hiss out of him. Quaritch dropped him to the ground rather recklessly and immediately reached for the knife the Na'vi had already noticed hidden in the pocket of his trousers. Why would he even wear clothes this restricting? He would probably feel like he was barely able to breathe. Especially because of the tight-fitting top the Colonel wore over his muscular torso. "Asshole", Mil'hō quietly mimicked now, cautiously raising himself from the ground and dragging the back of his right hand across his mouth and nose. There was a considerable amount of blood on his turquoise skin after he pulled his hand back to examine it.  The sky-people in the white labcoats did apparently want him alive for their procedures. Not entirely unharmed, but alive. He felt rather safe, even when he was accompanied by this monster of a Na'vi. "My tail. It hurts. I want to see my Tshaìk", he demanded blatantly narrowing his eyes to stare up at the tall man without getting dizzy from the lightheadedness he still experienced multiple minutes after the scientists had stopped working on him. His body really did not react too well to all the stress it had been put under in the past couple of hours. He had not had a proper moment to close his eyes and rest ever since the sky-people picked him up at the beach and knocked him out. Being unconscious did not feel like resting at all. He felt a lot worse afterwards actually. "I meant what I said before. You won't leave this ship without me, Boy. Either I'll come and pay your Tshahik a visit. Or you'll have to be happy with the medicine we have here", the Colonel bowed down a bit, to make sure the younger Na'vi looked him in the eye properly. Every fibre of his body resented the man before him, but the young warrior still held his ground. He slowly, provocatively bared his pointy fangs at the tall soldier and let his body tense up like he would attempt to outrun the Colonel blocking his only way out. "I don't want your medicine. And I will most certainly not take you to Ronal", he spat quietly and slid under the table, he had woken up on about two hours ago, with a swift movement. He could hear Quaritch coming closer. He knew that meant that he wanted him to know he was coming closer. He had noticed how utterly silent this man was able to move his ten feet body. It had amazed him, even though he hadn't actively thought about it yet. Quaritch placed his hand on the table and gradually lowered himself onto one of his knees to glance at the huddled creature hiding from him. "Look, Boy-... Mil'hō", the boy slowly raised his head when he heard his name being pronounced correctly, "I know you want to keep your people safe. I respect some good loyalty. But you telling us where to look for him back there was necessary." The young Na'vi did his best to not let his puzzle show on his face on which you could still see a trace of his own blood, which he had tried to wipe off. He knew he had only a matter of seconds to figure out how he should react to this new information. They thought they knew Jake's whereabouts. Before entering the machine, Quaritch had told him to just think about it. Could they have figured out the little safe-space he had tried to calm himself with, in the machine? It was the only clue he had. He was certain that he had not said anything. He knew he hadn't. So instead of reacting confusedly, he dropped his chin onto his knees, which he pulled closer to his own chest, and stayed silent. Now it was about making the Colonel believe he was actually deeply emotional about revealing something as precious as Jake Sully. And his family. His calm moment appeared to have passed, though Quaritch didn't even growl at him this time. "We're leaving for a village nearby at O eight-hundred. It's not your village. But you can speak to that... healer. In case they have one as well", he barked his commands, while he raised his huge body from the ground and made his way back to the door. His steps did not make a single sound this time.

(As I have received a couple of very nice comments during the last few days I just quickly wanted to thank all of you who are even reading this far for your time and I hope that you return for the next chapter! :) I don't have the energy to check for any spelling mistakes right now, I'll correct that tomorrow or so. But since one of my friends keeps pressuring me I'll let you read this now already. I hope you enjoyed!)