Life, Manufactured

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Stiles meant what he told Barnes. They would start as simple and easy as they could when getting him used to the invisible restraints until they could work up to him being - well, not comfortable, but not crawling out of his skin, either. Barnes knew this, everyone in that meeting knew this, and yet he still has an expression of surprise on his face when Stiles asks him to stick out only his finger.

"Really? A finger?"

Stiles sighs loudly. "I told you, we're starting small. That's the smallest thing I can think of right now, so yes. We're going to work on me immobilizing your finger. I'm letting you pick which finger on which hand, too."

Barnes just stares at him for a few moments before holding up his right hand. Stiles isn't surprised. He didn't think they would be working with the metal arm today. Or ever.

"Okay, put it on the table. Relax your muscles if you can." Barnes does as he's instructed, minus the relaxation part. That's why Stiles added on the if you can. "Which finger do you want me to focus on." Barnes shrugs and Stiles shrugs right back at him. "You have to choose. Want to be a little child and use the middle finger?"

That gets Barnes to relax a miniscule amount as he snorts. "Sure."

Victory for Stiles. "Okay. Unless you try to move, you're not going to feel anything. You won't see a visible difference. You will still be able to feel your finger. You just won't be able to move it. The immobility is going to be from the tip of the finger down to your knuckle. I'm going to count down from three and on go, I'll start. I'm then going to count to five. At the end of five, I will release and give you back mobility."

He leans forward and places his arms on the table, trying to show unconcerned posture for Barnes to mimic. "Again, you won't even know if you don't move. If you don't want to move, then you don't have to. And if this doesn't work or you want to stop, tell me and we'll stop."

He gives Barnes a few moments, but the man nods and squares his shoulders. Stiles wants to sigh, because heaven save him from self-sacrificing men. Hypocritical thought pushed away, Stiles nods in return.

"Alright. Three. Two. One. Go." True to his word, Stiles focuses his belief and his magic on just Barnes' middle finger. As he stares, he begins counting aloud so that Barnes has a focus on the ending. Stiles doesn't feel a push against the magic until he reaches the number five but he immediately releases the magic after the number has left his mouth.

He raises his eyebrows at Barnes, waiting for his reaction. The man is frowning at his hand as he lifts it from the table. "That was weird," he says after a few moments. Stiles can't help but grin because that tone of voice sounds more curious than anything else.

"Would you like to do the same finger or try a different one?" The curiosity fades away and Barnes' jaw clenches. He wiggles the middle finger and places his hand on the table. "Same thing. Countdown from three, go, counting to five, release. Okay?"

At Barnes' nod, Stiles begins. This time, as soon as his magic settles on Barnes' finger, he can feel the man straining to lift his finger. His breathing begins to pick up at three and if Stiles speeds up his counting, there's no one else to call him on it.

The man is panting like he ran a marathon but he also lifts his hand and makes a fist, articulating and manipulating his fingers. Stiles doesn't interrupt, lets him work his hand every which way, and process his thoughts.

After a few moments, still staring at his finger and working the muscles, Barnes lets out a huff. "It's different. It's not...hard." Stiles doesn't understand what he means, but gestures for Barnes to continue. "It doesn't feel like a restraint or a cuff or metal. It's just...air."

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