Locked up and tortured but refusing to sell out the people he loves, Nathan tries to flip the loyalty of an old friend in the hopes they'll help him escape.
*****
Just when Nathan...
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"Come on, Nathan," Birdie tried and moved the plate closer to me. "Don't do this."
I just kept staring at the wall. I was on day three of not eating or drinking at all. I was getting pretty delirious. I had a hard time sitting upright because I was swaying. Or was the room swaying? I clenched my eyes shut and opened them again, trying to focus.
"Nathan, dying of thirst and hunger is not the way to go. Your organs will start shutting down, and you'll feel every single one do so. Your heart is the last one to go. Nathan, please." He was actually pleading me. Begging me. He pushed the bottle of water closer. "It's not drugged. I don't want to force it down your throat, but I will if I have to."
I blinked in response. He could try.
He sighed very deeply and looked over at Dean. Dean nodded. Both of them jumped up and got me by surprise. Birdie grabbed my head and forced it back, his fingers in my mouth. I growled at him and tried to snake my way out of his grasp... But come on. I never had a chance here. He was double my size and weight, and I was dehydrated to a point where I couldn't think clearly anymore. I grew out my fangs, and that sure got Birdie's fingers out of my mouth very fast.
"Nathan, come on!"
"Let me die!" I growled as Dean pulled me up on the table and pinned me down on it with his massive hands on my shoulders. Birdie crawled on top of me and trapped my arms with his knees. As he had me securely fastened on the table, on my back, Dean could hold my head still. He pinched my nose, forcing me to breathe through my mouth. Birdie more or less shoved the mouth of the bottle almost all the way down my throat. I could either drown right now or drink. Of course, my natural reaction was to swallow.
I tried to struggle and squirm, but Birdie was heavy as a boulder, and Dean wasn't letting me move my head. When I had finished the entire bottle, they finally let me go. Birdie slid off me, but I just stayed on top of the table.
"Why are you keeping me alive?" I asked hoarsely.
"Because those are our orders," Dean replied.
I sighed deeply and turned my head to the side, looking at him. "Fuck your orders. Fuck the FIB. Fuck your general. Fuck your superior officers. They're all just humans, telling other humans to do shit. Fuck your country, fuck your accent and most of all, fuck you."
"Very eloquently put," Dean muttered and sat down on the chair next to the table.
I sat up and rolled my jaw. I felt a little better having drunken some water, but it also took me away from my goal.
"Nathan, if you die you won't see your family again," Birdie said and put both of his hands on the table.
"Oh no," I breathed and rolled my eyes.
"You won't see Che."
"Because me staying alive will ensure that. Because I'm not really captured. This is all just temporary, and the FIB will realise I never did anything fucking wrong to end up in prison. They'll totally give me and Che a house, car and a pet dog too. We'll live happily ever after as a fucking suburban couple." I sighed deeply and looked over at Birdie. "And world hunger, racism and war will all disappear."
