#okay so maybe i am biased but if you guys don't gush over fionn i will be very upset

[avvail-whumps]

‘the facility’ — pre-breakout 2/3

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content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, dehumanization, non-con drugging, unethical medical practices, interrogations, violence, blood, slight gore, torture, drug-induced torture, reluctant whumper

Noah realised, with a somewhat growing feeling of discomfort, that his Apoid was right. 

When he was escorted to his room, the first thing he noticed was that all of his things had been tranfered from Level One and neatly placed in their respective spots. All of his books were organised and stacked onto his shelves, and his clothes were hanging up and folded in drawers when he had a quick peek. There was never anything decorative or special about their rooms; the scientists spent the most important part of their days in the laboratory or with patients.

He jabbed the lock on with a sudden echausted sigh. He hadn’t even realised it at the time, but he’d been so tense that his muscles were almost aching. He forced his shoulders to slouch, eager to peel his white jacket off and dump it in the laundery basket.

He was more tired than he realised.

His eyelids were drooping and the enticing looking bed was becoming more tempting by the second. 

It wasn’t much different to his room on Level One, but there was more privacy. He switched the light on in the bathroom and realised it was all for himself. He fiddled with the shower before stripping off all of his clothes, and hopping in. It was steaming hot against his sticky skin, but it felt nice to scrub off all the stress grime that had built up. When he was done, he got himself ready just as the lights dimmed by themselves. 

That was usually the time he was supposed to be asleep. 

Maintaining a healthy sleep schedule was greatly encouraged in the Facility, and who was Noah to argue with the simplist of rules? He wasn’t eager to get terminated so early on over something so silly.

As his head hit the pillow, his thoughts unwillingly drifted towards Cash— or no, Prisoner Seven. They weren’t meant to know their names, otherwise that would humanise them too much. Noah had been told that these men and women were anything but human, having done unspeakable things. He tried to keep clinging onto that thought as he drifted off to sleep, dreamless and relatively pleasant. 

He was harshly awoken hours later when the lights brightened up again, and a small, sleepy groan escaped his lips. He clambered onto numb legs, untwisting them as he made his way into the bathroom, the cold tiles biting into his bare feet. He cleaned himself up until he was refreshed, and slipped into his normal attire. A white coat draped over his frame, and he looped his new lanyard around his neck. This time, it had a large number nine instead of one. His stomach swooped, before tearing his eyes away anxiously. 

Maybe he would feel better after some food. 

When he opened his door and turned the corner, he wasn’t expecting to bump into something hard. His feet skittered backwards slightly, and his head snapped up in shock to be met with an Apoid standing by his door. From the way he turned to look at him, Noah was swiftly able to deduce that this was his Apoid, the one that was apparently assigned to him. His foul mood suddenly came bursting in, and he couldn’t help but frown in annoyance. 

“You,” he dryly muttered under his breath, staring at the face completely hidden by the blackened visor of his mask. “What are you doing outside my room?” 

He’d asked the question on instinct, but again, he hadn’t been expecting the Apoid to actually respond. The modulation in his voice made his spine tingle again. 

“I’m assigned to you,” he spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to be heard. “Personally.” 

Noah anxiously fiddled with his white collar. He knew that, of course, but his stomach was tightening from hunger and he didn’t feel like standing around like a log for much longer, staring at a faceless guard. He swerved around him, feeling a twinge of annoyance when he started following closely behind. His steps were slower and much more measured than his own.

“So does that mean you’re going to follow me around everywhere?” 

The guard was quiet now. Noah couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Then how about you at least tell me your name?” He tested hesitantly, glancing behind him for a brief second as he walked towards the direction of the refectory. “Since you’re not going to leave me alone for a while.” 

The Apoid shook his head. “I’m not authorised to tell you that.” 

“You’re also not authorised to speak to me, and definetly not in front of other patients,” he countered. “But you did that anyway. You’re doing it right now.” 

The modulation grew sharper, exemplifying his annoyed tone. “That was different. It was necessary.” 

“And?” Noah shrugged, stopping just before the corner to turn and glance up at him. “You know my name. You’re my Apoid, why can’t I know yours? Who’s going to know?” 

The Apoid stepped closer, prompting Noah to back up in a flurry of fear. “Keep moving,” he growled, and only spoke when they had cleared the corner, and resumed their original pace. “It’s Fionn.” 

Noah’s eyes perked up. 

“Are you—?” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Is that Irish?” 

“I’m not authorised to tell you that.” 

His smile faltered. It was strange to even hold such a delicate piece of personal information on somebody like an Apoid, who he always saw as black blocks of protocol and intimidation. He was eager to ask him more questions, but as they approached the refectory, it became busier along the wide corridors, and Noah wasn’t going to risk getting caught breaking protocol.

It was a little uncomfortable to have Fionn hovering over him while he ate, but Noah noticed that some other scientists had Apoids hovering beside them too. Fionn had even nudged him gently and quietly asked if he’d taken his supplements. 

Noah had forgotten, and he went to retrieve them. Seeing as he was maintaining Noah’s health, the small conversation they exchanged wasn’t a problem. 

Personnel came to retrieve him quickly enough. 

He was taken to the laboratory where he found himself quietly working on the drug that would later be used for Cash’s scheduled time in the torture room. There were other scientists present in the big room as well, but Noah had swiftly learned to keep his head down and dilegently match their vigorous work effort.

Fionn was close by, and although it had put him off at first while he worked, time sped by quicker than it ever had before. He had been working on the toxicity of a liquid form of this drug which was labelled TN-6, when Personnel came to collect his again. 

Noah’s sense of time was so warped, he wasn’t exactly sure how much time had really passed. 

He could feel his heart starting to pound in his chest as he moved through the layout of the hallways, back to that sordid room where he was first taken. He’d taken a sample of the TN-6, as requested by Personnel, making sure to take the one with less toxicity. He assumed the point of the session today would be to test to natural defences Cash’s body would impliment when infected by the drug, as well as monitor how it affects his vitals. 

That’s what Noah assumed until he saw an interrogator waiting in the torture room. They always wore dark orange bands around their arms to signify their job, as well as a dark balaclava mask over their faces to hide their indentities. Noah had never seen one before, since Level One was incredibly tame and torture was barely required. He lowered his things down on the desk against the wall, eyeing up the prepared tools for him to use. 

Practically similiar to yesterday. 

Instead of a table in the middle of the room, there was a chair fixed with strong metal cuffs on the arms and ankles. The interrogator was leaning against the wall, arms folded and finger tapping periodically. Two Apoids flanked the door as usual, and Fionn had stayed very close to his side the entire time. He eyed the big machine, no doubt for him to hook Cash up to to monitor his vitals. 

Noah let out a shuddering breath. Shit. 

He’d never witnessed an interrogation like this. Not with an actual interrogator. Part of him was unnerved that a drug he’d hardly tested was being used on him already, especially knowing the possible consequences of it. Then again, if Cash went into critical condition, it would be Noah’s job to nurse him back to health in the infirmary. At that thought, his nerves were suddenly set alight. 

Even as Cash was escorted inside, and restrained to the chair without so much of a challenge, his head was still swimming with a mirage of different thoughts. It wasn’t until he met the hardened eyes of the interrogator that he realised he was meant to proceed.

The Apoids had already stripped Cash of his shirt, telling him they’d probably already been briefed on what was going to happen. He had to steady the tremble in his fingers as he worked, hooking his patient up until everything seemed to be working as it should. 

Cash was staring at him again like last time. 

For some reason, it was really puting him off. Perhaps it was because this was going to be his first time witnessing whether the rumours about Level Nine were true. That the constant, brutal torture made prisoners believe that death was a mercy. 

He carefully checked over his notes. He used a sharp syringe and measured out a small dosage. Noah’s head felt incredibly light as he wiped down a puncture point and prodded for a vein, keeping his hand steady and breath even. 

For just a second, he hesitated.

Cash’s voice was quiet next to him. “Don’t hesitate now, doc.” 

Noah grit his teeth, and slowly injected the drug into his body. He ignored his piercing eyes as he straightened up, taking his spot beside the wall by Fionn. He noticed a slight movement as his masked gaze followed him, but of course, he was as silent as ever. 

Watching the interrogation reminded him that nothing could have prepared him for the brutal violence and ruthlessness. Cash already reacted instantly to the drug, and Noah noted down every little thing he could see in his whirring, fuzzy brain. Dilated eyes. Sweating. Claminess. Shortess of breath. Papaltations. The interrogator violently bloodied up his face despite his vulnerable state, not holding back as he spat questions and derogatory language that even had Noah wincing. 

It was a hard pill to swallow. 

It settled unpleasantly in the bottom of his stomach, turning sour and uneasy. 

The amount of times he wanted to step forward and put an end to it launched itself from his heart more times than he could count. No matter how much he kept his eyes on the machine or the notes clutched in his hands, he still couldn’t erase the noise of Cash’s painful torture, his teeth grinding together as he fought back against the agony.

It seemed to last forever, too, but Noah had completely zoned out. He remembered some of the words from the scientists from Level One; “toughen up now”. He realised he wasn’t prepared, nor ready for this.

Once the effects of the drug wore off, the interogator wiped off his bloody fists, cursing angrily under his breath. Cash’s hair was disheveled and messy, sticking to his clammy forehead. He was panting hard, rigid, tense limbs trembling under the restraints.

Fionn had to gently nudge his side to snap him out of his spinning thoughts.

Noah remembered how to breathe, very suddenly, as well as the rules that came crashing into him.

He set his clipboard down, and went to tend to Noah. He gently lifted his head back, shining a small torch into his eyes, watching as they barely shrank to accommodate the glaring light. He swallowed, shakily opening his mouth to speak.

“Can you look at my finger and follow it, please?” He asked softly under his breath, just for Cash to hear. He eventually did so, but kept scrunching his eyes in an attempt to see better. Probably dizzy. Noah noted all of that down.

He even found himself folding a small square piece of cloth, and dabbing away the sweat soaking Cash’s forehead. It was building up everywhere, down his neck, soaking over his bare torso, but Noah opted to keep his hands occupied with his damp hair instead.

“Are you okay?” He whispered before he could stop himself.

He knew protocal was delicate and he shouldn’t even be thinking about asking if a prisoner was okay, but he couldn’t help himself. Even with his tongue all twisted and tied, this was something surreal. Cash didn’t respond. How could Noah expect him to after that? He sucked in a sharp breath, diligently mopping up his sweat with shaking hands. 

He had to pull himself together. Even though there was only the sound of Cash’s slurred, ragged breathing, it felt like everyone was watching him. He pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“I’m going to take him the infirmary,” Noah decided, levelling the convinction in his voice. He turned to both the Apoids and the interrogator. “Can we please transfer him to a free wing?” 

Like clockwork, the Apoids moved into action. Considering this was Noah’s expertise, if the scientist wanted to conduct in the infirmary, then they were allowed to. More Apoids flooded in, and Noah waited patiently as they rolled out a gurney, fastened with those same cuffs and leather straps. He remained planted where he was, suddenly hearing a quiet noise from Cash. 

Noah spun around, his eyes wideneing slightly. Cash’s face was crinkled in pain, and the sweat had come back in force. His lips wobbled again, and Noah leaned forward, bracing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Cash,” he whispered, and then promptly corrected himself. This was a prisoner. They weren’t people and they didn’t deserve names. His expression hardened. “Are you okay? Could you speak up and tell me what’s wrong?” 

Another breathy wheeze, but Noah could sense he was trying to say something through the bruises and remains of the drug in his system. His heart twisted in guilt; it was hard to stomach. He leaned in closer, straining to make out those grumbled words. It was his job that his patient was in good condition, and that helped when he had feedback. 

But apparently, feedback wasn’t what Cash had in mind at all. 

Before he knew it, Fionn had surged forward, and the air was knocked out of Noah’s lungs when his arm violently shoved him away. Gloved fingers grasped awkwardly into his arm, digging into the flesh, and Noah winced as his watery eyes glanced up. Cash was straining against the restraints, his face twisted in anger and his teeth bared viciously, suddenly much more lucid than he seemed to be before. 

Black Apoids converged on the scene like little bugs, and Fionn ushered Noah protectively away from him. When he realised he was gripping his arm tightly, he let go, black mask tilting in his direction. He looked as though he was going to say something, but then stiffened, and turned away. 

Noah swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Guns were pointed directly in Cash’s direction, and he caught the glimpse of a needle heading for his neck. In a beat of adrenaline, he surged forward. 

“Don’t,” he snapped, causing the Apoid to stop. “I don’t trust the effect a sedative will have on his health. Let him calm down; in his condition, he can’t put up a fight.” 

He wasn’t quite sure why, but he was shocked that the Apoid listened to him so quickly. The needle, that had just been hovering dangerously by his patient’s exposed neck, disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Noah let out a sigh of relief, stepping back to clear the space so they could effectively transfer him over to the gunrney. Although Cash was tense and looked ready to bolt, he was no match for the Apoids. He was successfully restrained down to the gurney, blindfolded and gagged, despite Noah not being pleased with that, and swiftly wheeled down in the direction of the infirmary. 

Noah let out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. He gently rubbed the sore spot on his arm, cursing his ignorance and almost getting himself killed. Getting too close to a patient like that was stupid, and almost rule number one in the Facility. He was so stupid. 

A voice caught him off guard. He hadn’t even noticed that the room had almost cleared out, Cash’s disappearance easing the thick fog of tension that had built up. 

“Are you okay?” Fionn asked quietly, and Noah stepped away from him, his heart pounding. For some reason, it was all the way in his throat. This had shaken him to his very core. 

“I’m fine,” he snapped, hurrying for the door. He tried to ignore the guards posted on the doors, or the fact that Fionn was shadowing him as he went. Except, it seemed with every footstep of his Apoid, his heart yearned to match it. One step, two step, one beat and another beat. He took a deep breath, and soon, Noah felt like he’d shaken off some of that crawling pressure. 

Personnel in charge of the infirmary made him confirm Cash’s time of arrival and wing, before he was allowed to take care of his patient. He was strapped down securely, and against the stark white curtains and beds and furniture, he had the opposing blackness of Fionn and two other Apoids to keep him company. Cash remained relatively subdued for the most part, where Noah made sure his health would remain positive and monitered his vitals for any adverse effects. The next day, he could implement his research into improving the compound. 

He rubbed his eyes wearily. He was doing this for a reason; he had to keep reminding himself of that. Every day he worked was another day for his sister. 

Noah made sure Cash was checked in overnight, giving him plenty of time to recover, and was finally scheduled to go back to his room for rest. He considered keeping himself busy with some exercise, but he decided going to sleep early would do him some good. Before he stepped into the threshold of his plain room, his shadow spoke once again. 

“Hey.” 

Noah blinked, turning around with heavy eyes. It was easy to forget that his Apoid was behind him every step of the way. He squinted at him. Fionn was frozen for a moment, before his hand dipped into his pocket, and he tossed him something small. Noah scrambled to catch it. 

“For your arm,” he spoke quietly, as if anyone could overhear him. He was stepping out of line doing this, Noah realised as he glanced at the small tube he’d given him. It was a soothing cream. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that.”

Noah looked up. “You mean…for doing your job? It was my fault I got too close.” 

Even though there was nothing but black behind that helemt, and Fionn held himself in a way that indicated no body language, he was sure he could sense the change of expression. The doctor bit the inside of his cheek, smiling gratefully up at him. 

“But thanks,” he mumbled. “You know you’re not allowed to do that.” 

Fionn didn’t move. “I know.” 

“You’re full of surprises, Fionn,” Noah laughed breathlessly, and he gripped the cream firmly in his hand. “I’m going to get some sleep I think.” 

The Apoid tilted his head. “You have two hours to spare.” 

“I know,” he sighed. He was exhausted, and he needed to sleep on what had happened today. His mind was all over the place. “I need the extra hours. Sorry for making you wait outside.” 

He assumed that when the lights went down and it was his schedule kicked in, Fionn would almost rest and sleep the hours away until he was up early and ready outside Noah’s door for when he had to work in the lab. Noah only assumed that he’d be making Fionn wait outside for a couple hours before that happened. 

“It’s my job,” Fionn responded coolly, and motioned for himself to leave. Noah considered wishing him a good night, but that would more than likely be inappropiate. Before he could think about it, the door slid shut, and he was left in silence. A loud, heavy sigh fell from him, and after peeling off his clothes and changing into comfortable ones, he collasped on his bed, and fell fast asleep. 

That didn’t last long, however. 

Noah was tortured by horrific nightmares. All he could hear were bone chilling screams, feel coppery blood dripping off his hands, and cold dead bodies by his feet. He had tried to race over them, staggering over bloated corpses, all while Cash’s writhing and injured face haunted his mind. He’d done that; subjected him to that awful torture. 

Before he knew it, he was scrambling out of his bed, slick with sweat and a scream dying on his lips. His fingers dug into his throat, desperately trying to suck in some air, and blearily looked around his room. The lights were still on. Did that mean—? 

He stumbled to the door. When he opened it and poked his head round, Fionn was still standing there. It mustn’t have been that long, and Noah ran a shaking hand through his hair, slick with clammy sweat. 

“Fionn?” He croaked, and the mention of his name made the soldier’s head turn, alert. He blocked the doorway, keeping his voice a low rumble as he spoke. 

“Don’t adress me by name like that,” he warned, his voice going deadly, but still with an ounce of concern upon seeing Noah’s disheveled figure. “What’s wrong?” 

He sucked in a sharp breath. He still felt jittery and uncomfortable, like he’d look over his shoulder and see mangled, putrid corpses gurgling his name. He ran another hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I just had a nightmare,” he admitted. Fionn didn’t respond, because why would he? He and Noah were both trained vigorously to follow protocol, those being that they weren’t allowed to know any more about each other than what it said on a scientist’s name tag. Yet, this had all been a spiralling shit show, and he couldn’t handle it. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

The Apoid didn’t move. Didn’t even tilt his head. “There’s nothing I can do.” 

Noah stared at him pleadingly. “Fionn,” he choked. “I won’t be able to sleep. I just can’t. Can’t you just…” 

Fionn was a stranger. But he was less of a stranger than anybody else in this place. 

“I cannot enter your room unless it’s an emergency,” he murmurs quietly, and Noah’s head throbs. He lets out an aggravated huff. 

“That’s so stupid,” he hisses, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “This is an emergency. Please, I just need ten minutes.” 

Silence. It was like staring at a statue, and Noah gave another huff, pressing his palms against the back of his eyes until he saw stars. He grumbled under his breath, trying to ignore the stinging tears of frustration at his eyes.

Noah would just have to make an emergency then. 

He looked around the room, and took a few steps back, clearing his throat. It forced him to relax an inch, taking his mind off all those horrifying images beneath his eyelids whenever he blinked. He picked a good spot, and then stared at Fionn blankly.

“Oh, no,” he flatly exclaimed, turning in a circle slowly on the spot. “I feel dizzy, Fionn. I think I’m going to fight.” 

Cold silence greeted him, but he was committed. He made a convincing moaning noise, holding his head woozily. Noah pretended to sway, elegantly placed himself on the ground, and then slumped into an unceromonius position. He even heard a sigh coming from Fionn, and it almost made him laugh. 

“That’s not going to work, Noah,” Fionn spoke, and it was the first time he had uttered his name since they’d met. Still, Noah didn’t move. Silence sprouted in the air for eight seconds (he was counting) before Fionn spoke again, this time, his voice breaching with annoyance, and no modulation could hide that. 

“Noah,” the Apoid sighed, and he forced himself not to laugh. “Noah?” 

Then there was another sharp sigh, and footsteps started towards him. When the door slid shut behind Fionn, Noah opened his eyes, and finally sat up, smiling up at him. Gloved hands settled on his shoulders and helped him up to his feet, and Noah realised that his heart wasn’t racing so much anymore. The adrenaline had simmered down, and didn’t feel so hot around the collar. He glanced up at the Apoid, surpressing the smile. 

“Both of our contracts are going to be terminated,” Fionn murmured in warning, guiding Noah to the bed. He helped him take a seat, and moved to grab a bottle of water. He took it with a sly smile, chuckling breathlessly. 

“You know I didn’t actually feel dizzy,” he joked, but gratefully took a swig, the cold water seeping into his bones and cooling him down. He released a quiet breath, wiping his forehead carefully and relaxing into the mattress below him. His smile faded, only for a moment, and Fionn’s head tilted as he watched him. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks quietly. Noah looks up at him through his eyelashes. 

“A little better,” he admits, keeping the bottle close. It feels cool against the skin of his palm. “I knew that Level Nine had a reputation, but…” 

He trails off, the words dying uselessly on his tongue. 

“I thought that it wouldn’t be this bad,” he whispers softly, staring at his lap as his lips curved into a frown. “I thought that the reason why I was here would make it so much easier, but - it doesn’t. I don’t have the guts for this place.” 

Fionn is quiet, just listening to Noah’s words. When he wipes his eyes, he notices that he’s stepped closer, and he takes a seat next to him on the bed, his rifle slung over his back. Noah stares at his own reflection in the blackness of the visor.

“I’m doing this for my Ma and Pa,” he tells him, his voice ever so quiet, like they were telling each other confidential secrets. “I’ve been here for almost three years now.” 

Noah looks at him hopefully. “And does it get easier?” 

His head shakes from side to side. “No,” he answers grimly. “It gets much harder.” 

Noah presses his lips into a thin line, and the bottle crinkles slightly as he grasps it tighter. Their contracts lasted ten years. Ten years without seeing his family, without knowing what sort of recovery his sister was making. It would be torture, and it made him want to cry. This had all been for her, and he couldn’t just leave. He’d told himself that he would endure it all, just for her, no matter how hard it got. He wondered if Fionn told himself the same thing. 

“Would you like to hear a poem?” The Apoid suddenly spoke up. Noah’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but regardless, he nodded his head. He could use a distraction - anything to help put his mind at rest. “It’s my favourite. By William Butler Yeats, called The Second Coming.”

As Fionn gently recited the lines, Noah discovered the answer to his earlier question. That yes - Fionn was Irish. The hint of an accent slipped through as he spoke, like it was completely natural for him. Noah closed his eyes, letting the soothing words wash over him. 

It made him see Fionn as more of a human than another faceless, robotic Apoid, and it was a very comforting thought.

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