A/N: I really need to stop making new series and start finishing the ones I already have in progress. ;-; This one focuses more on psychological trauma, and what kind of influence the C-Virus can have over someone infected with it. Not for the faint of heart, it won't be a happy story and is bound to feature a lot of dark content, so I'm giving a fair warning now.

Pain was a familiar thing.

It wove itself around Piers like a slithering snake, threatening to squeeze his life away and swallow him whole. He couldn't breathe in his world of water, lungs coughing and hacking but he wouldn't pass out. An endless struggle, entrapped in a watery tomb that should have taken his life long ago. He sparked and spasmed, body lurched against the tides of his watery prison. The roots of infection had dug themselves in deep, leaving him fully aware within the depths of the ocean born hell.

He was suffocating; he should have died.

He couldn't breathe; he couldn't die.

The constant inability to claim a hold over his bearings kept him adrift, with no company outside of floating debris from the explosion of the facility that had taken place only too long ago.

There was no room to think.

Only pain. Only hurt.

Time no longer existed for Piers, and its length was unknown as it past him by long ago.

People, places. They were little more than far off memories, shut away in the back of his head and out of reach. He couldn't focus, he could only scream a muted wail as the pain ate away at him like some sort of disease. His movements sent ripples, unseen and unnoticed from the surface high above. He didn't know which way was up or down, left or right. He was only aware of the vast expanse of blue shimmering before mismatched eyes.

Piers didn't think of anything, his mind too encompassed within the presence of his own torment. He didn't think about his infection, about the B.S.A.A. and all that he accomplished there. He didn't think about all the dead soldiers or the lives he saved.

He didn't even think about Chris.

Yet, it was then that a miracle occurred.

The water carried him inside of it, twisting and turning him in an unwanted dance. But that's when it happened; something allowed him to break through to the surface with sand under his knees. Piers coughed and sputtered, lungs burning as they finally emptied the water they'd been drowning themselves with for so long. Oxygen burnt each time he managed to suck it in through his heaving body, throat sore from all his struggles as he crawled forward on his hands and knees to edge himself fully out of the water. His infected arm twitched and thrummed with every pulse of electricity that rippled through it, a once strong pain now dimmed down compared to his previous torment.

Once free of his imprisonment, Piers collapsed against the sand beneath his fingers and rolled himself to his back. His good eye blinked repetitively under the gaze of the moon and stars above. The area around him was quiet and comforting; the sight itself had never felt more beautiful after everything he'd endured.

Piers didn't know where he was, could hardly even remember what had happened. There were flashes, short images, but his memory had formed itself into a large blur. Thinking seemed to hurt, and all his body wanted was to rest. At last, after so many agonizing struggles, his mind folded in on itself and went blank.

Unconsciousness was a welcome thing.

Piers didn't know how long he was out.

When he came to, he was somewhere else entirely. The walls and ceiling were a dull gray, a gloomy solid hue that reminded him of the surrounding darkness within the ocean. It wasn't the same, no where near it, but it held a similar unsettling feeling that arose in his stomach.

He needed to get away.

Piers sat up with a suddenness, but hands were on him in an instant to push him back down. He squirmed under the hold, and a jolt of electricity snapped at the person to knock them away. In the absence of those hands, a second and third pair pressed themselves over him instead. He saw distorted faces; the scrubs of doctors and nurses as more people rushed inside. It only caused him to panic further, openly screaming under the pressure as restraints were woven over his arms and legs, then even his midsection.

Piers felt confined, another prison to replace the watery hell that he had only so recently come from. He was panicking, body jerking against the straps as a needle broke through his arm, weakening his attempts as the drug settled in.

No! He couldn't give in that easily!

His heart beat away a heavy rhythm to his ears, and the pulse of his arm mimicked it as he willed himself to struggle more. Piers knew that he had to fight, he had to stay awake - there was no telling what they would do to him while he was out! There hadn't even been a way to know if they'd already hurt him in the time he'd been there, he couldn't risk staying longer. He was frantic, and that caused jolts of electricity to flicker around the area, rippling across the span of lights above until they shattered into glass shards that skittered over top of the people crowded within the room.

Footsteps resounded as men and women scattered, screaming as the electricity spasmed across the area while many attempted to run to safety. Piers twisted in his position, mutation thrashing with sharpened spikes along the span of his arm, gradually cutting away at the bindings the more he struggled until at last they snapped. Lean figure sat up with a suddenness, an almost inhuman shriek emanated from the back of his own throat as his body jerked, multiple bolts of deadly light coursed from his mutation to spread further around the room, ensuring that the surrounding area was kept unsafe.

Pain rolled over the sniper in waves with every burst, but the desire for freedom and self preservation won out over his own torment as he threw his legs over the side of the table and leapt from its surface.

He needed to get out of there.

Piers could still hear the fading screams from the people as they scrambled and ran, but there were also approaching foot falls that echoed softly under the sound of his own screams. He collapsed to his knees, weak from the mixture of overexertion and whatever they had pumped into him.

Someone had crouched down next to him. Dared to place their hands over his shoulders.

Piers was on his feet in an instant, forcing the man up with him as he released an outcry, mind too jumbled to care about listening to reason as his good hand reached out, clasping a tight hold over the throat of the person. On pure defensive instinct, he threw his weight into the larger frame until it stumbled several feet backward into a wall. Piers didn't know where he was, didn't know who any of those people were.

All he knew was that he was hurting.

Bad. So, so bad.

Piers screamed, mutated limb raised and ready to strike-

"Piers, wait!" The man had called, both hands raising to show he meant no harm despite the grip Piers had over his throat. His sudden spur had taken a pause due to the familiarity of the voice, and Piers panted through clenched teeth as his mutated arm stilled, poised threateningly near the face of the man in his grasp. His fingers twitched over the span of neck muscles, loosening their hold enough to allow for room to talk with more ease.

"It's okay, Piers... They're not here to hurt you. They want to help," Familiar, why did he sound so familiar? Piers swallowed, still on edge and alert as people shuffled around behind him to try and get away.

"Calm down... Just try to calm down, okay? Think back. I need you to remember. Don't you recognize me?"

Piers hesitated, arm pulsing with a ripple of blue that threatened to spark toward the voice. He didn't let down his guard, nor did his grip waver or loosen any further than what he already allowed. His better judgement told him to fight, to kill for survival and flee, but his vision swam before him in a distorted blur and he had to take the risk of blinking rapidly with his good eye to try and clear it. The drugs, maybe they were what effected his sight-

He was asked to remember. Remember what? Piers could recall water, vast amounts of it; the burning in his lungs, the endless thrashing of his limbs in a struggle that he hadn't been able to win against. Before that... He had to think hard. There was a facility; he was standing in it, hurt. Infected. Ready to die.

There had been a monster somewhere outside, and Piers had felt the compulsion to kill it on a protective instinct. But why? For what? He tried to remember, and his brow furrowed under the stress. His head started to ache from having to put so much effort into it, and everything felt just out of reach.

Yet after a few determined moments, the pieces started to shape themselves together. Outlines grew more solid, details grew more noticeable. Piers observed the man in front of him as his eyes began to focus themselves, leaving behind masculine features that he recognized instantly. Mismatched eyes widened as far as his dazed state would allow, and he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not.

That face, Piers had known it well in a time before. He had to merge it with a name, something that didn't flow to the tip of his tongue as quickly as it should have. Strong, overpowering. A leader.

Captain.

That was it.

Piers felt his arm tremble. "Captain...?" He voiced his thoughts, his throat even more sore than it had been the since he crawled out of the water - all the screaming had done a number on him.

Chris nodded once to confirm it, "That's right. You're safe now." Brown eyes never averted from mismatched ones, holding firm to the gaze that eyed him suspiciously. Chris didn't move, he didn't lower his hands in any way, so as to try and convince the younger man to relax.

Piers was tense. Unsure. Perhaps even paranoid. "How did...?" How did he get there? How did Chris find him? Piers didn't know which direction he was going in with that question. So, he settled on something slightly different, but just as important all the same, "What happened?"

"They found you," Simple enough, though Piers had figured that much out already. Clearly. But who were 'they'? Did it really matter? He was safe now, wasn't he? He didn't feel like it. "The tide eventually pulled you to shore. We were called in to retrieve you and bring you back. You're home, Piers."

Home. Piers hadn't thought of home for a long time. How long? He didn't know, he wasn't even sure he cared. Piers struggled with the reality of everything, not quite believing what he saw and felt around him, if it was even real or if he was already dead. Was he dreaming?

Fingers tightened their grip at the thought, arm flickering back to life with sparks of energy. "How do I know that?"

Chris instinctively clutched at the hand around his airway, "We can show you! Piers, please-"

More footsteps. Several men filed into the room, weapons aimed at the ready, "Back up!" One of them shouted, only serving to irritate the confused sniper further. Currents of electricity snapped through the air, and multiple fingers twitched over their triggers.

"Wait!" Chris was the one to call it out, forced behind the pressure over his throat. "Piers, I wouldn't hurt you. You know that! Calm down!" He insisted, voice raspy.

Piers hesitated, gems of hazel and gray darted between Chris and the soldiers, as if in a heated debate with himself.

Dots started to align themselves over the Captain's vision, and he had to blink to try and remain focused. "Piers..." The name had the ace settling his eyes on the older man.

The soldiers didn't appear to have the same amount of patience or concern. "Back away, or we open fire!"

"Just shoot him! You saw what he did to those people!"

Piers was still tense, prepared for the worst until Chris had spoken again, "We take care of each other. Remember?" Piers paused at that, electricity faltering as mismatched eyes stared into brown. Piers was a monster, a disgusting, grotesque creature. If they took care of one another, how was it he had ended up that way?

"Piers! No, don't do this!"

The sniper snapped backwards, pulling himself free of the older man as his body surged with more energy. His good arm wove itself around his midsection, seeking even the slightest comfort in his world of pain.

Chris. He had been protecting Chris-

"Piers!" Chris was back on him in an instant, catching the ace as his legs gave out and collapsed under him. Strong arms held firm as Piers was slowly lowered to the floor, and they never left even as the electricity snaked over muscled biceps and had them both screaming in a shared agony.

Piers wasn't sure how long it lasted before everything had gone dark.

"He isn't safe to be around."

"We can't just let him go after this!"

"We don't know how many people he could kill if we let him free!"

Voices, both men and women. Unfamiliar in sound.

Doctors, nurses; they were in a different room, shielded off by thick walls. Yet somehow, Piers could hear as though the sound emanated from within the confines of his own skull, screaming a chorus in his head.

"We have to keep him under guard."

"It would be better to just kill him outright."

Kill him outright. Kill him outright.

Kill, kill, kill.

Mismatched eyes fluttered prematurely, Piers could feel the traces of another liquid as it pumped through his veins. He shouldn't be awake but his body adapted, it gained an immunity.

Curious.

Restraints had been put back into place, for what good it would do. These ones were larger in size and number, the people who had him in custody wanted to keep him docile. Still, the new restraints wouldn't be able to contain him anymore than the previous ones.

Piers could hear a heartbeat that wasn't his own increase its pump, "Piers? How are you-... You shouldn't be-" Chris. He was back again, also conscious.

Piers wondered how long he'd been out. "You were wrong." The words were stern, cold. They cut their way from his throat like acid, the tone accusing as he interrupted the older man. Mismatched eyes found their way to the side where they could meet with brown.

Chris had no idea what he meant by that. "Wrong? Piers, you-"

"Shh," Piers insisted before the words had finished their sentence.

"We just won't release him. We should still keep him for study-"

"It's not worth the risk! You saw what he did!"

Plump lips curled at their corners, a lifeless smirk left its mark over them as the mutated sniper listened in. Confused, Chris stood up from his seat to edge himself closer with slow, unsure movements. "Piers-"

"Does this look like I'm safe to you?" The ace queried as his head tilted against the pillows to eye the Captain from a different angle. "They're already trying to get rid of me." He warned, tone suddenly unnervingly calm.

Chris didn't understand. He couldn't. He partially wondered if perhaps the drugs were responsible for the way Piers had acted, but after their last meeting, he wasn't so sure.

"Help me."

Calm. Hopeful. Pleading. None of those things should ever fit together, and yet all of them were packed into the sniper's tone. He didn't look worried or hurt, just... Indifferent. Vulnerable. "You can do that, can't you?"

"Piers... No one is going to hurt you." Chris tried to convince the younger man, who refused to believe him.

Piers lightly shook his head, "That's only what they told you."

"We can talk it over with the others. We'd be a lot safer if that... Thing, is terminated."

Chris furrowed his brow, he wasn't sure what Piers was trying to say. As it was, he shouldn't have been conscious after all the injections they pumped into his system to keep him out so he couldn't hurt anyone.

Mismatched eyes slid closed, "You'll see." The sniper stated dryly, "They're coming."

They? "Piers, who are you-" Chris was cut off again as the knob to the door turned and opened the way for the doctor, who he glanced to as she entered and took a place on the opposite side of the mutated soldier.

How did Piers know?

The doctor frowned, "That's not right..." She uttered as she checked the different machines. She blinked and looked down toward the sniper as more of her colleagues filed into the room. "We have to move him. He won't be properly secured here!" The woman exclaimed as the other bodies pushed by to aid her, giving Chris little choice other than to back away a few steps. She pointed a finger at the Captain, "You need to leave." She was anything but kind about it.

Right, "What's going on?" Chris wanted to know. The man they had on that table meant a hell of a lot more to him than just another soldier on the field, and he'd be damned if he let something bad happen to him.

"We can't tell you right now until we can study his condition more." It was a half-lie, and Chris wasn't buying it.

He stepped closer, "We were under the agreement that nothing bad would happen to him. I want to be sure of that." He was stern, traces of his stature as Captain made themselves known.

The doctor sighed, "We don't have time! If he's awake now, he's proving to be resistant to the drugs. We can't risk him getting free, so we're going to move him to a more secure area under guar-"

"Where those men will be more than happy to shoot him at the slightest sign of trouble." Chris cut her off, he knew where things were going. Perhaps Piers had been right, after all.

The doctor insisted on denying it, "Of course not! We'll take care of him and see what we can do to cure his infection."

Lies, lies, all lies!

Piers could hear her voice crawling within his own head!

He deserves to be put down like the beast he is. First we'll remove his arm, get rid of that damn electricity. Then we can cut him open, take the insides while he's still conscious. Test the pain levels, see how extensive the regeneration is-

Mismatched eyes snapped open and sought out the doctor, who gasped under the force of his gaze. "You're lying." Piers stated simply, his tone little more than a whisper in volume.

Crazy fiend! Can't wait to get rid of it.

Piers lifted his head from the pillow as far as the restraints would allow, and the doctor found herself instinctively backing away. "I can hear you." The way he spoke the words had a chill coursing down her spine.

The woman swallowed and motioned toward Chris, "You see? He isn't well! We don't know what he's capable of and it isn't safe for us to keep him here!" She threw aside her pride in a feigned apologetic demeanor, "Please, please. Let us do our jobs and try to help him."

Chris seemed to hesitate, torn between the sight of Piers behaving so strangely, and the sudden change in the doctor's attitude. He didn't want to leave Piers, not after all they'd been through now that he was finally home. But if the doctor was telling the truth... He almost wasn't sure which to believe.

"Captain," The voice had brown eyes lowering themselves back to the sniper. Piers looked horrible laying there like that. Maybe he was sick, maybe his mind was twisted into a knot. But he was still Piers, still the man who had been so willing to freely give away his own life for Chris. That was all the Captain cared about, it was all that mattered to him.

With a new resolve, Chris turned back to the doctor. "If you're just moving him, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to come with."

The doctor scoffed, "There's no way-"

Chris was quick to cut her off, "It's either that, or I walk out of here and take him with me." Even if Piers wasn't in his right mind, even if he was just imagining things... Chris had to be there. Had to make sure.

The woman pursed her lips, "Fine. But once we prep him for surgery, you'll have to leave. We have to try and get the infection out and you'll only get in the way."

It was a start, and Chris gave a single nod as his gaze dropped back down to Piers who appeared more relieved. Mismatched eyes fluttered, now partially at ease with the knowledge that his Captain wouldn't be far away.