A/N: This story will mostly be told from Eddie's perspective, with occasional PoV from Waylon.

Warnings will be posted at the beginning of the chapter when needed, along with any other comments. This is just a recap of the Engine scene, so there will be a time skip in the next chapter set a little before he meets his precious darling, and span after their escape. Also, the events in this story will expand to about a month, which gives key points time to develop.

As always, I hope you enjoy~

He didn't look like the rest. From his plain clothes to the pained expression on his face, it was clear that he didn't belong. This man, this young man typing away at a keyboard while trying to keep his gaze averted from the engine, does not belong.

He looked so frail compared to the scientists and security guards surrounding him, so innocent with a pure heart; a sense of justice and right and wrong. This man whose body shifts from anxiety clear enough to be seen all the way down here.

No, he does not belong here. Not at all.

Wrenching himself from the grasp of the many guards and scientists roughly handling him, Eddie Gluskin makes a dash out of their reach and up the short staircase. He can feel his blood pumping at an impossible rate, adrenaline pushing him forward although all he wants to do is lie down and cry; or hide; or die, for that would be much better than this. This forced experimentation that leaves him clawing at his skin and eyes for hours after in an attempt to rid himself of the agony. They are raping him of all he has, dignity and self preservation thrown out the window, and it hurts. He can't take it, can't take this constant torture any longer. He needs a savior, someone to help him, just anyone –

"Help me! Don't let them do this! Don't let them!" He screams, pressing his body against the window and pounding on it. "You!" he shouts, targeting the technician, "I know you can stop this! You have to help me!" The plea tears through his throat as the young man behind the computer stumbles from his chair and steps back, wide eyes locked on his. Eddie tries to convey his need through their gaze, tries to show him how desperately he needed this to stop. The guards are pulling at his arms but he breaks free every time, running back to the window to his savior. Heart surging and breath hitched, their moment ends much too quickly.

"You have to…"

Something hits the back of his head, making him black out for a few seconds, and when he comes to he realizes that he's being pulled back. The hands gripping his arms and sides are twisting into his flesh and leaving harsh bruises and small cuts, but it only comes as a slight hindrance to his fight. He struggles against their hold all the way to the large sphere filling with a blue sedative liquid that has become all too familiar. Another guard rams what he assumes to be a baton against the back of his skull as they shove him into the container; through the daze, he feels them begin to force tubes into his nostril and mouth. He gags around the plastic tubing, tasting iron and latex on his dry tongue, and it causes him to cough and choke.

It is then that the light drizzle of some substance runs down his throat and into his system. Eyes flying open, he begins to panic. No, no, not this. Oh God, not this – I don't, he cries in his head as the liquid kindles a fire in his gut. Like the sun, it radiates through him and ignites his veins in a surge of gut-wrenching agony, spiraling up his body and constricting his lungs. The tube down his throat does nothing to quell the burning or help him breathe, so in minutes Eddie is beginning to feel lightheaded far too early. Their experiments haven't even begun and he's already reeling off the deep end. A drop of blood rises from a particularly painful cough and thins out in the blue liquid now surrounding him.

Soon, he is reduced to gentle groaning and closed eyes, having lost the strength to keep his eyes open once the sedative from the liquid kicked in. Absentmindedly, he wonders how he's able to float in this mess of blue liquid. It wasn't water, no; the fluid was much thicker but with a higher viscosity.

Viscosity, how did he remember that word from school? Chemistry? Is that where he learned it from? Eddie lazily shakes his head, sparking a jolt of pain to spread through his neck.

Something bright flashes before his closed eyes, but he can only make an outline of its image from where the light fades into darkness. A few seconds later another image flashes, and then another. It is almost hypnotic, psychedelic, watching these images burn into his retinas through lidded eyes. There's a pinch in his right eye from the next image, followed by a couple more in his left, but the ache is dull so he refuses to focus on figuring it out. However, he does muse over the scratching sensation blooming in his cheek.

Eddie groans and inhales a deep breath. The scratching in his cheek is now a burning which consumes the side of his face, fluctuating in intensity every so often. He hears someone say "Yes," from somewhere through the fog in his senses, but that could have been his imagination.

He had a great one, didn't he? Eddie mentally nods his head, this time remembering to leave his body as slack as he could. He imagined all of the touches that made his skin crawl and his heart ache, imagined all of the screams that somehow filtered into his dreams. The laughs of men. The cries of women. They were all a part of his imagination, right? Of course it was. Why else would these wonderful doctors be trying to help him get better? They were only saving him from himself.

The pain in his body dies completely and Eddie moans in relief. He feels so weightless in this glorious blue now, drifting through liquefied space as easily as a star or asteroid. No more pain or sorrow, he is free of all of that nonsense, for now. So in a relatively drunken haze, Eddie hums around the tubes in his mouth and lets his thoughts wonder. Wonder to a familiar song that reminded him of childhood. Despite the ache tugging in his heart, he begins to sing in a broken whisper:

"When I was a boy my mother… often said to me… Get married, son, and see…

how happy you will be…"