Chapter 4

A/N Warning. This chapter has medical "oscopy" procedures described, but not in great detail. Damon continues to be a victim of mishandling.

Kneeling behind the vampire, Bull removed his hand from Damon's face and let his head sag forward, a position that did not allow staring. Or possible compelling.

"Damon, can you talk?" the doctor asked as Bull pulled the T-shirt up over the captive's head. He took hold of Damon's hair to hold his head up so they were looking at each other. The smile was gone and Maxfield could see the anger in the blue eyes. Although the vampire moved his lips, no sound came out. Nevertheless, the doctor recognized the lip movement and that the first letter was F. "Oh, that's right. You can't talk because you can't breath. Minor detail, right? Well, that's alright. I don't want to listen to your smart mouth anyway. Bull, lay him down flat."

"Why are we taking his clothes off?" Bull asked.

"I want him naked. And maybe I can get the clothes washed. They're a mess and they do stink. Come on, take his shoes off."

Bull sighed and moved around to Damon's feet. He could see that the doctor was expecting him to do all the work. He removed the shoes and the socks and was relieved that they didn't smell like sweaty gym shoes. "I never thought about vampires wearing socks," he said. "Of course, I don't usually think about vampires at all."

"I'm sure that's true," Maxfield said. He reached for Damon's belt and was able to undo it one-handed, but he left the rest to his assistant. He watched Bull struggle to remove the jeans and the briefs underneath. Although the captive continued once again to stare at Bull, the football player wouldn't look him in the eye.

Once Damon lay naked, the doctor noticed that Bull was staring at the vampire's groin area.

"What?" Maxfield asked.

"He looks like a regular guy."

"So? What were you expecting?"

"He's a vampire. All strong and powerful. I thought he'd be bigger down there. You know, supersized or something."

"I'm sorry he disappoints you. Maybe when he's aroused he's more impressive."

"Yeah. Maybe. I mean, not that I care or anything. I'm not into guys, you know. It's just that …"

"Never mind. Come on, Bull, pick him up."

Damon glared at the young man. How dare he insult his decent manly parts? His member was in the upper range of normal size, for heaven's sake, and performed very well, thank you. He'd received plenty of compliments. What did Bull know anyway? Big guy and probably under-sized. Jealous, most likely.

Bull managed to get the vampire up into his arms. "He could use a bath. You ought to throw him in the wash with his clothes. He stinks."

"It's because he has blood on him and he's been sick."

"He's got a dirty butt," Bull growled as he carried Damon from the cell. He only hit the vampire's head a slight blow on the metal door frame. "Sorry, dude."

Damon aimed nasty mental thoughts at Bull, but he couldn't tell if the big guy was aware of them. He wasn't staring at the football player, due to the fact that his head was flopped way back as his body rested in the strong arms.

"I didn't give him any toilet paper," Maxfield said. "I didn't give him anything. He's right. I've provided poor accommodations. Maybe I'll correct that."

Now that it's too late and I've got a messy cell and a dirty butt, Damon thought with disgust.

They entered the room that was used for experiments, examinations and surgery. There were several tables meant for procedures, like an operating room table, a metal morgue table and an examination table with stirrup attachments for anything involving the pelvic area.

Damon got a quick glimpse of the room. The equipment looked new, but it was not a lot different from what he remembered from all those years past. It sent a wave of nausea and fear through him, but he kept his face expressionless.

"Put him on the metal table," Maxfield said, pointing to the one he meant.

Bull walked to the indicated table and braced himself against it to lower his burden down. Like the other tables, this one had wheels and they were not locked down. The table suddenly swerved sideways and Damon landed on the edge. He crashed to the floor, flat on his abdomen.

Maxfield yelled at Bull. "Damn it! Pick him up. I'll lock the wheels."

"He's got a cut lip again," Bull said after he rolled the vampire onto his back. "And a nose bleed. And a bump on his forehead. I'm sorry."

Damon's face hurt and his head was ringing a bit from slamming onto the tile floor. He concluded that it was not safe to be carried around by Bull. Not that it was his fault that the wheels were not locked, but still…

Bull laid the vampire on the bare metal and looked at him. At the moment, the blue eyes were closed. He felt sorry that he'd dropped him again. Maxfield handed him a blue towel and told him to pinch Damon's nose with it. Bull did as he was told, even though he was wary of the blood. He wasn't squeamish about it now, just concerned.

"What are you going to do to him?" he asked the doctor, while still holding the nose. The towel covered Damon's eyes, so Bull couldn't see them.

"I've got a bunch of new oscopy scopes. It's a new interest of mine. Has nothing to do with my field of expertise, but I want to learn to use these scopes," Maxfield said with enthusiasm and lifting a sheet covering a table. Revealed were a group of black things. They came in various lengths and diameters, but mostly they looked like long, flexible black tubes, some inches long, one a good six feet long. Several were thinner than a pencil, while one was as thick as a person's thumb.

"I think people are most familiar with colonoscopy. Do you know what that is, Bull?" Maxfield asked, toughing the thicker one with a finger. He then touched several of the others, admiring them.

"My father had a colonoscopy done last year. He told me all about it. Said the doctor stuck this long thing up his rear. It had a light and fiber optics so he could see up inside my dad's bowels. Dad and Mom were afraid he had cancer in there, but the doctor found a bleeding plop."

"Polyp."

"Yeah. The doctor snipped it out and had it tested. It wasn't cancer. That was good news. Just a plop."

"Well, I'm glad your father had good news. Anyway, they make these instruments in all sizes so you can also look into a person's nose and sinuses and down into their lungs or stomach."

"You got one of them six-foot ones here. You gonna stick it up his butt?"

"Not tonight. Sometime tomorrow. First I have to start an IV so I can give him more vervain. If I don't, he'll start moving in a while."

"How are you gonna do that with one hand?"

"I can use my left hand. It's just that supporting my arm with the sling makes it less sore. My elbow hurts."

"Oh. You know what? I really don't want to watch you stick stuff into him. Can I leave? I ought to be in bed by now." He pulled the towel off Damon's face and dropped it on the floor. The nosebleed seemed to have stopped.

"See that door over there? There's a small lounge and kitchen. You can make coffee or have a couple of beers. There's a couple of recliners and a TV. Go make yourself comfortable and I'll call you if I need anything."

"Cool," Bull said and he walked away.

"I assume you heard that conversation and can anticipate what I'm going to do to you," Maxfield said to his "guinea pig." The captive opened his eyes.

Damon couldn't answer, but he did know and understand about the scopes. Years before, in the hands of Augustine, he had experienced a bronchoscopy where the doctor put a non-flexible scope into his mouth, down into his trachea and to the bronchial tubes of his lungs. He had also had an esophagoscopy where the scope went from his mouth, down his esophagus and to the upper part of his stomach.

Both these procedures had been very uncomfortable with his head pushed way back so that the straight metal tubes of those days could pass straight in. They were quite rigid and it was like swallowing a dull sword. He had been restrained and not fully paralyzed and he had fought against the procedures, making it much more painful. In fact, his jaw had been broken and his upper teeth had been badly chipped. The jaw had healed quickly, but it had taken a month for the teeth to repair themselves back to normal.

Augustine had also performed a cystoscopy using a different rigid metal instrument to look up into Damon's bladder. That too had been very uncomfortable. Now, Damon could only hope that the newer, flexible, smaller instruments would hurt much less, perhaps not at all.

He had hoped the vervain would start to wear off and he then might fight Maxfield and overcome him. That hope faded when the doctor successfully started an intravenous infusion that included diluted vervain. It made a burning sensation in the vein and it kept him paralyzed.

"You are a mess, Damon Salvatore. A bloody mess. Let me feel your nose and see if it's broken. We wouldn't want a crooked nose on that pretty face of yours, would we?" He pinched the nose until he thought it was straight.

The doctor had a wonderful time trying out his new instruments. He poked a hole in one of Damon's ear drums so he could see the tiny ear bones. He looked way up into the vampire's bloody nose and found the openings that led to the sinuses in the face under the eyes.

Damon had to take the pain of this probing around without a word. He also felt like he was drowning because Maxfield squirted saline water inside in order to clean the blood out of the way. In no time, Damon had a throbbing sinus headache.

The use of the flexible bronchoscope and gastroscope was much less painful than the use of the old rigid instruments and that was a relief to Damon. To his surprise, the doctor left the last instrument in place, down his throat to his stomach.

"Tomorrow you get the colonoscopy," Maxfield said. "But tonight you have to take this medicine to really clean out your intestines. I know you won't drink it for me, so I'm going to feed it to you through the scope. As you can see, it's quite an amount. It will take some time, so relax. Ha, ha. Like you have any other choice."

Damon continued to send evil thoughts and nasty words the doctor's way. He was sure the man knew he was angry.

"I'm going to go get me a cup of coffee and take care of some things while I wait. See you in a while."

So, Damon lay naked on the cold metal table while the medicine ran from a plastic bag slowly into his stomach and on into his intestines. The aches of the various probings began to fade and he felt better physically. If only he could move. He wasn't even restrained on the table. He was just lying there like a corpse in a morgue.

He wondered if Maxfield would really wash his clothes. It seemed unlikely. Why would he bother with something like that? Damon had gone through three sets of jeans and shirts while Augustine's prisoner. Once in a while they were washed and he was glad to put them on. Most of the time he was naked.

With the drone of the television in the background, he must have fallen asleep because he woke suddenly when someone touched him. He gave a start and opened his

eyes. Maxfield and Bull were there beside him. He suddenly realized that he could move. The vervain was wearing off!

He reached up to grab the doctor's shirt, to pull them together, intending to rip into his throat with vampire teeth.

"Oh my Gawd!" Bull cried, stepping back. "Look at his face! And he's got red eyes! And fangs! Vampire!"

A/N Thanks, guys, for reading and following and commenting. I'm working on the next chapter. I should have it ready in a week.