Warnings: Angst, violence, language, sex
Pairings: If you need to know, please PM me and I will be happy to tell you.
Chapter Eleven
Heero was naked, his lean body strapped to an exam table and his arms, legs and neck held down with steel braces.
"Patient 8725 what do you feel?"
"I feel nothing." Heero's voice was a flat monotone.
He had never had much inflection, never had the lively candor of Quatre or Duo or the seething rage of Wufei or even Trowa's ever present sarcasm to color his words. But after he had self-destructed, after he had gone on his mission for redemption, there had been emotion in his voice, meaning behind his words.
It was all gone now. His blue gaze was unseeing, unfeeling.
The robed and masked lab technician pulled the knife out of Heero's leg and a rush of crimson followed.
"Patient 8725 what do you feel now?"
"I feel nothing."
"You must feel something," the technician insisted.
"Stimulation. Neurological response to stimulation." Heero sounded like a machine.
"And what is the response? Fear? Anger? Pain?"
"Nothing. I feel no emotion."
The technician turned to face the cameras.
"Commencing with Phase Four of the test. I will now remove the Patient's restraints."
One by one, he unlocked the restraints until Heero was free. But he didn't move.
The technician picked up the knife again, and Heero's eyes tracked its movement as it pierced his other leg.
He made no move to pull the knife out himself. No move to strike back or flee. He made no move at all.
"Patient 8725. What do you feel now?"
"Nothing," Heero repeated yet again.
The technician once again turned to the camera.
"As testing indicates, we have successfully surpassed the sympathetic nervous systems' mechanisms for the fight or flight responses. Patient 8725 demonstrates no desire to remove himself from pain or any desire for revenge. Recommend that we continue testing in the advanced phases."
The video feed abruptly cut out and Trowa was faced with a black screen.
"What the hell is this?" He asked. He couldn't - he didn't understand what he was seeing.
Beside him, Wufei stood up and started to pace.
Despite the fact that he was disturbed as hell by what he had seen, Trowa had enough presence of mind to register that - Wufei pacing - and enough coherent thought to know that it meant very bad things.
Wufei prided himself on self-restraint, on containment of emotions and movement. Pacing, like fucking, only happened when he couldn't hold himself in check any longer.
"This is Pax Ultima. This is… this is what killed Catharine and all of those others."