Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Characters: Hood, Scott. Rating: T. Warnings: None

Drabble challenge from scribeofred: "I don't want to rush this, I've been waiting a long time for this moment so I want to be able to take my time with you." with Scott.

His head killed. There was a pounding that he equated with a particularly nasty hangover - not that he'd had enough downtime to drink enough for that since he was a teenager - and a dull nausea that was just enough to keep him on edge.

Not the best way to wake up, but that didn't seem to be the worst of it, either. He was sitting on a hard surface - a floor? - but his hands were raised and his wrists were lodging their own complaints alongside his pounding head.

What the hell had happened? Scott wracked his brain, but all he could remember was getting off of Tracy One and heading towards the New York business district for yet another tedious meeting with investors. Certainly nothing there to account for his current predicament, even if he sometimes wished he could drink himself into a stupor after dealing with those people.

He peeled his eyes open, wincing at what little light was seeping into wherever he was. It was still mostly dark, but he could see enough to know that it was small and made of stone.

Well, this screamed kidnapping, which was more than a bit frustrating. The fact that Kayo wasn't already busting him out of there suggested the culprits had at least a little sense, which was mildly concerning.

"Good morning, Scott."

That voice was more than mildly concerning, and he turned his head to see the silhouette of a man near what must be a door.

"I'm glad you've finally decided to join me," the Hood continued, voice honey-silk and dripping with insincerity. "I was beginning to wonder if you weren't as resilient as people said you were."

"What do you want, Hood?" he spat, trying to straighten and hearing chains clinking from above him. His wrists reminded him that they didn't like their current position.

"Why the hurry?" the man dismissed. "Although I must confess this was not my first choice of location. Unfortunately, your friends in the GDF were quite thorough in seizing my assets during my brief time in their hospitality, and the more lavish accommodations are - for now - out of my reach."

There was a quiet click and hidden lights flared on, illuminating the room and man properly. Forced into a sudden squint, Scott was very concerned by the cuffs revealed by his ankles. It didn't take a genius to figure out what those were for.

"Still," the Hood smiled - the cat that had spied a cornered mouse and was planning on playing with its food - "this will suffice."

Scott pulled his feet towards himself - or at least tried to. The action was sluggish at best, and the Hood merely sighed as he caught one and stretched it back out again. Attempts to free himself were stifled by what had to be whatever drugs were in his system causing the hangover-like pounding, and the clank of cuffs sealing shut sent his heart racing.

There was no doubt that - until Kayo arrived, and where was she - he was at the Hood's mercy.

"I suppose I could answer your question," the man hummed thoughtfully. "What do I want? There are many answers, but the most pertinent answer would be…" He paused, and there was that cruel smile again. His left eye glinted oddly in the lighting. "You, Scott Tracy."

"What do you mean?" Dread pooled in his stomach; he'd expected the answer to be more along the lines of International Rescue, or even you'll make the perfect bait for my niece, but not him. Why would the Hood want him?

"Precisely what I said," the Hood replied, withdrawing two objects from a pocket. Both glinted as they were exposed to the light. "Do stay still, won't you? This will only hurt more if you don't."

The smaller item - whatever it was - vanished back into a pocket somewhere. A hand gripped his chin firmly, pressing his head back against the wall. The larger item entered his line of sight and he couldn't stop the flash of fear.

A scalpel.

"Now, I don't want to rush this," the Hood said. Scott threw all his energy into trying to get out. Get away. The drugs and restraints held, and the Hood's eyes were full of amusement. "I've been waiting a long time for this moment, so I want to take my time with you."

The pounding in his head was joined by the rush of his blood as his heartbeat picked up. Faster, faster, and he couldn't breathe as the cool metal kissed his skin.

"But this part of the process won't take long," the man continued, even as the scalpel bit in and blood started to trickle down his skin. "It's only a simple operation."

It bit deeper and Scott gasped, clenching his teeth and trying to move away. The Hood's grip was like a vice.

"Don't struggle," he chided, as though he was talking to a small child. "You don't want me cutting the wrong thing, now, do you? The brain is oh so very delicate, after all.

Brain?

What was the Hood doing, what was he after-

The scalpel dug deeper and a short scream tore itself from his lips.

"Almost done," the Hood assured him, as though that was supposed to be reassuring. Scott didn't want him to succeed in what he was doing, wanted the pain to stop, wanted his family to find him and get him out of here.

The scalpel retreated and he let out another inadvertent gasp. Long, spidery fingers dipped into a pocket and withdrew the smaller object from earlier.

It was a microchip.

Oh. No. No, no, no, no, no, Scott didn't want that going near his brain.

It was enough to flood his system with adrenaline, giving him the strength to wrench his head free from the Hood's grip, if only for a moment before he was recaptured, the grip tighter and harsher than before.

"Too little, too late," the Hood smiled, suddenly in his face with those wide sickly-yellow eyes. The right glinted again, shimmering until the eyeball was replaced by something clearly electronic. "You're going to be mine, Scott Tracy."

Something pressed into the incision on his head, foreign and intrusive, and another scream tore itself from him.

Pain. Frustration. Sheer, unadulterated, terror.

"I'm going to enjoy training you up."

Thanks for reading!
Tsari