Collaboration with Glorifiedscapegoat.

Nezumi awoke in a new cage.

At first he thought it was just another of the unrelenting nightmares that had plagued him since he came to the Lab. Those that visited him while he was battered and drugged in the infirmary revolved specifically around being trapped. He often dreamt of small, cramped rooms, or impenetrable darknesses from which he could find no exit and no relief.

However, the cold bite of metal against his back, and the deep ache in his ribs told him that he was not asleep. But the view from where he sat, crumpled and aching, looked like some sort of fever dream.

Rows and rows of bleach-colored desks with silver accents spanned out before him. The desks had tiered glass shelving constructed above them, and every bit of shelf was crowded with little brown bottles, translucent vials, and large opaque jugs with red and blue and green caps. Every other flat surface was equally cluttered with laptops, microscopes, and varied stark white machines whose uses Nezumi could only guess at.

Men and women in white lab coats scurried back and forth between the desks, or rolled past on tiny black stools. Nezumi could see their mouths moving, but the noise was warbly, as though it were distorted underwater.

Nezumi shifted, clenching his jaw against the screaming protest of his bruised body, and looked around himself. He was no longer in a glass box, but a metal one, with thin latticed bars and barely enough room for him to sit with his legs stretched out. Nezumi was too sore and groggy to stand, but even if he could, there was no way the ceiling was high enough for him to do so. He could probably manage a kneel with a bit of space. The cage smelled of urine and animal fear. Nezumi had spent enough nights sequestered in barns and abandoned dens to know the scents intimately.

His stomach churned with hatred and disgust.

He had been stuffed into a literal animal's cage, likely a primate's, since that was the only animal used in medical testing that was comparable to a human's size. The floor beneath his hands was uneven and dusty. The cage had not been used for some time, and had obviously been cleaned since its previous occupant's removal, but there was no way to erase the stink of prolonged fear. Its painful history ached in Nezumi's head, an insidious accompaniment to his physical hurts.

How'd he end up here? Nezumi squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think back.

He remembered that fluttery man—Nosuke Hishimoto, was it?—coming in to tell him they planned to remove him from Rashi's jurisdiction and place him into Section F. After that, he had dozed. Lab Coat came to give him another check up some time later. The doctor's mood had been excited, frenzied. He barely seemed to be paying attention to Nezumi or his injuries, though he confirmed Nezumi had cracked a rib on his right side when Nezumi pushed him for an answer.

After that he remembered...nothing. He must have been dosed with something so they could move him. Now that he was digging around for hints, Nezumi had a vague recollection of waking several times, only to fall back under.

Was this Section F, then? Why was it a laboratory and not a prison block? It was obviously not outfitted to keep superhuman prisoners like Section M was. Nezumi opened his eyes and glanced around the room. There were other cages of varying sizes, but not a single one was proportioned for humans, so this was not an older cell block. This was literally a defunct animal testing area.

What the fuck?

A clear glass pane separated the cage area from the lab proper, which was why the voices were muffled. Nezumi leered through the window until, finally, one of the lab techs noticed. The man stopped dead in his tracks, the vial he was swirling going still in his grip, though the pink liquid inside continued to rotate around the glass. He turned his head and said something to the girl at the nearest desk and she glanced back. They exchanged an annoyed, uncertain sort of expression and rifled around in their pockets. They pulled out small, pink earbuds and crammed them into their ears.

Scramblers. Nezumi's stomach twisted. Ugh. Shit. He hadn't even thought to Reach around and check if the techs were wearing protective devices. What was wrong with him? He had pretended to play along with the Lab so long, he was actually becoming the passive, pathetic creature he pretended to be.

He had already told himself he wouldn't let despair conquer him any longer. It would do him no good to wallow, and it would not bring Shion back to him. Rashi was no longer an obstacle, thankfully. He had been removed, which meant Nezumi could finally stop worrying about being terrorized and beaten, and actually begin to think again. He had to start planning anew in order to survive, starting with gaining more information on his whereabouts and possible resources.

Nezumi could see one of the lab techs approaching from the other side of the glass and arranged his expression into blankness. He wasn't sure how this new handler would treat him, so it was better to appear checked out and gauge what he could from their body language and introduction.

The lab-coat clad woman opened the door to the room, but she was still engaged in an across the room conversation, and wasn't looking at Nezumi at first.

"I still think it's stupid we have to wear these things," someone muttered.

"Yeah, well, it's an order from on-high," the woman said, fiddling with the scrambler in her ear. "Don't wear it if you want to test the boss's wrath. Let me know how that works out for you." Her conversation partner's reply was lost in the hubbub of the laboratory floor, but the woman laughed lightly and finally turned to face Nezumi.

She looked less like a 'woman' than a girl playing dress up. She was stout and short, with a round baby face and dyed strawberry blonde hair. Her mouth pulled into a friendly smile when she noted his look of blank confusion.

"Hello," she greeted in a sing-song voice. "So glad to see you're awake! You slept for quite a while. Any longer, and I was going to ping the boss to see if we needed to give you a stimulant to counter the anesthetic."

Nezumi narrowed his eyes at her chipper tone.

"There's no need to be scared," she said gently, her smile ratcheting up a few degrees. "We won't touch you, promise. We've been instructed just to make sure you're comfortable and take your pain medication. Only the boss will do any tests, if they're needed. My name is Anita. You can call me Annie, if you like. You go by… Uh." Anita checked the clipboard gripped against her chest. "VC-221? Wow, do we have that many test subjects already...?"

Nezumi wasn't fooled by her sociable demeanor. Perhaps this girl wasn't an outright sadist like his previous handler, but she was certainly no innocent or ally. Her slow, convivial way of speaking to him made Nezumi feel all the more like a little pet she was boarding for its master. He might as well have been a chimpanzee, for all the compassion she'd shown towards him so far. But Nezumi decided to take advantage of the girl's good humor to try to glean more data on this place and his situation.

He shifted closer to the front of the cage, monitoring Anita's reaction as he did so. She didn't back away, and her expression remained friendly. So she didn't see him as a threat. The predatory part of his mind purred with satisfaction.

"Um…" Nezumi started, biting his lip and affecting a low and uncertain tone of voice. "You said I can call you Annie?"

Anita perked up. "That's right."

Nezumi offered her a smile. "You can call me Nezumi, then. VC-221 sounds a bit…" He winced and chuckled lightly, as if he were embarrassed. As if they were in on some sort of joke together by exchanging nicknames.

He was rusty at flirting and flattery, but apparently that didn't matter. Anita responded with a little laugh of her own, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He could see the scrambler bud nestled there, but what did that matter when he had natural charm? Nezumi had never needed his superpowers to attract a woman.

"I'm still a bit groggy from the anesthetic, I think. Officer Hishimoto mentioned I would be moved to Section F when I woke up?"

"Oh, yes, this is Section F."

She glanced back at the bustling laboratory. Since she was standing in the open doorway, Nezumi could hear the sounds of rapid footsteps and clinking glassware clearly. Something broke, the bright crash of glass on hard tile, and someone cursed colorfully.

"We don't usually have subjects up here. But it was an order from the boss, so." Anita hugged the clipboard back to her chest and shrugged.

Nezumi decided to take a chance and said, "Yeah, this cell is a bit different from the one I'm used to. Not exactly...human-sized."

Anita blinked, and a light flush spread across her freckled cheeks. "Oh… Yeah. Um, sorry about that. This is the only holding area we have…. We've never had to keep subjects up here," she said again. "Section F is for research, not… Well, not for holding the subjects themselves, you know?"

Research? Nezumi's heart beat double time. His eyes performed another quick sweep of the laboratory on the other side of the glass window.

"Oh, yeah, it's alright," Nezumi said kindly. "I know you're doing your best with what you have, Annie." Anita's shoulders relaxed at his understanding. "I guess your boss needed me closer to the research team, then," he fished.

Anita twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. "I guess? I'm not sure, really. I mean, only the boss knows. Us techs are only supposed to interact with you to make sure you're healthy. Are you feeling alright, by the way? That's why I came in here. Do you need any pain medication?"

Nezumi's body did ache, but the pain wasn't anything worse than he had to bear in the past. More Lab-gifted hurts to add to his collection and remind him why he had to fight, despite the exhaustion tugging at his body. But he could feel Anita starting to pull back from him with this question, and he wasn't about to let his only line to the laboratory disappear.

"No, I—" Nezumi made a small sound of pain, pressing a hand over his bruised ribs. "Ah. Well, actually, yes. That might help," he murmured with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Anita blinked rapidly at him, concern clouding her face. "You poor thing," she warbled, burying her hand in her lab coat pocket and approaching his cage.

Nezumi leaned slightly away as Anita crouched down and her fan of gold-pink hair brushed the bars. This girl really didn't view him as a threat. If not for the scrambler in Anita's ear, Nezumi might think that she knew absolutely nothing about him or the nature of his powers.

Did this girl—or any of these techs—get briefed on me? Or is it just "Boss Says" here and no one asks questions? Who was their boss anyway? The mad doctor? Hishimoto? Someone else entirely? Why in the hell would the top brass move me here?

He started a riot, the Lab had murdered the only person he loved, and he had been cruelly victimized by one of the Lab's own. Shouldn't they consider him a high risk of retaliation? Even if the doctors and other officers were completely convinced that Nezumi had been reduced to a depressed submissive, wouldn't they at least keep him in minimum lock down?

But stuffing him in Section F, in a chimpanzee cage, surrounded by people who spoke freely with him, sympathized, and felt not an ounce of fear in his presence…. That felt like peak laziness. An afterthought. Something was seriously messed up about this situation.

And Nezumi would be damned if he didn't take full advantage of the weakness while he could.

"Here," Anita said. She placed her clipboard down, opened a small front panel of the cage, and held out a silver bottle of what looked like lotion. "It's a soothing agent. Rub the ointment on whichever places are giving you pain, and you should feel relief in a matter of minutes."

Nezumi thanked her demurely and took the bottle. He made sure his fingers brushed hers, and was pleased to notice her stiffen and avert her gaze. A few more meetings with this girl, and he might even be able to talk her into freeing him, without even needing his powers. As for now, finessing information out of her should be child's play. All he needed to do was act as innocent and nonthreatening as Anita seemed to believe him.

Nezumi peeled the top of his jumpsuit down—it was new and clean, he realized. Someone must have gone through the trouble of washing him—and uncapped the bottle. Gingerly, he applied the lotion to the brown and green mottled skin stretched over his ribcage. The effect was instant: a coolness began to spread over his ribs and he let out a soft breath.

"This is pretty amazing stuff," Nezumi said. "Is this the kind of thing you make in Section F?"

Anita was staring at his bare chest, eyes wide and lips pressed firmly together. Nezumi stripped down expressly to capitalize on her desire, but his skin crawled with barely repressed disgust. This woman was a Lab employee. Irredeemable filth, who knew exactly what the Lab was doing to human beings, who gave them the research and tools to harm and enslave their subjects further. He wanted to reach through the cage's open front panel and wrap his fingers around her neck for daring to look at his body like she owned it.

But no. He swallowed down his revulsion and let Anita admire him like the fine specimen she no doubt considered him. His bruised torso and face apparently didn't ruin the fantasy for her.

"Um…" Anita said dumbly. She tore her attention away from his chest and met his eyes. Her cheeks colored at the insinuation held in them and she dropped her gaze to the floor, snatching up her clipboard and holding it to her like a ward. "Uh, yeah. I mean, we make medications for the infirmary, but we do other stuff, too. Like the VC serum, tranqs, weapons…."

Nezumi's jaw tightened. Weapons and tranqs. A ripple of anticipation traveled down his spine. If he could get out of this cage and get ahold of any of those things, he would be well on his way to escaping Horizon Labs. Seriously, what glorious fucking imbecile do I have to thank for moving me up here?

"Oh!" Anita glanced up, alarmed. "But I'm not on any of those teams! I just do the medications. The weapons research is all the way on the other side of the floor, so you don't have to worry."

Nezumi drew his eyebrows together and half-smiled at her in question. Anita's blush became more pronounced.

"I know that at the last place you were, the head officer hurt you…." Her gaze flicked over his bruises, and her mouth turned down at the corners. "You don't have to worry about that here. We'll treat you well. I promise."

"Thank you, Annie, that means a lot to me. It's been so long since I've felt safe." His smile was meaningful, deferential in a way he suspected would appeal to Anita's sense of benevolence.

Anita smiled back. Her face was tinted pink like her hair, almost the same hue as the scrambler bud nestled in her ear. Nezumi longed to snatch the odious little thing from her head.

"Miss Amano," growled a low voice.

Anita startled and scrambled to her feet. "Shou," she said, the name loaded with emotion. Nezumi knew immediately that his little tete-a-tete with Anita was over.

The newcomer was rail thin, dark-haired, and stubbled. His lab coat hung off his wiry frame like a hand-me-down Halloween costume. The man leveled a cool look at Nezumi, his eyes traveling over his bare chest. His mouth pulled into a long, disapproving line as he settled his gaze back on Anita.

"Miss Amano," he sighed. "I know you have a soft spot for animals, but may I remind you that the VCs are dangerous? They aren't to be played with or pitied."

And in case Nezumi forgot what Horizon Labs was really like, here was its garden variety dick to remind him. Nezumi shot a sweet, sultry smile at the man, and he flinched as though physically struck.

Anita's shoulders bunched. "Don't be a jerk, Shou."

"It's Mr. Murata now, Annie," Shou snapped. "We're not dating anymore, and I'm your superior, so you'll show me the respect I deserve."

Anita leaned back, eyebrows sky high. "Oh, really? This is how it's going to be, huh?" She shook her head and muttered, "Asshole," as she pushed past the man and strode into the lab.

Shou glared at Anita's back until she disappeared, then turned his displeasure on Nezumi. "Don't talk to her ever again. I know your tricks," he hissed, gesturing to his scrambler. "They won't work here."

"Well, then," Nezumi said, tugging the jumpsuit back over his upper body, "you have nothing to fear. I can't do anything as long you keep your scramblers in."

Shou squinted at him, trying to figure out his game, but Nezumi's scheming was only in its infant stages, so the man could get nothing. The virulent tech muttered under his breath and stepped only far enough into the room to slap the cage's front panel closed and lock it.

"Someone will bring you food around 5. Lights out at 8. Behave yourself." Shou turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

Nezumi sat back and watched the lab techs bustle around through the window, the rusty wheels of his mind slowly beginning to turn again.