Warren entered the war room. His face was solemn. "How long have you been here, Scott?" He wanted to know.
"What's the deal? I'm not sure. I must have lost track of time." Scott responded. He wasn't feeling well after the unearthing of memories. He shook his head at the thoughts that arose.
"What happened? You look pale." Warren fluttered his wings and rested his hands on Scott's forehead.
"You're not feverish." Warren kept fussing over him.
Scott didn't seem to notice what was going on around him. Warren's voice sounded distant as if it were far away and muffled, and he appeared dazed. His ears were ringing. His heart thudded in his chest. Sinister had completely messed with him. "You worthless piece of shit." A voice in his head exclaimed. Jack winters. He felt like throwing up.
He remembered his abusive foster father beating him up if he didn't obey him. Scott had opened the door to the place where he and Jack Winters lived one evening on his way home from school. He was discussing breaking in somewhere.
"Of course, we're bringing the kid. You've seen what he's capable of. Without a gun, the little freak packs a punch. This is useful!" The man talked on the phone. "How am I supposed to know how he does it? Do I give a damn? "Uh-oh, speaking of which..." When Jack noticed Scott standing by the door, he began to ramble. "I've got to go. My secret weapon's home." He then hung up the phone.
"Yer late, kid." Winters snarled. "You weren't wastin' time makin' nice with other kiddies, were you? I told you not to talk to anyone…"
"Wasn't me. The bus was late." Scott interjected.
"The bus was late. Sure, I believe you. Don't try to front me, kid. Do you think I don't know how bad you wanna bail on me? Reminder time.." He let out a growl. "I own you. And if I feel like it, I'll kick yer face in! You're nothing without me! I'll beat you till that's all you know." Winters yelled. "You hearin' me?" He screamed, and Scott averted his gaze, on the verge of tears.
Scott was hit in the back by a rusty wooden chair thrown by Jack. The impact caused the chair to break. He grabbed Scott's hair and drew him closer, shouting, "Maybe I should have 'Jack Winters' branded on your forehead, huh?"
"D-don't." Scott gasped in fear.
"Don't what? Man, I'll kill you without thinking twice." Jack barked in rage. "That what you want?"
Scott remained silent. It was always preferable to remain silent. He was afraid that if he said anything, he'd be beaten up again, or worse, killed.
"That's what I thought. Don't forget what you owe me, kid. Who found you when you were running from the cops? Who didn't send you back to the orphanage? Who got you the red specs so you wouldn't be such a public freak?! That's right. Me. And that's why I own you." Jack Winters yelled as Scott wrapped an arm around himself, sagged his shoulders, and exited the room.
He walked into his bedroom. It appeared shabby, and worn. In anguish, he sat on a box in the corner, broken and bruised.
Warren squeezed his hand against Scott's shoulders. "Take a long, deep breath. It's okay. I've got your back." Warren said, clasping his hands. "Come on, take a deep breath with me. Take a deep breath."
Scott inhaled and exhaled as he heard his muffled voice. He followed Warren's instructions, feeling each breath enter and expel his lungs.
"Please tell me five things you can hear." Warren proposed.
"Your voice," Scott said. "The ducts," he went on to say. When he heard Warren's wings flutter, he came to a halt. He sighed and said, "Wings." The machines could be heard whizzing by. "The system," and when he heard the wall clock tick, he finally said, "the time."
"You're doing a good job." Warren soothed him. "Make a list of four things you can see."
Scott focused on his hazy vision. He tried to make sense of the shapes in front of him. "Red..." he murmured. "The buttons."
"Go ahead." Warren was optimistic.
Scott muttered, "You." Warren gave a nod of approval. "There's a paint chip on the wall." He took a deep breath and finally said, "The chessboard."
"Excellent." Warren kept returning him to the present. Scott reappeared after a brief moment. He turned to face Warren. The blonde hugged him tenderly. Scott drew Warren into his lap and rested his head on the other's neck as if he needed the contact. He took slow, deep breaths as he tried to decipher the notes he detected on Warren.
"Citrus," he thought to himself. Warren looked at him, perplexed. "What did Sinister and Winters do to me, Warren?" Scott, distraught, wondered aloud.
"Would you like to discuss it?" Warren was curious.
"No, not right now. All I want to do is hold you." Scott mumbled.
Warren talked reassuringly into Scott's ear. He was mindful of the fact that he was still anxious. They remained like it for quite some time until it was time for dinner.
Warren stood up and moved away from Scott. Scott drew him back in instinctively, refusing to let go.
"Scotty, I need to get up and spread my wings. It's also dinnertime. You should eat something."
"No. I just want you." Scott pressed his face against Warren's neck.
Warren kissed Scott on the lips. He gave him a delicate look. "That's fine. Just a few more minutes." Scott concurred.
A few minutes turned into twenty. He sympathized with his boyfriend's predicament, but he was also starving. His stomach grumbled. When Scott heard the noise, he looked up. He eased his grasp on Warren. "Thank you." He simply spoke.
Warren smiled as he pecked Scott's nose. They locked their gazes until their lips met in a hot and desperate kiss.