Jake could hardly recognize that the man in front of him was Piers. He only saw him twice, but both times he was full of fire. This... husk... was not. The virus was partly to blame, Jake was sure, but that wasn't the only thing. He'd never seen a man broken like that, and he'd seen plenty.

He'd heard the story. He knew that Piers was infected by the C-Virus. He knew that Piers should be dead. And just by looking at him, Jake could see that Piers WANTED to be dead. He'd come to terms with death. It... was unsettling even just to observe.

It was a couple hours after their rescue from the sea. They'd both been through multiple tests, but Jake was sure that Piers had encountered more needles than him. All of the personnel were wearing bio-hazard suits, and whoever even got close to Piers was armed to the teeth, and treated him like a wild animal. If he as much as looked at a soldier, 6 others would aim their guns at his forehead.

They had thrown the two of them into a steel chamber with chairs lining the walls. An odd choice, considering Piers' electrical abilities. Maybe it was another test for him. Maybe they just didn't care if he fried both of them right now.

Jake shook his head slightly to clear it, and turned his attention back to the new B.O.W. In front of him. His eyes, especially the right one, were glazed and dull. Both of his now-human hands were folded in front of him, his posture perfect, except for the slight slouch. He wasn't showing any sign of emotion. His youthful face, now a mask that was a few sizes to big.

Jake set a gentle hand on the young soldier's knee, with very little reaction from the recipient. He shook the knee softly, and tried to ignore its increased body heat.

"Hey, come back to the land of the living. Otherwise, I might think you're a zombie." He tried to joke. People were not his strong suit, especially people that hated him.

Piers blinked. It looked like even that little motion pained him. He moved his eyes to try to focus on Jake, but he didn't retain any of what he saw. He could feel his mind slipping, from the virus or exhaustion he didn't know. He just knew that if he fell asleep, he might lose control. That thought bounced through his head. That fear provided enough adrenaline for him to stay awake. Barely.

Piers's awful state bothered Jake more than he was willing to admit. This man, this hero, had saved his live at least three times, yet he literally couldn't do anything to return the favor. He made it his goal to never owe anyone anything. But there was no way to deny that Piers had won his loyalty a thousand times over.

Neither of them knew how long they were in that room, but it didn't really matter. It felt like days to Jake, and it felt like an eternity to Piers. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. Half the time, he couldn't even breathe. His overseers tried to give him painkillers and sedatives through an IV, but it hadn't done anything. He was pretty sure the bag wasn't draining at all. He didn't care why. The only thing he could do was focusing on not killing the room's other occupant.

But every day has its dawn. The refined iron door finally opened. Both of the inmates flinched at the unexpected light. Jake bolted to his feet, and Piers managed to tilt his head to look. A group of soldiers, all in hazmat gear, stood prepared to lead them somewhere new. No one bothered to explain where.

Jake was the only one willing to carry Piers.

As they passed underneath, the lights above them flickered and went out. The soldiers looked massively uncomfortable, and kept glancing behind them. Jake barely noticed, and instead focused on how Piers' right arm had started to throb with stolen energy, and how his whole body warmed up. Jake had no idea if this was a good thing or not, but it honestly looked like the life might be returning to him. That, at least, seemed good.

They were led up several flights of stairs to a helicopter, and forced into a glorified cage with the cargo. Piers now had to focus on not draining the helicopter of its power. Very soon, he was sweating from the strain. The flight seemed mercifully short, but maybe time had just lost all meaning to them. No way to know.

After they landed, another gaggle of soldiers led them into the new facility, Neither of them had any idea where they were. Didn't matter. This time, they were led through a labryrinth of sterile hallways, which led to a large hospital room, with four beds. Four beds, four teammates... it gave them both a bit of hope.

As soon as Piers was set down, all the lights in the room went out, and his arm was sparking with energy. Screaming, Piers was fighting life the best he could; trying to push out the only thing that could save him. He didn't want to be saved by this inhuman presence that flowed through his veins like a second heartbeat.

Jake could only sit and watch. It was all that he could do these days.

He watched as the last ounce of strength was drained from the soldier. He watched as the body writhed in a new wave of pain, probably because the virus was stirred on by the sudden voltage. He could only watch as Piers finally succumbed to the unconsciousness that he had been fighting for god-knows-how-long.

If Piers' demeanor seems different here from the prologue, that's because it is. I wrote this chapter first and liked how it turned out, then I got the idea for the prologue. So, that was totally on purpose. Anyway, I hope you enjoued the first actual chapter. See you next time!

-NWYW