Sorry this one is short; I figured this part needed to be on its own. Part three should be up soon. Enjoy!
He woke up a few hours later alone in the room. He looked around nervously, hoping that the scientist and his gorillas weren't somehow hiding in the dark. Satisfied that he was truly alone, he backed himself into a corner, discovering in the process that the chains securing him to the wall had been lengthened just enough for him to do so. He pressed himself into the wall, trying to make himself as small a target as he could, inadvertently rubbing his back against the rough surface of the concrete wall and reopening the wounds the doctor had inflicted. He hissed in pain, and reached one of his arms around to his back, with one touch affirming that the past few hours had not in fact been a dream. The twin gashes ran from his shoulder blades to his waist, exactly where his wings had formerly been attached. His shoulder blades still protruded from his back, as they had before, only now the skin covering them had been scraped clean of feathers, leaving them rough. There was dried blood all down his back; apparently the doctor didn't believe in post-op cleanup. The only obvious thing that marked him as a mutant was the feathers Zarkov had left on the back of his neck, like some sick joke. In frustration, Warren tore at them, pulling them out in clumps.
He sunk to the floor, completely defeated. Why him? Why now, after he had actually begun to accept the mutation? He strained at the chains, hoping that they would give. But, as he had expected, no luck. He sat back down, curled up into a ball, and hoped that the other X-Men would figure out where he was, since it was becoming increasingly obvious to him that there was no way he was going to get out of here on his own.
He slept, mainly because there was nothing better for him to do. Occasionally the doctor would come in and taunt him, or try to get Warren to tell him where the other mutants were. But somehow he managed to refuse every time, even when the consequences for staying silent became almost unbearable. He was covered in bruises and cuts, and by the time the X-Men finally found him, he was nearly unrecognizable as the cautious but charming young man that had shown up at the school looking for a place to stay.