Author's note: Please take note of the warnings I gave in Chapter 1.
Chapter Two: The Captors
Fitz and the others sat inside the cell, stunned at the realization.
"You're certain we're in space?" Coulson asked Fitz.
"Positive," Fitz confirmed, with a definitive nod.
Deke listened to his grandfather explain the specifics of the noise the engines were making and how he knew that it had to indicate that they were on a starship. Deke felt chagrined that he hadn't recognized this, but he silently reminded himself that although he had spent most of his life in space, he was no engineer like Fitz. Deke had hardly even noticed the noise.
"So someone knocked us out with a new weapon, split our team by gender, and shot us into space," Coulson summarized. "Who the hell has us, and why?"
At that moment, the team heard the swish of doors sliding apart, followed by the sound of boots on the ground. Davis and Deke had been sitting down, but they scrambled to their feet so as to meet their captors standing up.
Three men entered the area outside of the cell's airlock. Although the Watchdogs didn't wear uniforms, the three were instantly recognizable as members of the group. They wore dark, pseudo-military clothing topped off with combat vests. Two of them wore black hats. They looked somewhat unkempt; their clothing wrinkled, their facial hair not well-maintained. Fitz even silently mused that the particularly hateful expressions on their faces indicated that they were Watchdogs.
"Look what we have here," the Watchdog in the middle began. "A bunch of inhuman-lovers. Repulsive."
"Yeah," another Watchdog piped up. "Literally 'inhuman-lovers' in some cases. We got that one," he gestured at Mack, "who actually is sleeping with an inhuman, and that other one," he gestured at Coulson, "who thinks he's the surrogate father of another one."
"She's hot though," the first Watchdog said. "Maybe he's banging his daughter. I would."
The third Watchdog had a confused expression on his face and pointed at Fitz. "And we have a sissy wearing a skirt."
"It's called a kilt, you fucking idiots, and it's very masculine!" Deke shot back. He had not been as well-trained as the others; the SHIELD agents knew to control themselves and not take the bait. Two of the Watchdogs laughed at Deke's outburst.
"What do you want with us?" Coulson asked, his arms crossed and his expression neutral.
"Oh, we're taking you on a little trip. A little trip somewhere special, where you'll help us."
"Good luck with that," Coulson replied. Again he gave away nothing with either his expression or mannerisms. "We're not going to help you."
The Watchdog grinned. "You will when you're faced with the alternative. We know you won't let us hurt the lovely ladies we captured along with you. We've got all of them with us. In addition to the two disgusting inhumans, we have your wife," he said looking at Fitz, "and your girlfriend," he said at Coulson. "And the other one, the dykey looking one. We have, oh, all sorts of ideas of what we can do with them. All sorts of fun ideas," he repeated, taking a moment to lick his lips. It was truly a stomach-turning gesture. "We have dozens of men on this ship too, each one who will want a turn. We'll make the five of you watch the whole thing. So yeah, you'll help us when we get to our destination. I have no doubt of that."
During the man's monologue, Deke had looked ready to erupt, but Mack had shot Deke a subtle but clear look. Better to let your enemy ramble on. Let him talk; he might give away important information underneath his loathsome words. And you can't let your enemy know that they got under your skin.
"So we are on a ship then," Coulson stated.
The Watchdog shrugged. "Yeah. You'd find that out soon enough when we reach our destination."
"And what exactly is our destination?"
The Watchdog laughed. "I'm not gonna tell you that. But here," he turned towards one of the others. "We brought you some gifts."
The Watchdog used the airlock's two doors to place two buckets inside the men's cell. One was empty and the other filled with water. The agents had made as if to rush the doors, but the airlock system rendered escape impossible - as it was easy for the Watchdogs to always keep one door secured.
"The water's a little slimy but you'll drink it when you're thirsty enough," said the Watchdog who had done most of the talking. "No food though. Hopefully the scones you got from our friend Marcas will keep you tided over for a while. We don't need your brains just yet, so who cares if you're hungry."
"Your friend?" Fitz echoed. "Is Marcas one of you?" If so, he decided, it was just one more betrayal Fitz had lived through.
"No. But we got a lot of info out of him. People will do almost anything when you threaten their loved ones." He clasped his hands together and grinned again. "Well! That's it for now. Just remember that you will help us with our plans when we need it. We've got nothing against torturing inhumans – and the filthy humans who defend them. And there's something especially fun about….doing all sorts of things with beautiful women. It kind of makes me hope that you don't agree to help us at first."
With that, the three Watchdogs left the area, and the space outside their cell was quiet once again except for persistent hum of the ship's engines.
"I knew the price that innkeeper quoted us to rent the entire place was too low," Coulson muttered.
"Sir," Mack frowned, "a joke at a time like this? Did you hear what he just threatened?"
Coulson's words were steady. "Mack, I'm as angry as you are. But what they are saying are just empty words. If they try to lay a finger on May, she'll kill them. May, Daisy, and all the others are strong and resourceful, and they've beaten back far worse enemies over and over again."
"Except for the fact that these ones have a weapon that knocks us unconscious in seconds!" Fitz exclaimed. "I feel sick." He touched a hand to his forehead, which was damp despite the cold temperature in the cell.
"That's exactly what they want us to feel," Coulson said, stepping towards Fitz and placing a hand on his shoulder. "They said those things to throw us off. We're still going to find a way out of here. We still don't know for sure that they even have Daisy and the others – he could have been bluffing."
"Yeah, but they grabbed us in seconds," Mack said soberly. "They have to have the others."
"Unless they found a way to escape. As soon as Daisy and Yo-Yo regain consciousness, they'll use their powers."
"They must be keeping them unconscious then," Fitz speculated. "Drugged up perhaps – or they just keep using their new weapon on them."
Time passed slowly and uneventfully for the five agents.
Their cell had no visible air vent, and no amount of screaming, pounding on the walls, or other noise seemed to make a difference. If the rest of the team was indeed on board this ship, they didn't give any signs that they could hear them.
The water provided was slimy as promised, but as far as they could tell it was potable, so they drank it.
Despite the distress, the agents' appetites gradually returned. The Watchdogs held to their earlier promise and did not bring any food for their prisoners. Fitz heard and felt his stomach growl, and the sensation was unpleasant - although worries about Jemma occupied his mind far more than hunger. He tried to welcome the rumbling belly as a distraction.
Watchdogs periodically entered the area outside of the cell to hurl insults at the agents. More remarks were made about how friends of inhumans are as bad as inhumans themselves, and how the SHIELD agents were traitors to their species. The remarks were often topped off with a jab at Fitz's attire. The rest of the team had coached Deke right after the Watchdogs' first visit, and Deke no longer took the bait or responded in any way to the taunts.
And always there were the disturbing threats against the women. The threats grew less veiled, not that being subtle was ever a strength of their captors.
"At least their goals are obvious," Coulson said at one point. "They want us to do something and they plan to use the rest of the team as leverage."
"Did you notice that during their first visit," Fitz began, tilting his head, "they said they weren't going to feed us because they didn't need our brains until later? I didn't remember it at first because I was too disturbed by everything else they were saying."
Mack nodded. "I think the guy was looking at you, Fitz, when he said it."
"I saw that too," Coulson said, looking at Fitz. "Maybe they want you to build or make something."
"But what?" Deke asked, confused. "They have a fancy new weapon and they have a starship."
"Something they can't make here," Fitz concluded. "Because they've kept us here for….maybe 24 hours, although who knows how much time we were out? So they're taking us somewhere where they need us – or me – to do something."
The agents continued to speculate, and the Watchdogs periodically visited them to taunt, stare at, and attempt to intimidate them.
Fitz was sitting on the floor of the cell. His rear was sore from the cold, hard ground but his legs needed a rest from standing. He tugged at the hem of his kilt; there was no way to get comfortable inside the cell. Mack, Deke, and Davis were sleeping however, the latter snoring occasionally. Fitz knew that he himself had only slept intermittently.
"How are you holding up?" Coulson asked quietly.
"Okay," Fitz said. "Trying to practice some of the techniques we learned."
Coulson nodded. "You probably had plenty of time to practice them when you were in that black ops prison."
"Yeah," Fitz replied. He squeezed his eyes shut. "That time feels like a bad dream now."
"You got out of there, and we'll get out of here," Coulson insisted.
"Maybe Hunter's on his way in a spaceship he commandeered, right now," Fitz quipped, and both men chuckled.
They were silent for a few moments, and then Fitz took a breath. "There's something different this time though. We've all been held against our will at one time or another, but the Watchdogs are different."
"They're a hate group," Coulson stated.
"Yeah. They hate inhumans, and they hate us because they see us as the next-worst thing. Dealing with them is different than dealing with the enemies we've had before."
Coulson nodded. "Their hate made them stupid, and they used to be easy to beat. But now they have a starship and a new weapon. They've gotten sophisticated, and I'd like to know how."
Fitz turned his head and looked at Coulson. "So now you take their hatred plus their new sophistication, and with everything they've threatened to do…." he let his voice trail off.
"Their threats are just part of a mind game they're playing with us. For all we know they're going to leave us in here longer than they need to, just so they can continue making threats and trying to psyche us out. That's where we have to remember our training." Coulson paused. "Not that I have any doubts about your ability to do so. You've been through a lot, Fitz, and you're one of the strongest people I've ever worked with."
"Thank you, Sir," Fitz said. He wanted to relish the compliment, but worrying about Jemma still had his stomach in knots and waves of dread invaded his lungs with every breath.
TO BE CONTINUED