Chapter Thirty-Nine:
"Seeing as you are suspected of being a mutant, we are required, by law, to have you tested," the doctor began, stepping close to the bed. Tyron crossed his arms, glaring at them. "Do you understand this?"
"No I don'," Tyron replied. "Repeat tha' for me." Tyron examined the four people surrounding him. Male doctor and police officer and two male nurses. He swallowed, trying to contain his fear.
The doctor gritted his teeth, but tried again. "We are required by the recent law, to have to tested and registered as a Subhuman."
"Hmm..." Tyron shook his head, "Still don' understand." The police officer wasn't angry. He put a hand on his gun and Tyron's eyes narrowed. He could take some bullets any other time, but when was in this condition? Tyron wouldn't want to push it.
"Put the straps back on him," The officer ordered, coming to his side and grabbing his shoulders.
The nurses acted quickly, going to the sides and grabbing his arms. Tyron began to panic, "No! Get off me! Get off!" He screamed, his heart rising and he tried to push the man off of him, kicking his legs and thrashing.
"Get his feet too," the doctor ordered while the nurses were tightening it. Tyron screamed, tears filling his eyes again. No! No! No! No!
"Let m'go! No! Let m'go! No! No! Let m'go!" Tyron screamed trying to twist away from him. When the nurses finally finished, Tyron could hardly move his body. His heart was beating so hard, Tyron thought it would grow wings and fly away.
"Now, can you take a sample of his hair, please," the doctor said, looking down at his clipboard.
"Please! Let m'go! Please! Please!" Tyron screamed, terror in his voice. There were three men in here, and one woman. If something happened, he couldn't move. He would be stuck here, as they did whatever they wanted to him. They'd cut off his clothes and feel his body. They'd stick it down his throat and make him-
"Please someone shut him up," someone muttered. Tyron shook his head violently, as a man came over and began to wrap what looked like something between a muzzle and a gag around his neck. Tyron screamed, moving his head from side to side, hoping the man would stop.
He held his head straight and forced it on him.
Tyron couldn't breathe, his eyes rolled aimlessly as they talked above him, pulling at his hair and clipping his nails and catching his tears in jars. They swabbed his snot and tested his fingerprints.
His stared at the ceiling, still shaking and unable to breathe. He saw darkness close in around him as his eyes fluttered closed.
Then, something hit him. "Can't go to sleep yet, boy," the officer snapped. Tyron shook his head, blinking away more tears.
Baron stood above him, using his legs to keep him spread apart as he forced himself into him again and again. Tyron could move. He couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. This can't-he can't. He can't be back. He can't! He-
BAD PET BAD PET BAD PET BAD PET BA-
Tyron began to convulse and the nurses stepped in, saying something he couldn't understand. Vomit sprayed past his lips and his body felt lighter than air. Someone took the gag off him, but it was no use.
Tyron screamed loud and high. Then, he vomited again, but it only made him choke. Someone pushed his head to the side and it dripped out of his mouth. Tyron coughed loudly, but someone forced him back straight, taking a sample of the vomit and saying something.
Everything in Tyron felt blank. He couldn't move. He couldn't feel. He laid limp like the dead on the hospital bed, slightly shivering. He heard someone enter the room and starting to shout, but he couldn't understand any of it. He was so tired. He was tired of it all. He couldn't do this anymore.
He felt someone lift him up - were the straps gone? Where were they taking him? He was a bad pet. Baron was going to punish him now. He was taking him to a car with two other people. If he didn't do good, he'd be shot later.
Someone set him down and shook his shoulders, Tyron didn't move. If he moved, Baron would beat him. He couldn't get hurt anymore. He didn't - he couldn't - he wasn't a bad pet. He wasn't a bad pet.
Someone said his name, and Tyron slowly looked over. Baron was going to hurt him if be didn't get to work. He had to work. He was going to die if he didn't.
Tyron began to take off his clothes, but someone held his hands. Tyron began to panic. He had to. He had to! Baron was going to beat him if he didn't work! No! No! No!
Someone pulled him tight and Tyron was shaking. He couldn't be a bad pet!
He began to cry, he couldn't do this! He couldn't take any more punishments! He kept trying to take them off. If he didn't make enough money, Baron would kill him! They stopped him again, angry this time. Tyron moved away, scared. No more. No more. No-
"-Tower?" Someone suggested.
"In... Shock," Someone else said.
"-Sleep-"
"-Needles!"
"-Terrified!"
"Yelling-"
"PTSD-Trigger-"
Tyron kept trying to pull off his clothes, but someone was holding his hands away from him. Tyron jumped, trying to pull away, then froze. He was going to get hit for that. He had to make up for it. He didn't-
"Calm-"
"What do we-"
"Quiet!"
Tyron held his breath, too scared to move. This many people, they would kill him if he did something wrong. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't-He couldn't-
"-Hungry?"
Tyron shook his head, holding back a sob. No eating! No metal! If Baron found out he ate, he'd cut out his tongue! No! No! No!
"-Sleep-Tired-"
Tyron inhaled, no no, stay awake. Sleeping while he was being rented was bad pet bad pet bad-
"Breathe-Slow-"
Bad pet bad pet bad pet bad pet-
"C'mon kid-Scaring me-Breathe-"
Bad bad pet bad pet bad bad pe-
"Trauma-"
"-Know!"
"-Sleep!"
Tyron tried to breathe, he had to breathe. He couldn't... He had to... He...
Tyron swayed, his head spinning. He fell forward, gasping and shaking. Breathe, he, breathe, can't-
Someone laid a hand on his shoulder. Tyron screamed, curling up, moving away. Escape. Run. No. Baron. Pet. Touching. No. No!
"-Messed up!"
"-Touch-Scream-"
Tyron wanted to vomit again. He couldn't. He would get in trouble.
"Swallow it!" Baron hissed, "Swallow it all!"
"Water-"
"He can't-"
"-Shock-enough-"
Tyron shook as the car sped and finally came to a stop. They the car and someone opened his door.
They tried to pick him up gently, but Tyron screamed. No! No! No! Please! No more! He was too tired! He couldn't do it anymore! No! No!
"-Okay-It's-"
"Hurry!"
They grabbed him and ran. Then, Tyron was in the air for a minute before being consumed by water.
Tyron flailed his arms and legs kicking desperately to get to the surface. He couldn't swim! He couldn't swim!
Someone grabbed his hands and pulled him out. Tyron coughed and vomited out disgusting, polluted sea water. "Tyron?" Someone said hesitantly.
"Wha'-?" He coughed, cutting himself off. "Where am I?"
Suddenly, someone was hugging him tight, and soon everyone else followed. "You were in shock. But, we couldn't touch you to help you and you weren't listening," Tony explained quickly. "You kept trying to strip and then you weren't breathing and then you were screaming-"
"M'cold," he muttered, shivering.
"We threw you in the Hudson," Natasha explained.
Tyron just nodded, trying to get up, but his head was pounding and he didn't want to move. "M'tired," he mumbled.
"We're going home," Tony assured. Tyron nodded and the others helped him back in the car, closing the door. They handed him blankets and a few towels, and Tyron wrapped himself in them.
He stayed quiet the entire way back to the tower.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron sat on his bed, thinking about Baron and the memories he exposed. He remembered all of his memories with Baron. It made him sick to even think about them.
Someone was knocking. "Come in," He called. The door opened. It was Tony. "'Ey," he greeted, looking back up at the ceiling. Tony sat down on the edge of his bed.
"I scheduled your first appointment," Tony said finally. Tyron nodded, he knew this was coming. "Tomorrow afternoon. It's kind of a diagnostic thing, okay? Nothing too deep, too serious yet. And, if you ever feel uncomfortable, I'll pull you out, okay?"
"Got it," Tyron muttered, not taking his eyes off the ceiling. Tony sighed and fell back on his bed.
"You really did scare us," Tony said gently.
"I know," he murmured. He remembered his screams as they tightened the strapped to the hospital bed. The cold sweat trickling down his face, his tears that burned his eyes.
He closed his eyes and breathed. "You know, even after this, you can still talk to us," Tony told him and Tyron swallowed hard.
How in the world would be tell Tony how it felt to be tied to a bed or to a hook in the ceiling? How could he tell him how it felt being completely naked and at the mercy of sometimes a group of five to ten horny men looking for a little fun? How could he tell Tony how it felt to actually feel like he wasn't human, like they described people like him on the news and on TV? How could he tell him that for nearly two years, he had no more value, of less than a cow who gave sweeter milk?
Tyron swallowed, "Ya wouldn't understand," he murmured. Nobody would. "Trust me."