a/n : It occurs to me maybe I should have warned y'all that the experiments might be a little disturbing. Sorry I didn't do so before. This chapter includes (unwilling) drug use.

Phase Three

TK didn't bother fighting back the next time they came for him. He was too sore, shaky, and tired. He was also too distracted, worrying about Carlos worrying about him.

Another new room. Odd, he thought, that they didn't just take him back to the same "staging area" over and over. Disorientation was the goal.

Hood off. Usual lecture. He almost recited it to Scream before Scream could say it, but he knew it would only piss the guy off. But his anger bubbled up, and he couldn't stop himself talking back.

"She gets it, okay? She knows it's real. I know it's real. Just get it over with."

Scream looked at Freddy and Grinch and said, "You heard him, boys. Let's get on with it."

As if they both felt similarly weary, Mia sat quietly at the latest table between them, this one covered in a black cloth. When Scream carefully lifted it away, TK leapt from his seat as if it revealed rattlesnakes. Grinch and Freddy quickly captured him and forced him back down.

Hypodermics. At least a dozen, maybe more. All filled with fluid of some kind.

"No," TK choked. "No. I'm a recovering addict," he said, unable to stop himself. "No. Please don't do this."

Mia broke at his words. Words he hadn't meant to blurt out but did. Scream, the bastard, put a so-called comforting hand on her shoulder and said, "You don't have to. But…"

TK made a wordless sound of dismay as Scream looked him in the eyes. "What was your poison?" When he didn't answer, Scream placed his mouth close to TK's ear. "Tell me...or Mia becomes the receiver."

Fighting back a sob, TK croaked, "Opioids."

"Well. You're in luck," Scream said. "No opioids here. Fifteen needles. Five completely harmless, filled with saline like you'd get in a hospital IV. The other ten, well, not gonna lie. Some of them have other stuff. Not going to spoil the surprise, but no opioids."

Like that helps.

When neither TK nor Mia moved or spoke for a long time, Scream leaned forward and whispered something in her ear.

"Can't he choose the needle? I'll do the injection, but can't he choose? I can't. I can't choose," she begged. TK thought about her earlier comment about picking bad levers. About being unlucky.

"That's not the experiment, Mia," Scream answered.

"Please, I can't," she begged again.

"Mia...I really don't want to have to pick one of these for you, to risk that little baby of yours."

With a trembling hand, she plucked a needle from the tabletop. Tears flowing quickly down her face, she came around to his side. "I... I don't know how to do this," she sniffled.

"Take the cap off," TK said dully. "Flick the needle to knock out any air bubbles, then push the plunger a little so a little liquid comes out, but not much of it. Then pinch my bicep, jab the needle into the muscle, and push the plunger."

She followed his directions, crying the whole time, and he closed his eyes as he felt the needle slide home. He didn't trust them. He felt defeated, like he might be back to square one with his sobriety all over again. Like he'd been with that witch, Sadie.

oOo

Hood. Walk. Back to the clock room. TK thought about how it could still be night, or it could be the next day. Sunrise. Noon. He had no idea. All the windows to the outside were covered in black paper, layers and layers of it. Not a hint of sky. No clocks other than the countdown clock in their little waiting room.

And then there was Mia, weeping, asking every few minutes whether he was okay.

He thought maybe he was, that maybe he got lucky, and it was just saline. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but that wasn't new. He'd been a bit blurry since getting clocked in the head. And a little blurrier since the shocks. The heaviness in his limbs, there'd been some of that after the shocks, too, but it had begun to fade. It was back now. So... maybe not saline.

She apologized again. And again.

"Mia," he said wearily, "Stop apologizing. None of this is your fault. We're pawns in their game. Thas all." Okay. Slurring, now. He all but felt his mind slowing, like a train pulling into a station, easing to a halt.

Barbara and Harvey returned. Neither showing any symptoms. Yet.

Dan and Jenae returned shortly after them. The only thing TK noticed was that Dan seemed less jittery. Maybe some kind of depressant?

He laid his head on the table. Could fall asleep right there. But what if he did? What if he passed out?

Mia might then become the default recipient. He lifted his head from the table. He tried not to notice how much effort it took.

When their captors came for them again after what felt like hours but could be minutes, TK's legs kept faltering, wanting to fold up underneath him. He was clumsy. Uncoordinated. As if from outside himself, he heard the others protesting.

"You can't do anything else to him! He's barely conscious!"

"What was in that needle? What?!"

"You're going to kill him! You have to stop this!"

But they didn't. When he couldn't seem to put one foot in front of the other, they carried him. As they did, as he floated somewhere in space and time, his fuzzy, cloudy thoughts turned to the one solid shape he could find to hold on to. He directed the words in his heart toward that shape...and those feelings were clear, not fuzzy in the least.

Baby, I'm sorry. I don't know how much more I can take. I didn't want what was in that needle. I didn't! I hope you believe that if you find me, and I can't tell you. If they put us back where they found us like they say they will, and if you find me there...please understand I didn't do this to myself. I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I forgot my shirt. I'm sorry I spent so much money on a stupid blue shirt that's all ruined now. I'm sorry that I missed dinner.

I'm sorry.

oOo

Carlos was surprised to find several patrol cars already parked outside the defunct Marckal Medical's building. He then recognized the man turning back from the lobby doors. Detective Borregos recognized him, too, and strode his way.

"Locked," he said. "Open hours 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. We've got guys trying to go in through the garage right now."

It was just after eleven. TK had been missing for approximately two and a half hours already.

As Owen and Judd came up behind him, the detective shook his head. "All of you need to wait out here. You shouldn't even be here."

Carlos wasn't good at waiting, and he knew Judd and Owen weren't great at it, either. Feeling helpless, he called Marjan to see if they were having any luck at the warehouse.

"No. Security spotted us right away. We're stuck outside the gate while they take a look at the old Marckal warehouse, themselves."

"Call me if anything changes," he sighed in frustration.

Judd's phone rang as Carlos began pacing like a caged lion. "Hey, Gracie. No, nothing yet." Carlos glanced at Judd and saw him scrubbing the side of his head with his free hand. "Yeah. No, we're leashed up outside like a bunch of hound dogs in heat, you know?" Carlos shook his head hearing that but didn't disagree with the colorful euphemism. "What, now?" Judd pressed his free hand to the ear not listening to the phone. "Gracie, hang on. There's static." Judd began pacing, trying to find a good signal. "Yep, I can hear you now. What was that? Another building? Where?" Judd blew out a breath. "You kidding me? That's up around the Leffler Commercial complex, ain't it? Alright, then. We'll check it out." When Judd hung up, he shook his head. "Looks like we got another property to check. Gracie was poking around some more and that Marckal group also had a place called Elvarro Medical Supply, but they used a variation of the Marckal logo. There's another empty building up around the Leffler complex in North Austin."

Carlos nodded. "Shoot me the address. Let's go check it out."

He climbed back into the car with Owen, but when his father-in-law turned the key, nothing happened. Carlos leapt from the passenger seat and flagged down Judd, who was just pulling away from the curb.

"Hop in," Judd said. "We'll deal with it later."

Ignoring the shotgun seat, Owen slid into the rear seat of the double cab beside Carlos and asked, "Are you calling the detective to see if he knows about this lead?"

Carlos shrugged. "I will when we get there."

Owen smirked. "Good idea."