Gala1981 asked: May I request day 25 of febuwhump for Scott please? Thank you so much in advance❤❤❤. DAY 25: waterboarding
Characters: Scott, OC's
Warnings: Description of torture - waterboarding
There was a sink. A hose. A bucket.
And a table.
Despite his efforts it took the five of them no time at all to have him up on the tabletop and tied down securely to each corner. Scott pulled but there was no give at all in any of the restraints.
The officer leaned over him.
'Now, Captain. Tell me about your base of operations.'
Scott stared at him; teeth clamped shut.
The officer smiled in delight.
Scott clenched his teeth as hard as possible, trying hard to keep his mouth shut and moving his face from side to side as much as possible. But it didn't take long for one of the men to grab his cheeks and squeeze hard. Scott could cope with that though – he was the eldest of five brothers and one sister and he knew how to keep his mouth shut when the sour sweets were handed out.
Which also meant he knew that once the other thug had grabbed his nose and pinched it tight he had no chance. Still, he held his breath for as long as possible (which was a considerable time but not as long as Gordon could) before gasping.
Immediately a rag was shoved in, along with fingers that pushed it down until Scott was gagging.
'I'll ask you one more time before we begin. Tell me about your base of operations. How many planes do you have?'
Scott watched the man in charge walk around the table completely before stopping beside his head and bending over to breathe on him. His breath smelt of garlic and sausage and beer. It caused Scott to gag almost as much as the rag had.
The man ran clammy fingers down his cheek and breathed in his ear.
'Tell me about the special mission you were on when you were shot down.'
Scott stared at him, eyes wide. It wasn't like he could say anything if he wanted to, but he wouldn't say anything. Couldn't. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared. The man walked back to the end of the table and nodded, folding his arms across his chest.
'So be it, Captain.'
He gestured at the two men.
The tap squeaked as the handle was turned. Scott could hear the water running up the pipes before it run into the sink and then was stopped by the hose being jammed onto it. A few seconds later water ran into the bucket. He listened to it as it filled up. The tap was turned off. Water ran down the plughole.
One of the men carried the bucket over and placed it beside Scott's head. He could feel the cold emanating from it. From the corner of his eye he could see drips running down the outside, but Scott resolutely kept his head to the front.
And then he had no choice as one man clamped his hands on either side of Scott's face and ears and held him still while the other laid a cloth over his face and water was poured over the cloth and over his face.
Water ran down his nose and the back of his throat, soon joined by water from the wet rag in his mouth. Scott choked. And writhed, straining against his bonds as the men laughed and laughed.
But the man in charge just watched.
Eventually the bucket was empty and the rag was pulled from his mouth and his face released. For several seconds that felt like hours all Scott could do was cough and vomit water and bile. Something in his left arm pulled with the effort but eventually he was done.
The man came back around and once more put his mouth to Scott's ear.
'Now, Captain Tracy. One more try. Where is the file your Special Forces stole and passed on to your flight?'
'Tracy, Scott. Captain. 559016.'
'Who was in charge of your mission?'
'Tracy, Scott. Captain. 559016.'
'Where is the file?'
'Tracy, Scott. Captain. 559016.'
'Have it your way.'
The man sighed and gestured at the sink.
'Again.'
And Scott steeled himself.