thefuzzyguy | If there's trouble, all us freaks have is each other.

Kurt had proved very hard to control for such a little guy. His teleporting could be controlled with stolen MRD technology, modified so as to be a bit less safe and a lot more punishing if he tried to get the collar off. But the mild, frightened kid they'd caught had turned into a determined little terror, and his various infractions had gotten him condemned to increasingly unpleasant confinement. A cell large enough to climb around in let him try to ambush the scientists coming to look at him. A confined space left him at an advantage over anyone without night vision, a prehensile tail, and a wicked kick. In the end, they'd settled on a modified version of the heavy-duty manacles that kept the most dangerous subjects spread-eagled against the wall. He didn't fit perfectly and might have found a way to slip even that, so they'd turned it upside-down. His physiology kept it from being agonizing the way being held that way would have been for a normal human, but it did leave him light-headed and dizzy, and he finally seemed subdued.

What the great minds of Hydra had missed was that Kurt had never intended to hurt anyone. He just wanted to get out. What came after that he didn't know. If he went home they'd find him again. They might hurt his parents. But the one thought he could keep clear under the muting influence of the collar and being held like a giant blue bat all the time was that he needed to get out.

The thick walls and the constant blood pounding in his head made it hard to pick out, but there was suddenly enough noise in the hallway to catch his attention. He groggily lifted his head, squinting toward the bars in the door.

Threaded | Flat

Hydra must be looking to offer pay raises soon. Because if they thought Kurt was difficult to control, this one was going to be twice as bad. They had only just been able to tranquilize the beast enough to where he'd changed back. Now, as the guards and scientists were hurrying the subject (that would be the unconscious skinny man strapped to the stretcher) towards a specially prepared cell, they were taking every precaution.

Bruce was strung up similarily, though right side up, with his arms straight over his head into a specialized steel holder that attached up to the ceiling. His feet in one on the floor. The muffled voices went up a notch when Bruce cracked open an eye but he shut it again without comment.

Captured. One of his least favorite words.

After they've finished securing him and setting up the video feed for security, they quickly leave to analyze the blood samples they've taken from him. Leaving Bruce looking like he's still sleeping standing up due to the shackles. The wall and door to his cell have long windows with steel frames around them. More like something from a high pressure submarine instead of a cell.

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