The sound of Shane panting and me getting punched echoed through the massive room. My head was aching, and I had a hard time focusing on what he said. I think he was trash-talking me again, but honestly, I was pretty done listening to him.

Also, who hits someone they're interrogating in the head? That's just bad form.

He finally stopped, but nobody took me back to my cage. My hands were chained behind my back. I couldn't remember when they had fed me. I was so hungry and felt weak. I kept staring down at the floor, watching my blood drip down on the hard concrete. I heard footsteps, but I was too tired to look up.

Someone tipped my head up, and I looked into a pair of very dark and blue eyes. My stomach turned when I realised they weren't Che's, but Birdie's.

"Drink this." He brought a bottle up to my mouth, but I just let the content spill down my chin. I was not drinking his water again. Last time it had been filled with drugs. Everything they gave me was drugged. "It's just water. You need to drink something."

"Fuck off," I murmured hoarsely.

"Yeah, I will, when you've drunk this." Birdie sighed, annoyed. I spat the water out on the floor and turned my head away. "Have you just given up? You're going to die if you keep refusing to drink."

"Then let me," I whispered and closed my eyes. "Let me die."

Back in my cage, I shifted and lied down. It's easier to keep warm when you're covered in fur. I placed my head on top of my paws and sighed deeply.

I felt safer like this. The animal inside of me was protecting me. I didn't feel so alone when I thought about him. The animal.

I was slowly losing my mind here. My days were all the same. I was woken up when the agents hauled me out of the cage. Then Shane would beat me until I lost consciousness. Back to the cage. If I was lucky, that was it for the day, but sometimes Shane wasn't done with me.

I'm not done with you yet... I could almost feel Che's hands on me. I clenched my eyes shut and tried not to think about him. It was becoming too hard. Too hard to think about him. And Nat for that matter. I couldn't think about them anymore without everything hurting. I just wanted the pain to stop. I just wanted everything to stop now. I was done. I didn't want to keep going anymore. I just wanted everything to be over.

"Take him," someone said in the dark. I wasn't really awake, or was I? Was it a dream?
Someone grabbed me and hauled me out of the cage.

"Shift back, asshole!"

Fuck no.

Someone kicked me in the ribs, and I growled, but it was cut off by someone yanking on the collar around my neck.

"Is it just me, or does he look even smaller, fully shifted?" Fucking Shane. He and his agent friends were laughing.

I looked up at him from my position on the floor and just waited for him to leave. Or do something worse than berate me.

"Let's see what it takes to make him shift back," Shane said and smiled down at me. "If it hurts too much, kitty, just shift back. It'll all stop when you're not that animal."

Someone stepped on my tail, and I made a loud whining sound I couldn't hold back. Something cracked in my tail, and the pain was blinding me. I tried to crawl away, but the agent holding my chain yanked on it again, cutting off my air supply.

I wheezed and lied down again, not resisting. I wasn't resisting.

Shane cracked his knuckles and chuckled. "Well, we know the bitch is a screamer. Was that what did it for your faggot of a boyfriend, Creed? Did he like to hear you scream?"

I ground my claws into the floor, trying hard not to let this get to me, but it was getting harder and harder. It was easy to ignore when I was in htrash-talked but here the animal reigned. Nathan got smaller, and the animal got larger. And the animal did not like to listen to Che being trash talked.

I got another vicious kick, this time on my back thigh. I rolled on my side, panting, looking up at Shane.

"He's a sick fuck, you know that? Not only is he a feral-fucker but fucking a cat too? He's from such a proud family, and he goes after a feral fucking cat."

I shifted without even thinking. "At least he's not torturing a kid," I shot back with a very hoarse voice. "You're a big man. So strong. You need three other six-foot giants to hold down a kid. How proud the FIB must be."

Shane's smile disappeared, and he kicked me hard in the face, my nose almost exploding in a fountain of blood. My vision darkened, but I just laughed through the pain.

"Do you hate fags so much because you are one?" I laughed darkly.

He bent down, grabbed my collar and hauled me up. He slammed his fist in my face repeatedly.

"Carlton!" Someone yelled and grabbed him, making him let go of me. I fell to my knees and looked back up to see an agent holding Shane back. "This isn't constructive! We're not getting anything out of him this way."

"Then let's find another," Shane said darkly and smiled wickedly at me. I just smiled back. Whatever he'd ever do, it wouldn't make me talk.

"Now, kitty," Shane said and flipped a switch on the box, standing on the stool next to me. He took two wires coming out from it and pressed the ends together, small sparks flying from them. "This is going to be fun."

He took a long dagger out of the holster, hanging from his belt and cut my shirt open. I had liked that shirt. Che had picked it out for me.

"Where's Nathalia Creed and Chester Samuel Levy?" Shane asked without any real enthusiasm.

I wasn't going to say anything to that. I was back at not talking. It pissed him more off than mouthing off, and I enjoyed pissing him off. Seeing him become more and more perplex. Helpless. Desperate. It was my favourite fucking pastime.

Time was running out, and Shane was getting desperate. My father could've made it to England now, making them all completely lost to the Americans. They could all be safe. I looked up at him and smiled tiredly.

"The fuck are you smiling for, Creed? There's nothing to smile about here," Shane said coolly and brought the tips of the wires close to my skin. "Do you know what this will do to you?"

I had no idea.

"It will make you piss your pants."

Unlikely. I hadn't had any fluids since... Since when? I couldn't remember. On the other hand, I hadn't been drugged for a while, either. Which was nice.

He put the wires on my skin and taped them down with white tape. They were right under my collarbones.

"Electric shock isn't very nice. All your muscles cramp up, and it hurts. A lot. You'll be immobile for a while, even after I turn off the electricity," Shane explained.

I fixed my eyes on the wall across the room and tried to brace myself for this. He flipped another switch, and it was worse than anticipated.

I couldn't move, while my entire body tensed up, my muscles spasmed. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. My pulse was banging in my ears, and all I could think about was stopping this. I wanted to stop this.

Finally, the effects wore off, and my muscles relaxed. I was fighting hard to catch my breath. I never wanted to experience that ever again.

"Now, how did that feel? Did it inspire you to sing, kitty?"

Calling a cat 'kitty' was pretty fucking racists, but it was definitely not the worst thing I've been called. It was just annoying me. It was really starting to piss me off, actually.

"Your sister, kitty. Where is she?" He leaned forward, not afraid I was going to bite him since they had kept the muzzle on this time.

It was different from the one I had been wearing on the plane from Ireland to Scotland. This one didn't force my mouth almost shut, it just prevented me from biting anyone. Sure, I had limited space to move my mouth, but I could still speak.

I inhaled loudly, snorting really, and planted a big blob of spit in his face. He jerked back and wiped his face, looking very disgusted.

"Let's face it..." one of the previously silent agents said and sighed deeply. That was the guy that had stopped Shane the night before. "This guy isn't breaking."

"So, agent Simon, we should give up?" Shane asked less than impressed.

I turned my head and looked at the agent. He was a cat, but not a shifter. Golden hair and skin. He had to be Moira's brother. He was definitely related to her.

I had clicked when I killed her. Something inside of me turned off, and I stopped feeling. Like the off-switch Birdie was talking about.

"I think we need to move on. We've been at this for a month. It's a waste of time. The kid is not showing any signs of breaking, and this is turning into something completely sinister and disgusting. Even by our standards."

"Do you feel bad for him? He's a feral piece of shit!"

"Is he? I've read Sentry Levy's notes on his progression. He doesn't show any types of feral behaviour. When he's angry, he has a reason. He doesn't just go off. Open your eyes, man. This isn't right." He folded his arms over his chest. He was a bit smaller than Birdie but not less intimidating. "You're torturing a kid. How do you even sleep at night?"

"I am serving my country, Dean. And proudly! What are you doing?"

"I'm saying, this has gone too far. When did he eat? When did he get some water? Look at him! He's barely alive anymore. We're not going to get anything out of him if he's dead! And I don't think our S.O. is going to be happy if we killed off American property."

Shane looked back at Birdie.

"I agree with him," he said and nodded towards Dean. "He's not going to break because of torture. Not to mention, he feels a deeper sense of loyalty to the people he cares about. Probably deeper than any of us. He's not going to talk unless he wants to."

"Then, make him want to talk!" Shane growled, frustrated. Birdie casually walked over and removed the wires from my chest, ignoring Shane completely. I kept staring up at him. I don't know what I was trying to say. Maybe 'help me'?

I was so done. I was ready to die if this continued. I knew I wasn't ever going to break, and I wanted to. I wanted to just give in, to make them stop. But I couldn't. I couldn't give up the people I loved.

Birdie unlocked the chain to my collar and helped me up from the chair. My legs were so weak, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to walk.

"It's okay, Nathan," Birdie whispered and together we walked into an entirely new room. It was a lot nicer. Had yellow painted walls and a window. There was actual daylight here. I wanted to cry. I hadn't seen daylight in so long.

Agent Simon followed us in and closed the door behind us. "I'll get him some clean clothes."

"Do that. I'll clean him up a bit," Birdie said.

Neither of them looked at me. My hands were still chained on my back, and Birdie had wrapped the chain to the collar around his big hand. He carefully helped me into a bathroom and sat me down on the closed toilet, removed the muzzle and quickly went over the damages in my face.

He left me there but quickly returned with a little box. He turned on the water and wet a towel under it, before running it over my face. It was so soothing and cool against my skin. I closed my eyes and let him wipe away the dried and the new blood. I felt filthy. I hadn't been able to wash myself for the entire time I had been here.

"Can you stand for a shower?"

I nodded. Birdie unlocked one handcuff, and I took off the torn shirt. Birdie wasn't going to leave the room for this.

I swallowed my almost newfound modesty and took the rest of my clothes off. I walked under the warm stream of water and let it heat me up, turning my back on Birdie. I had been cold for so long, I had forgotten what warmth felt like.

For a long while, I just stood in the shower and let the water run down my neck and back. When I felt like a raisin, I stepped out. I took the towel from Birdie and dried myself off. While I had been in the shower, Dean must've found me something to wear, because Birdie handed me fresh clothes. I got dressed and sat back down on the closed toilet.

The clothes were way too big for me. The t-shirt kind of more resembled a dress while the sweats had to be tied tightly around my hips and then rolled up at the bottom. But it was so nice to be clean and wear clean clothes. I'd never not appreciate being clean again.

"You need stitches," he said softly, and I nodded instead of answering.

He slowly stitched me up, put some ointment on the scourged patches of skin where the wires had been connected and put plasters on the sores.

"Nathan..." he said when he finished and finally met my eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't," I muttered.

"No... Dean is right. You're not feral..."

"Okay," I just replied and looked down.

"Are you hungry? Dean is cooking something up for you now."

"Let me die..." I whispered. "Please, just let me die."

I was so tired. All I had wanted was to be free, and I never would. I would be here forever, and they would keep torturing me, and I couldn't do it anymore. I was so tired...

"Jesus Christ..." Dean muttered from the door. "Get him up. I made some fish for him."
Birdie chained me up again and sat me down at a table. I couldn't handle this. Everything was so human, and I couldn't deal with it. I had shifted every time I was back in the cage for days now. I was only human when they beat me up, and now I had to sit here and eat like a person.

I was just staring at the wall as Dean put the plate of food down in front of me. Birdie and Dean shared a concerned look when I looked down at the food but didn't touch it.

If I didn't eat or drink, I would die. If I died, there would be no more pain. No more fighting.

I was not eating their food. I was done. I pushed the plate away and leaned back in the chair.

"Eat something, Nathan," Birdie said softly.

"No," I replied coolly and folded my arms over my chest.

Both Dean and Birdie shared a look and let me sit at the table for another twenty minutes, probably hoping I'd crack under the pressure, but they didn't know to what extent I could push my patience and self-discipline to.

"What now?" Dean asked after a while when they had finally given up. "The cage, or...?"

"He's not an animal," Birdie snapped. "Come on, Nathan."

I rose to my feet and followed him into another room. One with a mattress on the floor. I looked back at him.

"I just want to go back to the cage," I said quietly.

"Well, this is your cage now. So lie down and try to get some sleep, okay?" He fastened the chain to the radiator hanging on the wall and left the room.

I sat down on the mattress and slowly ran my hand over the sheet. It smelled like Birdie. He had just given me his sleeping place, and I didn't understand why. I had left four white scars on his cheek, but he kept treating me like... A person and I didn't understand why!

I was done being human for now. I shifted and lied down on the mattress. It was a lot more comfy than the cage, that was for sure. And the radiator was on, so the room was actually warm. This was nice.