He woke up with a gasp, cold water soaking his golden hair, dripping down his chin and running down his shoulders and chest as he coughed, startled by the freezing temperature of the icy water.

He breathed heavily, immediately yanking at the ropes that held his hands tightly together. He cried out in pain, pain flaring through his aching shoulder, almost as if someone had reopened an old wound and thrown salt over it. His hand shook due to the pain, making him hesitantly look over, his skin was raw, red and damaged, burnt. But someone had applied some sort of medicine on it.

He pushed himself up, closer to the wall and the end of the chains that had been attached to the stone wall. It was a room, a cell of some kind. He jiggled with the chains, trying to get them to come loose somehow. He gritted his teeth, trying to get the feeling back into his hands and legs. He snapped his head towards the door and pushed his back against the wall when the door opened, making him miss the weight of the rifle on his back.

He was met with two German guards who both had weapons pointed at him, and Will knew for a fact he had never seen these kinds of guns. Between them was an equally tall, but lanky man. A cold shudder ran down his back as he identified him as a doctor.

"Guten Abend, bist du ausgeruht?" the doctor asked, eyes keenly on William.

He didn't answer, thinking it was better to play mute. "Are you well rested?" the doctor asked in perfect English, if Will didn't know better, he would have thought the doctor was American. He blinked, cursing himself as he had accidentally raised his eyebrows in surprise at the fluency of the man's English.

At Williams silence, the doctor nodded and waved one of the guards glaring at Will to step forward. The boys back hit the wall, the back of his head smacking against it as he tried to keep distance between himself and the approaching guard. The man grabbed his wrist tightly, unlocking the chain from the wall, but Will was way too panicked to keep his focus on the man, he was keenly looking the other guard who was standing between the dua and the doctor, pointing a gun towards William.

He was shoved out of the cell, carefully being monitored as he was being led down a hall. The hairs on his hands raised as the air got colder, making his breathing heavier as he realized they were heading deep underground.

He looked at the guard on his left, eyeing him from the corner of his eyes. His eyes ran over his attire and the gun he was gripping with white knuckles. His blue eyes flickered to left, at the other guard, realizing the gun was loose in his hands. The doctor was quiet as he led them through the corridors.
Swiftly, William took a step back, swirling so that he had managed to slip himself between the guard on his left and the wall, all this within a blink of an eye.

His hands went over the guards head, locking the cuffs still attached on his wrist, around the guard's neck. He tightened his hold, the guard choking as he was pulled back slightly, making the guard a human shield for William as he heard a loud bang, ducking his head as the wall behind him became splattered with blood and the guard became limp in his arms. He pushed the dead man off him, towards the second guard.

William then headed towards the doctor who was packing away, eyes wide as William kicked him with his elbow, making the man's head jolt back as Will snatched the pencil out of his boney fingers, whirling around to sink it into the guards left shoulder to prevent him from using the rifle. The guard growled and stepped back, the body who had been dumped on him sliding on the floor as the man's angry eyes snapped up at Will and the pencil stuck in his own shoulder.

The doctor was clutching his bleeding nose, cursing the American soldier to the ends of the earth as his attire became soaked with the crimson liquid. Will, whose adrenaline rush was still on the highest peak, threw himself on the agitated guard with a full force.

Because he be damned if he gave up without a fight.

The guard saw it coming and switched them around, making the younger boy slip and fall on the ground with a small thud, the butt of a gun immediately colliding with his head.

William felt dazed as he allowed his head to lull back, laying flat on his back as stars danced across his vision. He mumbled incoherent words, realizing the room was filled with ten guards, all having the face of the one who was standing over him with furrowed brows and brooding look. They swirled, teeth bared and suddenly there were twenty, other ten being with the face of a doctor who still had a bleeding nose, but eyes wide and filled with curiosity rather than anger.

William was roughly pulled up, the guard's good hand gripping his upper arm so tightly Will could already feel the appearing bruises. However, what made him finche was the sudden pain that shot thought his skull as he was dragged through the white coloured halls. The world was still swirling and he was losing all feeling in his arms, his head lulling left and right as he tried to tell the guard off, but all that left his lips was a muttering that sounded like the one of a drunk man.

He heard the hiss of an opening door, and he was tossed on a chair, his whole body was buzzing yet numb as he tried to fight off the hundreds of hands that made him sit properly, touching up his hands and down his legs for any possible weapons. He felt someone taking his wrist and placing it into a strap of some sort, the leather was thick and cold, yet he could feel that they were slightly cool and smooth against his skin, his thoughts wandered back to those who used to be caged, wondering if that was the place they had been bought.

Suddenly the sharpest smell touched his senses, clearing the misty haze that had been protecting his mind. His eyes snapped open, the pupils shrinking in his ice coloured eyes as he was met with a face of an older man whose nose slightly curled like crows peak and wrinkles ran across his forehead, grey hairs mixing with the brown. Will wanted to shrink back or just disappear from his line of sight, only to realize he could not. He felt his heart rate speed up as he looked down, the leather rubbing at his skin, the blood of the dead soldier dark contrast against his shirt.

"At ease, soldier." the man with crows nose said, his accent heavy as he pulled a stool closer to the strapped down soldier. Williams blue eyes swept through the spacious room, beside the old man next to him, there were two other doctors, both working on the man with a broken nose and the guard who still had a pencil in his shoulder.

No windows.

"I am Doctor Dubois, and you are Will Rogers." the man said, turning to the grey computers that kept humming loudly. There were confusion and anger for a second, but then William realized they must have taken his dog tags. He tried to see if there was the outline of a key under his heart, but coldness pooled in his stomach as he realized there wasn't, they had taken his key.

"Where are my tags." Where the hell is my key? his voice was rough and only then did he realize how dry his throat was, he would have drank buckets of water. The man looked slightly irritated at Will question, but nevertheless stood up and pointed towards a small drawer that was inside a wall.

He felt tired, and his shoulder was burning now. The adrenaline rush was dying out, making the wounds remind themselves to William. He was in pain, he was alone and he knew there was no one coming.

And he was, most likely, going to die, being numbered and surrounded by those who found death amusing and soldiers just mere puppets.

But the tear that threatened to escape down his cheek was forced not to as Will grit his teeth and glared at the ceiling, his muscles coiling underneath his scarred skin.

"You are what we have been looking for." another voice piped in, taking Will's focus away from the oddly smooth, grey ceiling. He didn't answer, almost ready for them to take out their torturing devices to start questioning him. Because that's why soldiers were taken hostage, information was a valuable thing.

"Quiet, I see. bien, notre soldat." The round man went to stand next to Doctor Dubois, waving towards the computer. "We call it surveillance system, and we have been keeping an eye on your journey this is truly magnifique." the man muttered, licking his lips as they both ignored the cry of the broken-nosed doctor in the corner. "You just walked in here, by all of our soldiers, just barged in and freed them. A martyr? Heroic deed indeed." They had been watching him all this time. Analyzing as if he was a mere animal.

"But you have been a little tiny bit greedy, haven't you, Rogers?" the man who had not introduced himself said, rolling open a leather satchel, making Will gulp anxiously. "you have stolen our serum." the man said, looking at him accusingly. Will had no idea what they were talking about, he clenched his fists, refusing to look away from the doctor.

"You are a thief."

And then it clicked, he had not been a thief, it must have been the glass that had been around him when Michael had saved him, whatever was in it, must have made it into his blood system. "I have taken nothing from you." the man with crows nose, the one who was so old he could be considered a grandfather looked at Will lazily. "A thief, a liar and a soldier. Perfect, shall we start the procedure? He is already infected, we can start the project Deathstroke, level two." he stood up and Will started struggling, trying to break free from the bonds keeping him down, "No! Let me go, let me go!" he cursed them, getting more eager as he noticed the leather rip tiny bit, ignoring the reopened wounds that made blood slowly trickle down his arm and drop on the clean floor.

"Gute Nacht" was whispered coldly as he felt an uncomfortable prickle in his neck, trying to pull his head between his shoulders as the cold liquid was forcefully pressed into his system.

The numbness was the first thing that tickled his toes and fingers, making his muscles relax and eyelids grow heavy, his eyes fluttered closed, head lulling to the side as he flinched, a lonely whisper leaving his cracked and dry lips.

"I'm sorry, Steve, I'm so sorry."

***

I'm afraid to write an authors note, so I'll just stay quiet and hope y'all won't kill me.