An overwhelming repetition of voices blended into a horror-esque soundtrack—ominous and foreboding. Past and present stitched together in some macabre quilt that trapped him beneath its weight. The effects of the medicine were waning, but in no way eased his anxiety. His rough restraints dug into the abraded skin of his wrists and ankles. He’d come to the conclusion as he’d awakened to someone in a surgical mask wheeling him down a hallway that he wasn’t going to make it out.

He counted the mesh-encased lights as he’d passed under them. Memorized the hard clunk of elevator doors and the whirr of an engine. He didn’t know if he ascended or went deeper into the bowels of his nightmare.

Was any of it real?

Did he imagine his man was there?

Had Peaches cried over him?

Had his Poe said I love you? The words he’d always longed for a person to tell him but it hadn’t been real. It was the poison they forced into his veins. He jerked his head in a sharp shake as if it would help clear out the residual effects of whatever they’d used to drug him.

Gage had told him he needed to be ready to fight. The attempt to lift his head—his limbs—seemed to take everything he had. His muscles tensed to the point of pain. That was the only thing he’d remembered—the agony. Suffering was the only sensation the injections hadn’t numbed.

A shockingly white room with bright lights caused him to squint.

“Doctor, the subject is ready.” A professional voice bordering on sweet sounded above him.

“Then let us begin.”

Even in his haze, he recognized Carrington’s voice.

How many others had the good doctor done this too? People not as physically strong as him, broken in unimaginable ways and only searching for salvation but only shattering further by the torture. Kids who only wished for a way out submitting to hollow promises.

His mouth was forced open, and something hard and gauze covered slipped between his teeth. He rolled his head to the side and even though it was fruitless, he started to fight at the sight of the machine beside the table.

Carrington started to speak again. Reciting the date and time. He’d been here ten days. He had lost so much time, and in his gut, he knew this was where it ended. No way was he getting out of this room alive.

“Subject two-nine-seven has responded well to the medication. The subject has shown to be receptive to suggestion, but now we move to phase two of treatment.” Carrington announced the voltage.

As he bowed his body up from the gurney, he pulled with what was left of his strength at the tethers which held him down. His body was forced flat onto the gurney, and a strap came across his forehead. Even if the gag in his mouth wasn’t keeping him from yelling and cursing, the thickness of his tongue and dryness of his throat choked him. Forced him into speechlessness, but he grunted. The sounds didn’t convey his anger and, yes, fear of what was to come.

Icy gel was smeared onto his temples, and he held his breath, prepared for what was to come. Paddles pressed to his prepared skin and then it was like static shock times a thousand. His body lengthened and seized as the electricity coursed through him. His screams were muffled. His jaw clenched, and his teeth cut into the hard material between them.

As fast as it hit, the torture ceased, and he collapsed as his breath rushed in a trembling rhythm in and out through his nose. Then the next announcement came, and as prepared as he was, there was nothing he could do. He felt his eyes roll upward so fast that his muscles pulled. His frame pulled to the breaking point as the jolt hit him again.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a crash and a woman yell. All he knew was the pain stopped, and he was thankful his mind could still formulate in a small way what was going on around him. A rough hand came across his face and anger took over.

The gag was removed from his mouth, and he felt it pull at his teeth where they’d sunk into it.

“Little, look at me, man.” Liv’s voice was too loud. “Open those eyes for me.”

His eyelids felt like they were weighed down, but he forced them open as he listened to the shrill sound of Velcro giving.

“Linus, we found him.”

“Come on, Little,” Raul’s voice whispered in his ear.

He was eased up and off the gurney, and his legs gave out under his weight.

“We have ten minutes to get to the exit point. Let’s move.”

He was too weak to make it. They should leave him behind.

“We’re not leaving you behind. Poe is outside waiting for you. You going to leave your man to mourn your oversized ass?” Liv demanded.

Poe was there. His weight was leaned too heavily into Raul, but thankfully the man was able to hold him up. His vision was blurry, and his head seemed to float high above his shoulders. He picked a point and focused on it. He instinctively knew Pure was at his six but the rest of the team were in formation in front of him.

One second they were making their way down a corridor, and the next, he was on the floor. He turned his head as he heard the click of a weapon. To his left, his masked team stood there, teams of two, one knelt and the other standing. Weapons drawn. He forced his attention the other way and could only see through Raul’s legs as the man shielded him.

He was useless. Gage had told him he’d need to fight, but he didn’t have the energy or will to do so.

“You won’t make it out of here.”

Carrington’s arrogance was clear as he stood there with the gun in his hand, but he noticed the slight shake. The man’s confidence wasn’t as strong as it appeared. Two guards had semi-automatic weapons aimed at them with the butts of the stock pushed into their shoulders. He wouldn’t fucking go out without a fight.

He forced his arm upward until he removed Raul’s sidearm from the man’s thigh holster. His thumb flipped the safety off, and he took aim, he closed one eye and picked which version of Carrington to aim at.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Linus’ voice held a dark, dangerous edge. “We have enough evidence to sink you and your torture chamber. Pure?”

“On your command.”

It all happened in that slow-motion cinema effect, Carrington lifted the gun higher.

“Take them.”

A quick, even bursts of gunfire filled the corridor, and the guards’ bodies fell. Carrington still stood and defiantly glared at them. His mind cleared as everything shrunk to a hazy frame around Carrington. Adrenaline made him come back to himself. The doctor raised his arm, prepared to fire. He exhaled as he squeezed the trigger and the scent of gunpowder filled his nose. Carrington’s arms flew out to the sides, and he collapsed. He didn’t feel any guilt at the explosion of crimson in the middle of the man’s forehead.

“Movement at the end of the hall,” Gage announced and they spun as a single unit—the symbiotic relationship of a tight team.

He was suddenly on his feet, and Raul once again carried him. It was organized chaos as they cleared rooms and he felt like dead weight as his legs refused to hold him. His team—his family—wouldn’t leave him behind. He wanted to get out. Needed to see his man again. His world would be back to normal as soon as his man was back in his arms.

It seemed like hours later before he felt the cool night air on his face and they were running into the darkness. Shouts filled the night, and more gunfire filled the once silent night.

The sharp sounds of shots came from somewhere in the distance, one, two, and then a third.”

“Alex, meet at the extraction point,” Linus ordered, and he wondered who Alex was, but he didn’t have much time to contemplate. His left leg dragged, and pain traveled along his right. The adrenaline was waning too quickly.

“Harmon,” Poe’s voice called out to him.

He jerked his gaze around until he spotted his man running toward him and then Poe was on his other side helping Raul. His van came into view, and he found himself stashed inside. Too many bodies filled the cramped space, but it didn’t expand into claustrophobia as Poe placed kisses all over his face. His man’s soft hands moved over him as if searching for wounds.

“Baby, talk to me, are you okay?” Poe frantically whispered against his mouth.

He tried to get his tongue to work, but his body started to float away, and his brain wouldn’t form the words to soothe his man.

“Harmon,” Poe cried his name. “We needed to get to a hospital.”

Those were the last words he heard before everything shut down and he let the darkness take over.

The steady beat of a heart monitor brought him back to the present. Once again, voices blended into an echo of one, but it didn’t possess the fear-inducing atmosphere of the facility. He inherently sensed he was free and he lay there with his eyes closed. He searched his memory, and they started to come back to him slowly. The operation. His team was rescuing him. Poe.

“Kieran, why isn’t he awake yet?” Poe’s sweet voice sounded tired.

“They did a drug test, but without access to Carrington’s files on Harmon’s treatment, we can’t be sure what they’ve injected him with. The doctor said his vitals are fine. Except for needing a few good meals and another bag of fluids, he’s physically fine. Mentally, unless I get to talk to him, I won’t know the extent of the damage done by what was essentially days of torture.”

Then he remembered who Kieran was, Dr. Dahl was the local shrink. New guy in town. No one really knew much about him.

“Here’s my card. When he’s ready to make an appointment just call and set one up. With the number of injection marks, he might not remember much about what happened.”

He flexed his fingers and toes, took stock of himself and while his entire body ached deep down in his bones everything appeared to work.

“But you can’t guarantee that.”

“What he needs right now is a lot of TLC. Make sure he gets plenty of rest. With the information you’ve given me about his past, he’s going to have to process a lot. I’ll be back tomorrow and check in.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Just take care of your man, and when it’s time, I’ll do my part.”

He heard the sound of dress shoes on linoleum and then the soft whoosh of a door opening, then closing. The bed dipped beside his hip, and as the man laid his head on his chest, he absorbed Poe’s warmth.

“Is this real?” His voice broke as he forced his heavy eyelids up.

“Oh, baby, it’s real. You’re finally awake.”

He relished the soft kisses that landed all over his face, then Poe’s mouth rested on his. As he tried to lift his arms to hold his man, they refused to move.

“Relax, you’ve been asleep for days.”

“What happened?”

“Well, what do you remember?”

As he tried to piece everything together, he couldn’t decide what was real or fantasy. Was this one of his happy place hallucinations?

“Not much.”

“Well, you don’t have to remember everything right now. The FBI came in to take over the investigation at Carrington. They rescued several kids. I tracked down Trevor from your contacts and had him come to the hospital to see if he could identify anyone. He knew them all.”

It was too much, and his temples were starting to pound. Exhaustion started to pull him under, but he wasn’t ready to leave Poe. He wanted to go home.

“I want to go home.”

“You will. The doctors just want to make sure they clear whatever Carrington gave you out of your system. Then we’ll go home. I missed you in our bed.”

He loved the sound of that. Even though he’d given Poe his access code and remote, he hadn’t thought his man would want to move in while he was gone.

“You’ve been staying at my place?”

“Where else would I stay? Now, you get some rest. I want my man to be healthy.”

“I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“Harmon, I’m going to worry. I care about you, and it comes with the package.”

“I do love the package.”

“Keep it under your gown until we get home.”

He groaned at Poe’s playful warning. The confidence that he wasn’t back in that clinic drove him to prove his reality was there with Poe. As he fought the oblivion that threatened to drag him back into the darkness, he focused on the touch of Poe’s soft hands and even softer lips. Poe seemed to understand that he needed the tether and loved on him until the abyss pulled him back to the uncertainty of sleep.