So, I was bored and someone gave me a prompt of "Experiment" and "Power transferal" and this is what my mind came up with. Hope you enjoy this. It's not a full one shot, I don't think, but it's too big to be a drabble. Anyways, I figured I'd share it :)
Whatever it was the man had used to knock him out was still present enough in Spencer's system that it was hard to gather his thoughts. He knew he should be protesting this all more than he was. He should be plotting and planning and finding a way to talk his way out of this. That was his job. He was a profiler! But he couldn't seem to gather himself enough to manage to do it. His usually high powered brain was running slower than ever and it was a terrifying feeling. Weakly he thrashed in his bonds, an almost silent protest to what was going on. The doctor just patted his arm and shushed him. "Just a moment, Dr. Reid. Just a moment. Everything is going to be all right. I think I have it this time." The man held up a needle and vial, drawing a clear liquid up into the syringe. Seeing it had Spencer thrashing even more. He had no idea what was in that needle but he knew he didn't want it in him. Almost silently he heard a faint whisper of Tobias in his mind "It helps". No!
The doctor ignored Spencer's protests and started to clean a spot in the crook of his arm. He clicked his tongue a few times at the sight of the barely visible scars already there. "Well, now, it looks like this should be no stranger to you, Dr. Reid. Just a quick prick, that's all. Then we shall see. I have faith it'll work this time. You are going to be my greatest creation, Doctor. You should be proud!" The man praised. Despite Spencer's best efforts, which really weren't that great at all, the needle still punctured his skin. He felt the quick prick and could only watch as his body was injected with whatever was in that vial. Then the needle was gone and a cotton ball was being held there. "Rest, Dr. Reid. Rest. You'll need your strength soon enough."
Was there anything else he could do? The drugs already in his system pulled Spencer back down into the dark. There he drifted in and out, his mind instinctively trying to push past the heavy cloud. A slight tingling was building in his limbs, just faintly tickling at his nerves. It was enough to annoy him and keep him from completely resting. Then the tingling grew. No longer just an annoyance; it was starting to hurt. He shifted slightly to try to chase it away and found that, instead, it was spreading. A pained sound slipped past his lips. His whole body was tingling now. Aching. He tried to say something, to who he didn't know. But the tingling grew more intensive and the only sound that came past his lips was a low groan.
Suddenly the tingling seemed to explode inside of him. Spencer's eyes snapped open and his body bowed, head thrown back as the pain ripped its way across every inch of his body. Every nerve, every cell, felt like it was being electrocuted. The first of many screams ripped its way violently past his lips.
Over in the cells, Remy pulled Jubilee closer, cradling her head against him. He let her bury her face against his neck and he tried to cover her open ear with his hand in an effort to help block out at least some of the sound. Yet there was no way to fully block out the blood curdling screams that echoed back to them from the lab. There was such pain in that sound, it seemed to rip straight down to the soul. The other mutants were huddled in pairs as well, each seeking comfort against the sounds that had become far too familiar over the past week. How many people had they heard scream? How many bodies had they seen dragged past their cells when the experiments proved too much for them?
The two humans in the cell across from them were quivering on either side, deliberately avoiding each other. The man was stone faced, his body tight. Remy could've told him that toughness would get him nowhere here. It wouldn't matter. The doctor didn't care about them as people, per se. Only as experiments. The humans he brought in were nothing more than lab rats. The mutants, only donors. He had no care for them as people. In contrast to the stone faced man, the woman was curled up in a ball, her whole body trembling. Each time a new scream started, she would flinch as if struck.
Moisture hit his skin and Remy tightened his grip protectively. The young woman in his arms cried her silent tears, the only outward sign to the grief he knew she felt. The Cajun buried his face against her hair while another scream cut the air like a knife. As he had so many times this past week, he prayed for help to come. Prayed for rescue. Because he didn't know how long any of them could survive this and still manage to stay sane.
It took an hour before the screaming finally abruptly stopped—the longest anyone had ever survived so far. There was no telling why the screaming stopped; no telling how the person was. It could've been that the person's body simply had no strength left to it to muster up a scream. Or it could've been the alternative. That had Remy grimacing. None had survived the experiments so far. Head bowed, Remy murmured a soft prayer for the person's soul.
When the door opened at the end of the hall, instinct had Remy curling his body, trying to shelter Jubilee behind him instead of against him. His sharp eyes locked on the hall beyond the bars. He fully expected to see the doctor trudge past with yet another limp body to dispose of. It surprised him completely when the doctor appeared with a body, yet he didn't go to the other end of the hall. He opened up the empty cell and rolled the gurney in, transferring the man from the gurney to the bed. Shock seemed to fill the cells. The eight mutants that had witnessed so much death were transfixed by the scene playing out. They stared as the doctor completed the transfer and then took the gurney out, shutting and locking the door behind him. Then he went back to the lab.
Eyes turned away from the cell to exchange shocked glances back and forth. Silent, the same questions passed between them all. Had he succeeded? Had he really succeeded in what he was doing? The prospect was enough to have them all giving a little shiver.