Chained in the Lab

Ominous Meeting

Zar

Zar capped his pen and read over the report his contractor had asked for through an incredibly irritated Henry. Dr. Taylor hadn't even come to ask him about the incident himself; he'd sent Henry to ask for a written incident report. At least Henry had stayed with him while he wrote it, reliving every moment as ink slid across paper. Zar's friend had refused to leave until the report was finished, and Zar was unspeakably grateful. He didn't think he could have done it if he had to be alone with the memory.

"I'm done," Zar finally whispered.

Henry rested his hand, warm and safe, on Zar's shoulder and took the paper.

"Sorry," Henry whispered.

Zar wanted to ask what the human was apologizing for. He'd been there for Zar when he needed him, what more could Zar possibly ask? But Henry was already leaving the room to deliver the report to Zar's contractor. Who still hadn't come back.

Henry paused at the door.

"Zar. Dr. Taylor. He. Um. He said to say he's sorry."

"For what?"

Henry spread his hands, uncertain. "I think for everything."

Zar nodded.

Everything about covered it.

Zauriel waited alone for a short time. He stared at the fresh spackle over the holes in his wall where the shackles had been anchored. How had he thought that was fun? Letting the humans bind him like a beast in a cage.

He shuddered. If he hadn't been stronger than those men expected. If the manacle had been made of more durable materials.

If, if, if.

There was a knock at the door. Zar answered it grateful for the distraction from his own thoughts. A lab assistant he'd never met stood there. He was a young man, somewhere between twenty and twenty-five if Zar had to guess, probably still a student or just out of university. His lab coat hung loose on his frame and he shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, and his eyes flickered everywhere but Zar's face. He seemed so painfully young that Zar immediately sought to calm him, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder.

The young man flinched away from his touch.

"I, uh. I'm supposed to bring you to the lab," he said in a rush. "Will you come with me or, um."

"Of course," Zar said. "Did Dr. Taylor send you for me?"

The young man shook his head. "No. Dr. Hauge."

"Oh." Zar frowned. He'd heard from Henry about this new scientist, who was now somehow in charge of the project involving Zar. Which was utterly ridiculous. Dr. Taylor was his contractor, no one else.

Unless..

Would Dr. Taylor transfer his contract without even telling him? It was possible. Perhaps the man found his responsibility to Zar was too much of a burden.

Surely the man would tell him face to face if that was true.

Wouldn't he?

Maybe. Maybe this was what Dr. Taylor had asked Henry to apologize for.

"You. Uh. You don't have, like, a collar or something? You just... walk... around the compound?" the young man sounded nervous. What did he think Zauriel was?

"I am here of my own free will," Zar informed him. "I go where I am asked to go. There's no need for restraints."

Some of the humans' stories about his kind were frightening. The boy must have heard more folklore than fact. And he was obviously new, probably the older assistants had been teasing him with stories of Dr. Taylor's 'pet demon.' He'd relax once he saw that Zar was friendly and cooperative. They all did. Probably in a week or two, they'd be laughing about this moment over cards or a shared book or something. Zar would just have to be patient with him until then.

"I thought the collar meant you were, um, safe. That it was against the rules not to have it?" the young man still looked uncertain.

"The collar is traditional, yes, but hardly required." Zar winced. "Just at this moment, I am not comfortable wearing one."

Not after a stranger had used the collar to force him to his knees. Had tangled his fingers in the tight leather and dragged down. Zar could still feel the impact of the floor on his knees, feel the pressure on the back of his neck. If he closed his eyes he would see that disgusting grin and hear the men laugh. So he wasn't going to close his eyes and he was not going to put that collar back on. Well, he couldn't. When he'd told Annabeth what happened she'd cut the collar into tiny pieces and taken them to be incinerated. Annabeth was a good friend.

"Oh. Um. I guess... it's okay, then. I should call Dr. Hauge."

"We can simply speak to him when we reach the lab," Zar suggested gently.

"Yeah. That sounds fine." The lab assistant shuffled in place briefly. "You'll, uh, you'll make sure he knows it's your idea, right? In case he isn't okay with it?"

Ah. New on the job, didn't dare upset a senior member of the staff. Zar could sympathize.

"Of course I will," Zar promised.

He tried a couple of times to start up a conversation with the young man, but every effort was met with stuttering uncertainty and mounting nervousness. Zar finally sighed and walked the rest of the way to the lab in silence. Patience. They all came around eventually.

A stranger in a lab coat waited inside the lab. Zar paused just inside the door to study him. He was tall and solidly built, slightly muscular with just a hint of a paunch. His hair was a light wheat ash color neatly styled away from his face. Zar wondered what it would look like a little tousled. Probably more attractive. The current style was too severe. Probably trying to be professional. Humans put a lot of work into making themselves look the way they wanted people to see them. Which, well, Zar did much the same to appeal to his lovers, so he couldn't judge.

"This is the subject?" the man asked.

"I'm Zauriel, but you can call me Zar. Subject Z on the lab paperwork," Zar introduced himself. "May I presume you are Dr. Hauge?"

"Hm," the man, Dr. Hauge probably, walked around Zar. "You don't look damaged. We can start right away, then."

"Start?" Zar asked.

Dr. Hauge ignored his question and spoke only to the lab assistant. "We'll do a thorough intake examination first, and then I need you to move the subject into its new holding facility."

"Excuse me?" Zar demanded, only to be ignored again.

He did not like this.