Bob Reynolds x Reader || Forget Me Not ||

Part 1 ||Prologue||

"Well," the white-coat-man smiled the fakest smile I had ever seen, his pristine teeth practically glowing in the dimly lit room. He cleared his throat, "my name is Henry Greystone. I work as a head scientist for Oscorps more... secretive projects." He crouched down to better meet our level. "I really wish you hadn't been so... ungrateful, Mr.Wilson."

"Ungrateful?" He nearly laughed, "you wanted to take my daughter away!"

"It's for a good cause."

"Good cause my ass- you people are sick, torturing people for your own gain."

"You both could have been so useful to use," Greystone tutted, "now-"

"Oh, cut the bullshit and get on with it already!" I groaned, "you don't get a fucking speech."

"That's my kid," Wade uttered proudly.

Greystone sighed, seemingly composing himself. A mocking smirk sat on his face as he turned to look at me, "I thought you'd be more of a challenge. How disappointing."

"Fuck you," I spat.

He stood up to his full height, adjusting his glasses and walking to the door. He paused in the doorframe, not even sparing us another glance before saying, "dose him," with absolutely no emotion at all.

"What? Dose him? With what? What are you talking about?" I spat out countless questions as the man holding down my dad pulled out a little syringe. Inside of it was a deep purple liquid.

I screamed relentlessly as it was plunged into the back of his neck. He cursed as the liquid was released into his veins, it looked like it hurt a lot. The man rolled up his sleeve, looking at the watch on his wrist. No more than 30 seconds passed by, he had stopped moving by that point, then another 30 and the man stood up.

I wanted so badly for my dad to get up, for him to stand up and fight, for him to save my life like he had before... but he stayed there, lying on the floor. He wasn't dead though, he was still breathing, still blinking, his eyes still searching mine.

The man pulled out the gun at his hip and pointed it right at my dads head, though his gaze stayed on the watch.

"Please stop! Please, you don't have to do this," I begged, my voice becoming weaker with each shrill cry. He cocked the gun. "Please don't do this! Dad, get up- fucking get up, please! I need you!"

He moved his mouth to say something, but the bullet that entered his skull had other plans. His body went limp. I waited. The pit of anticipation in my stomach was unbearable. The only sounds that could be heard were my staggered breaths and the distant ticking of the clock in our kitchen.

"5 minutes, that's time," the man with the gun announced. "Time of death, 7:47pm."

"What..." I felt like I was going to throw up, "no... no..."

The two guards locked my hands behind my back, hoisted me up to a limp standing position, and began to drag me out of the room.

"No! Let me go!" I screamed with every ounce of my being, "dad, get up! You have to get up! Please..." my body went almost fully limp, finally giving out beneath me, "...you always get up."

The chilly night air gave me a start as the wind slapped against my face. I started fighting again, the burst of adrenaline from the cold giving me strength.

Then the worst possible thing - besides watching my dad die - happened. A blue car pulled up and parked behind the van. A blue care I recognized very well. My boyfriend's car. I had completely forgotten we had planned a little get together tonight.