The Labyrinth

Chapter 9: Testing? Testing? Is This Meta On?

Dick weakly fought back, his hands came up but went down again, his wings twitching in response to the thought 'fight back'. His attempts were in vain, his eye tried to close, nausea settling in his throat and threatening to come back up. The colors he could see were heightened, the ceiling was too bright and all sorts of weird colors.

He felt light headed and his face was lightly slapped a few times to get his attention. His eyes made its way down, staring at the scientist but barely comprehending.

A light drifted across his vision, making him keen again and weakly try to pull away. He fell backwards this time, but while his back hit the table his wings and shoulders met air. The world went dark and he relished it bliss until he met the ground, unsure of when he actually fell.

He groaned as pain throbbed everywhere, his head, his wings, his legs, even his butt felt in pain. But it was all nothing compared to the pain in his gut, he curled inward, holding his stomach and gasping quietly for breath.

His jaw tingled once more and that's all the warning he got before his breath was taken from him as his stomach seemed to want to exit out of his mouth. He jerked forwards, mouth open, dry heaving.

He didn't really know what happened next, he knew he stopped dry heaving and something cold was on his head. But then there were hands, hands everywhere, grabbing his feet and arms and wings. There were hands on his stomach, on his back, on his wounded thighs and even on his neck.

It was all so wrong, he just wanted everything to go away, to stop touching him, to stop the movement and pain in his gut. "L-le' go..." his voice sounded foreign even to his own ears, but he didn't care much, he just needed them to stop.

He fought weakly, not even able to tug his wrists free. "Pl-es... please l-le-let go." He begged, tears pricking at his eyes. He was lifted up, maybe, he felt air beneath his feathers and some instinct ignited in his bones. "Let me go! Please!" He yelled as his back muscles worked in tandem, pulling his lightweight bones up and the mounds of feathers attached. Then he pushed down, hitting something, but then continued down. "Please... please let go! Let GO!" He was jerked up by this movement, some of the hands loosening or even breaking off. "LET ME GO!!"

"Fine fine fine, Harley get Wilson back in here, I have an emergency. And for the sakes of all that is good, shut him up!"

The ten year old grit his teeth and did it again, grunting in effort before screaming. His wings pounded once, twice, before all the hands disappeared and Dick was launched backwards.

He hit the ground and slid, wing fluttering as if trying to correct themselves. Dick was crying, he curled up and placed his hands over his eyes. He couldn't stop shaking, everything was hurting and tense, and Dick saw no end in sight. All he wanted was for the hands to leave him alone! Stay away!

The dreaded hands came back, only two this time, one on a wing and another on his side.

Dick screamed in utter terror and twisted away from the unwanted touch, latching his wing close to protect his vulnerable side.

"Kid, calm down!"

The boy sobbed, sucking in lungfuls of air and his chest felt tight. He was definitely shaking, his entire body was twitching.

"Kid don't make me tanq you."

Through whatever haze was over his mind Dick recognized the man's voice, it was the Wilson man. Should he call him Wilson in his head? Technically it was his last name, so he would be Mr. Wilson. He wasn't a doctor was he? Oh man Dick hoped he wasn't a doctor. He couldn't take anymore touching.