Cones of light showed the way down the dark tunnel as the low grumble of the car echoed hollowly off the walls, though more of an extension of the sound than anything else. The passengers inside were scantly lit and cast largely in shadows, their forms reduced to near silhouettes and Damian's own hands were difficult to see. It was a cold sort of darkness, the kind that made you long for home and bed, to wrap yourself in blankets of warmth and security, and Damian shivered. The ground opening up had surprised him and being hidden underground worried him. How was his father going to find him? An entrance camouflaged with the forested floor would not be easy to locate.
Damian's palm's sweat and his skin itched with alarm, but as stressed out as he was, his anxiety was constantly fighting for dominance over his concern for Forger who was freaking out. Her breathing had turned to gasps as if the wind had been knocked out of her and had slid clumsily to the floor like she'd lost motor control. She'd huddled there shaking, having a panic attack, and Damian sat frozen, his hands white knuckling his seat belt as he watched her dark outline in the corner.
It scared him.
What did he do?
Damian had been preoccupied with his predicament and the lostness he felt at Forger's withdrawal. She'd blocked him out, ignored him, offered not so much as a glance to assure him. She hated he was here. It only clicked now that maybe it was all she knew how to do. It seemed she was barely keeping her head above water herself.
His trembling fingers let go of the belt fastening him to the backseat and undid the buckle. With a bit more grace than Forger, he slipped carefully to the floor of the moving car, and crawled over to where her head was on her knees, and her nails dug into her shins.
Damian whipped a glance the man's way, but Desmond had been quiet and the man didn't hear him. If he was aware of Forger's state, he didn't show it.
Damian tentatively raised a hand. He didn't know what to do and Forger hadn't noticed him. He retracted. He raised it.
He never was good at consoling or calming people. It just didn't come naturally to him.
Why was this so hard?
He fisted his fingers.
They relaxed.
Hesitantly, and with great gentleness, he lightly placed it on her head and he felt her tense. Her body stiffened and her shoulders scrunched, and he questioned if this was a good idea when that was her only response. But he couldn't take it back now and let it rest completely on her head, the weight pressing into her soft hair.
Damian wasn't sure if his nerves were caused by her's, by they way she perceived the situation, or if they were all his own and the hand that was supposed to comfort her, may have been more effective on himself.
He stayed like that for the near two minute drive to the destination and Forger didn't get much better, save for her breathing which was unsteady but deeper.
Damian felt jittery himself, anxious, as he sat in the dark on the floor, and it was possible Forger felt him shaking too. Her reaction to this place had spiked him with fear and he still didn't know where or what they were going to. Forger gave the impression it was awful.
And so he sat with her, dreading what was coming.
He almost didn't notice the vehicle slow or the sound of the speed easing, and ahead, a large door was opening for them. They didn't have to stop and it closed behind them.
There was light and Damian blinked against it as they entered the small hangar where a few other vehicles were parked. The lady situated the car and the adults got out. The driver's door opening was affirmation they'd arrived and it set Forger to crying out loud. Damian removed his hand as she shook her head, bracing her forearms on either side of it. And then the back door opened and while Forger cried harder, he mentally balked at the knowledge that getting out of this car, was stepping into her worst fears.
The lady who waited behind Forger was unimpressed. She reached down and pulled her out by the arm.
"NOO!" Forger screamed at the top of her lungs and Damian tensed at the ferocity, the suddenness of it. "NOO! LET GO!!" She screamed again. "NO! NONONO!" Her voiced wavered then as she bawled in desperation. She clawed and kicked at the woman but she didn't let go.
Previous hesitation forgotten, Damian rushed out after her, urged on by his jackhammer of a heart, and the terror of the like he had never heard from Forger before.
"ANYA! THAT'S ENOUGH!" The man roared and it echoed off the walls nearly as much as she did. Forger was instantly quiet and Damian stilled as if he was talking to him, a foot stopped on the door frame. "You're in enough trouble as it is." The man seethed. "Behave." He emphasized and Forger paled. "And that boy will pay the consequences too."
Damian blanched.
The man turned and the woman pulled Damian in front of her and nudged him forward. Forger's arm was pulled and she was prodded onward as well. She was white as a sheet and stumbled, catatonic, when released.
Damian had no words.
They followed the man out of the hangar into white hallways and Forger was not present. Not mentally. She took faltering steps and the woman was constantly nudging her on. Damian's own shaky hand took her's to pull her along, and he wasn't sure she realized it.
The man's words replayed over and over. 'Consequences', he'd said. Damian would pay them too. What did that mean? He'd said Forger was already in trouble. What would happen to them?
Forger's hands were textured with bandages and he'd heard the excuse she'd fallen and scraped them. But if that was the truth, she wouldn't still be wearing them, and what scrape required that much attention? It wasn't—it wasn't caused by him was it? He hoped not and he didn't want to find out. He didn't like that his well-being felt more and more dependant on Forger.
They were led down a couple long hallways and the doors shifted to heavy metal ones, numbered and equidistant, and placed perfectly in line with an opposite one.
They had sturdy lock systems.
The man yanked on a spoked wheel and metal grated on metal. He opened it. The man looked pointedly at Forger and Damian tightened his hold.
"Director." The lady stopped him. "The children should eat."
His jaw clenched and his fingers drummed on the side of the door."Fine." He swung it closed. "Situate them when they're done, I have work to do" His tone turned agitated when he spoke to Forger again. "We'll speak later."
Damian would've guessed she didn't really hear him if her hand didn't tighten around his.
"What do you want me to do with this kid?" The woman asked.
"I don't care." The man said walking away. "Put him with one of the boys."
The woman wasted no time. "Come. The mess hall's this way." And she nudged him to turn a corner.
Damian did so hazily, trying to asses new information thrown at him. She'd called that man the "Director". Director of what? Why did he have rooms with heavy locks? Why was one of them Forger's? Would Damian be locked in one of those rooms too? Why was the director so angry with Forger? Why did he involve her in. . . whatever this was? What did he need her for?
They came to a door and were led into the mess hall where four long benched tables stood empty. No one was here. There was a counter the woman brought them to and she told a lady on the other side to feed the kids. Then she left and the door was locked behind her.
This was Damian's chance.
The lady gave them them plates of meat and vegetables and Forger's face scrunched as if it upset her. They sat at the end of a table facing each other and Forger didn't touch her dinner. Neither of them felt like eating and it was quiet for the first few minutes.
"Forger. . . what's going on?" Damian ventured and Forger's eyelashes fluttered when she looked up as if she forgot he was there. It had been hours since they'd spoken to one another and it almost felt weird to hear his own voice.
She averted her gaze and gave the table great attention.
"I need to know." He said firmly, on the edge of losing it, and she bit her lip like she was going to cry. He didn't know if he could deal with that again, but he refused to stay in the dark. He was desperate for answers and Forger wasn't sharing them. "Who's that man? Or that lady?" He tried and little vibrations rolled through the table as Forger bounced her knee. She spoke and it was more of a mumble.
"She's Agent Fisher." She said into her hands that she held on top of the table.
"And the man?" He asked. Damian had too many questions about him to count. Many of them related to Forger.
"I'll get in trouble if I tell you. . ." She whispered and he had to drop it. If she got in trouble, they both did.
"K . . .then. . .what is this place?" He asked and she didn't answer, eyes focused intently on anywhere but him.
"Forger." He said.
No answer.
"You can't just not tell me!"
She shook her head.
"Forger—you—ugh!" He growled into his hands that dragged down his face. He was angry and scared, frustrated and high strung. Forger was the only one he could direct it at, and that wasn't right at all, even if she was driving him up the wall. "What are you here for, then?!" He didn't mean to raise his voice again, but he did.
Her elbows propped on the table and her hands covered her face as she shook her head once more. He didn't understand why she was being so difficult.
"Can't you tell me anything?!"
Nothing.
"Ugghh!" His arms crossed on the table, pushing the plate away as he did so, and plopped his head on them. He struggled not to cry. If he fell apart, how were they going to figure this out? He breathed deeply, holding himself together. There had to be something they could do until they were found. He was a Desmond, there was no way his father wouldn't search for him. Or send people to anyway. He sometimes (okay, often) questioned how his father felt about him, but he wouldn't let a family member go missing, slide. They'd be found eventually, he was sure, but how long? How many days? A week? Three weeks? When Forger went missing she was gone for nearly two months. He didn't know what to expect, how to prepare, what was going to happen to him. Would he last that long? He needed a plan, he decided. They needed to escape. An insurmountable task it felt right then. He had no clue where to start and Forger wasn't being helpful.
He only heard his breath and concentrated on it. One and then another. Filling his lungs, as for a moment, everything was shut out from his senses.
He gathered himself and sat back up again a couple minutes later. "How do we escape?" He asked quietly in case the cafeteria lady in the back of the kitchen could hear, and there was no reply. Forger was quiet. Damian had no information on this place, if Forger didn't know how to, how were they getting out of here?