He woke with a start, fighting against the remnants of a nightmare, struggling desperately against the chains, the restraints, the —

Oh.

No, he wasn’t with the Fara, not anymore. He wasn’t about to be shocked, wasn’t about to be poked around by people looking for the source of his ‘sin’.

But something still held him tightly.

Too tightly.

So… so maybe the dream had been his escape from them.

He choked out a weak plea for release, already knowing it was futile, already knowing that he was caught again, already knowing that the leather or metal crossing over his chest wouldn’t listen.

With his eyes still tightly closed, he lay still, terrified.

His restraints moved a little, and he tensed, trying to shrink himself as much as possible. It never helped, but he just couldn’t stop himself.

And he braced himself for the shock, the sparks, the burning up and down his whole body.

“Rian?”

Don’t reply.

Everything in him — brain, heart, gut — was telling him to answer, say the name of the person he longed to have with him now, but that was akin to signing his own death warrant if he was right about where he was.

“Rian, are you okay?”

He kept his mouth clamped shut, still locked in a debate over what to do.

“Please, talk to me.”

And there it was, the order.

“I’m okay,” he lied. They always liked to hear that. It meant they’d hurt him more, which wasn’t exactly good, but if he told them the truth they’d do it in worse ways.

Or try to correct-

Don’t.

Then the restraints moved away entirely, and instead a hand rested on his shoulder.

The speaker’s voice had been calm, but now it grew heavy, dragged down by worry.

“I think you’re lying, you know.”

“I… I’m not lying to you. It’s the truth, it’s the truth, I swear!”