Unconditionally Conditional

The cell that they took him to was only slightly more accommodating than his previous holding place. This was at least double the size, with a meager offering of furniture. Cain felt better knowing that they had at least decided to upgrade his lodgings. The guards removed his shackles before shutting him in, Cain rubbing at his wrists where the metal had chafed his skin. He immediately went to the cot in his cell, yanking the blanket off in order to wrap it around him for some semblance of modesty.

He tried not to think about what had happened in the chamber. His nerves were still tingling in memory of the pleasure, though getting dragged around by Guards through the freezing cold was a definite afterglow killer. Cain clutched the blanket tightly around his shoulders, trying his best to forget the ghosted impression of where Ambrose's hands had touched him, though his memory was proving treacherously accurate at the moment.

"Wyatt Cain?" A voice whispered quietly from near the bars, Cain twisting his head to see that Ambrose was standing outside of his cell. The man still wore the white coat from earlier, though he'd removed the black gloves, bare fingers curling lightly around the metal bars as he peered in at the blond.

Cain jumped up, hurrying over to the bars, his blue eyes full of questions. "Who are you? How did you know that I was a Fighter? You recognized my tattoo. No one outside of the Resistance would understand what it was."

"I recognized it." Ambrose whispered back, pale face settled between the bars so that they could speak more privately. "I used to have one myself."

"You were--?!" Cain was hushed hurriedly by the other man, Ambrose's hands waving him quickly to silence.

"Yes. Now isn't the time for us to discuss those things, though. Zero will be arriving here shortly to begin your training."

"Why do I get the impression that I'm not going to like his methods?" Cain asked wryly, shifting the blanket around his shoulders with a sigh.

Ambrose's face softened with sympathy, eyes dropping. "I tried to get you out of it. I can't argue with the Queen. She seems to believe that you would pose some kind of danger to me as you are. It's her hope that Zero will .. take some of the fight out of you." He finished, frowning.

"I see." Cain scowled. "Any advice on how to handle Zero?"

"Just a few things." Ambrose murmured. "If you resist, he likes it. The more you fight, the rougher he gets. He's been known to beat people bloody to the brink of death. Zero is completely out of his mind, as far as sadist's go."

"What's he going to do to me?"

Ambrose sighed, shaking his head. "No one can really be sure, but I doubt that you're going to enjoy any part of it, knowing Zero. Don't fight him. It'll go easier for you that way. Zero knows how to get under people's skin in the worst kinds of ways."

The Medic yelped as a pair of bare arms slid around his waist from behind, Ambrose being hauled back from the bars. Zero smirked where he held the smaller figure draped back against his chest, drawling pleasantly. "Talking about me behind my back, Ambrose? For shame."

"Get your hands off me." Ambrose growled out in a voice that Cain definitely would not have wanted to argue with.

Zero, however, seemed unaffected by the threat, as he pressed a firm kiss against Ambrose's cheek, ignoring the Medic's attempts to squirm free. "Aw. Now is that any way to treat the man who's going to get your pet housebroken?"

Cain tolerated Zero's continued treatment of Ambrose for five more seconds, before he snapped out flatly, "Why don't you leave him alone? He obviously doesn't like you tou--"

The blond jerked back away from the bars as one of Zero's hands slammed out, hitting with vicious force right where his face had been. Cain found himself being targeted by a burning glare from the man, as Zero said coldly, "Don't speak unless spoken to, slave."

Ambrose had freed himself when Zero's ire turned to Cain, smoothing his jacket back into place as he gave the blond a pleading look. "It's fine, Cain. Zero's just like that." His eyes were begging Cain not to get the Trainer anymore riled up than he already was.

Zero took his eyes off Cain in order to smirk towards Ambrose. "So, are you going to stay and watch the show?" He laced his fingers together, cracking his knuckles. "I'll try to keep him intact, so long as he doesn't talk back like that anymore."

Cain saw Ambrose turn whiter than his coat, the Medic shaking his head. "N-no. I don't want to watch. You had better not hurt him, Zero. He's mine, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." Zero sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "I got it. Now go run along and get back to playing doctor. This is my specialty, Doc."

Ambrose looked torn, eyes shifting between Cain and Zero. His eyes gave Cain one last warning to behave himself, for his own sake, before the Medic walked quietly away.

Zero's head had turned, watching the Medic go, before it swung back to look in at Cain. The blond was clutching at his blanket so hard that his knuckles had gone white. Mildly, Cain murmured, "I suppose that beating me too much is out of the question, if he wants you to keep me intact."

"True.." Zero nodded, before grinning. "But I have plenty of other means to break you. And I'll have plenty of time to use them before anyone else comes back to check up on us." He reached down to the front of his pants, adjusting them deliberately to add hint to his implications. "Hope you aren't a screamer, blondie..."

~~~~~~~~~~

It took some time for Cain to regain consciousness from where Zero had knocked him out of awareness with some precise blows to his head. His head was in agony, having trouble getting his eyes to open at his command.

Then he became aware of the fact that his hands were bound behind his back.

Then he became aware that he was on the floor of his cell.

Then he became aware that he was choking on something in his throat. His brain dimly informed him that it was only Zero, and that he'd probably finish soon.

When Cain drifted back into awareness again, Zero was dressed as if it had never happened, addressing him coldly. "If you tell anyone, even your 'master', about what took place in here today, I will come back to this cell and gut you, Queen or no."

~~~~~~~~~~

He woke again to a pleasant tingling all over his face and head, as something cold brushed carefully over the places that Zero's violence had damaged. Cain managed to slit one eye open to determine who was tending to him.

Ambrose's delicate face was a portrait of melancholy as he continued to spread some kind of ointment onto Cain's skin. He was wearing a black Medic's uniform now, and the white leather gloves were stained red from what Cain surmised was his blood. The man was seated on the edge of the cot where Cain lay, bending over him as he administered the treatment. Once Ambrose noticed that the blond's eye was open, he focused on it with a sigh. "I'm sorry. This ointment is a balm called 'Hurtloam'. It should numb the pain and have that all healed up by the end of tonight. I warn you, though..." He tried for humor, but failed, "it will itch terribly. Don't scratch at it."

Cain nodded silently, though the action sliced pain through his head and neck. Zero must have done quite a number on him. His jaw hurt the worst. Cain couldn't figure out if it was from the beatings or from ... the other stuff. He didn't want to dwell on that long enough to diagnose the cause.

Ambrose finished applying the ointment, before rubbing his gloved fingers against a towel nearby. Cain saw that it was also stained red in several places. The Medic stood slowly, trying not to jostle the man on the cot. "I gave you a slight sedative. The hurtloam will handle the pain for the most part, but sleep will heal the rest." He placed his hand down briefly on Cain's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I'll check in on you tomorrow."

Part of Cain wanted to ask the man not to leave. He did not want to fall into sleep, unable to control what happened to him while he slept. Afraid that Zero might get a whim to pay him another visit. But it felt like it would hurt too much to talk, and Cain's pride would not allow him to admit his fears. Instead, as Ambrose quietly left the cell, the blond shut his eyes and let the drugs in his system lull him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Zero visited him on a daily basis. Usually whenever Ambrose was busy with his tasks. The Trainer mentioned to Cain that he'd taken a liking to the blond, which was why he was so determined to see that Cain's training was thorough. Cain was defiant every time, just to get some ire out of the man. Anything to avoid seeing that look of triumph on Zero's face when he thought that he was getting through.

Cain was able to tell when Zero was having a bad day, depending on how severe a beating he got out of the Trainer. Ambrose would yell at the man when he came back from the laboratories, livid with anger at the state Cain was left in. Zero would laugh, or shrug it off, and justify his actions by implying that the blond was still being too feisty for his liking. Cain had not told Ambrose about the other things which Zero had decided to do with him. The Medic looked so anguished whenever he tended to Cain's wounds that the blond did not want him knowing that there was more than just beatings taking place. He wanted to let Ambrose believe that.

He hated Zero, and Zero knew it. So Zero delighted even further in abusing the blond. He would stuff Cain's blanket into his mouth to muffle the sounds the blond would make when Zero would fuck him on the floor, or on the cot. The beatings he proudly let the world hear; the fucking was swift, silent and cruel, a private enjoyment purely for Zero's own entertainment.

Cain decided that this was hell. He had died in the attack on the Palace, and now was being punished for some unfathomable sin, to have to suffer through this endless pattern of humiliation, pain and helplessness.

Today, Zero had him up against the wall, the bonds holding his wrist together looped around a pipe to keep Cain from turning around. It was a little more vicious than usual. Zero had been in a bad mood the minute he'd stepped foot inside the cell. He was taking Cain roughly, his thrusts clumsily quick, greedily searching for his own satisfaction to take the ebb of his anger.

Then Cain heard Zero grunt, but it was different from usual. It wasn't out of pleasure. In fact, it sounded pretty painful. Zero was stopping in his motions, becoming a heavy weight on Cain's back, before Cain felt him slipping out and falling onto the floor at the blond's feet. He strained around to look over his shoulder, trying to figure out what little miracle had just occurred here. Had Zero had a heart attack?

Ambrose was standing in the cell, a beatstick from one of the Guards held in both of his gloved hands. His eyes were locked on Zero, face livid. As Cain watched, the Medic lifted the beatstick again over his head, before slamming it down on Zero's cranium with a rather sick sort of sound. Ambrose looked capable of murder in that moment. Cain whispered, shakily, "Ambrose, stop. Stop!"

The Medic did not seem to hear him at first, raising that beatstick again. Cain cleared his throat and spoke a second time, louder now. "Ambrose! You can't kill him."

Brown eyes fluttered, before Ambrose looked over at Cain. "Wyatt?"

He dropped the beatstick to the floor as if it were on fire, looking down at where Zero lay on the floor in astonishment. Then the Medic was hurrying over, gloved hands shaking badly as he undid the bonds holding Cain tied to the pipe. Cain slumped once freed, but the Medic was ready to steady him, an arm around the blond's back to keep him from falling. Ambrose snatched up the blanket from the cot, throwing it over Cain's body to offer him some covering.

"You're coming out of here with me. I'll deal with the Queen. Zero will be punished for this, I promise." The Medic murmured swiftly, breathless as he guided Cain along out of the cell.

"Is he dead?" Cain asked dully.

"No. He'll survive, unfortunately." Ambrose answered, not bothering to hide his regret at the news.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To my personal suite. I'll tend to you there, before speaking with the Queen. I am not leaving you alone with anyone else."

"Good." Cain said, and he meant it with every part of him.

~~~~~~~~

Ambrose's suite was actually larger than Cain's old home had been. The rooms were all open to each other, a tidy space that suited the Medic with its spartan decorum and simple furnishings. Cain could not find enough focus to drink in many details about the place, only thankful when he heard the sound of Ambrose locking the door behind them.

The Medic was pulling him forward, looking at him with concern, as he led Cain into a spacious bathroom. He eased the blond down to sit on the floor, not trusting him to manage sitting on anything higher in his current condition. Ambrose turned away from Cain in order to get water running into the bath, gloves squeaking around the metal. Cain, not entirely lucid, decided that it was the perfect time to ask, "What's with the gloves? You don't want to touch me without them?"

"It isn't that." Ambrose said distractedly, his attention mainly on the filling bath tub. "I don't touch anyone without them. It's ... a quirk, I guess." He explained.

Cain let the matter go for now. It was hard to focus on anything with that much pain in his body. He nearly blacked out from it, but Ambrose was shaking him back to awareness, the Medic taking hold of his upper arms. "Come on. Into the bath. You're too big for me to manage on my own."

With the Medic's assistance, Cain stepped into the tub. The water was hot, nearly uncomfortable. It initially made his pain worse, yet Ambrose assured him that it would help. Cain stuck it out until he found out that the Medic was right. The heat was working wonders for his sore muscles. He sank down into the cradle of the tub, head resting back against the lip of it as Cain tried to relax.

He blinked up as Ambrose began to lather up a cloth with soap, the Medic seating himself on the edge of the tub. Leaning over, the man began to slide the cloth cautiously over Cain's skin, as if the man were made of glass and not tougher materials. "How long has Zero been doing that to you?"

"Since the first day." Cain answered, figuring that since the air was clear, he was free to talk about the subject. "Told me he'd kill me if I said anything. I believed that he'd do it, too."

Ambrose nodded as he slid the cloth across Cain's shoulders. "He would. I have no doubt about that."

"Aren't you going to alert someone? He's bleeding all over the place in that cell." Cain pointed out, without enthusiasm.

"Let him bleed awhile. He'll come around eventually." A snort came out of the Medic, as he continued with his careful handling of the blond. Ambrose hesitated when the cloth reached the level of the water, murmuring, "Do you think that you can handle washing yourself? I should go see the Queen before Zero wakes up."

"I can manage. Go see her."

Ambrose nodded, standing. He gave Cain a stern look. "No falling asleep in the water. I will be back as soon as I can." Then the Medic was hurrying out of the bathroom, out of sight. Cain did hear the distant sound of Ambrose locking the door behind him when he left, which helped to put him at ease. It was awkward, but he managed to get himself settled into washing without too much difficulty.