Without Control ((FULL))

[Dreaming_Drifter]

Jorden Gregory Ariake

Jorden felt like his heart stopped when he was grabbed from behind. He gasped and struggled, confused when he felt his head getting light. 'Oh, s**t... Chloroform...' He realized as his muffled yells and thrashing grew weaker. Tears filled his eyes as his assailant mentioned his boyfriend. 'N-No... Have to get home... Have to protect... Mikhail... Mikhail...' His last thought was of his lover as he was forced into unconsciousness.

 

[Dreaming_Drifter]

Dr. Sirrah Rawlings

Sirrah was inside Jorden and Tank's apartment before two minutes had passed. She hugged her nephew's frantic boyfriend and then stepped back, speaking sternly in Russian so he would be sure to understand her. "Uspokoĭsya. My ne pozvolim, chtoby chto-nibud sluchit sya Dzhorden. Teperʹ pokazhite mne, kto nuzhdayut·sya v moyeĭ pomoshchi."

(*Calm down. We will not let anything happen to Jorden. Now, show me the ones who need my help.)

 

[Dreaming_Drifter]

Dr. Sirrah Rawlings

Sirrah turned her attention to the young woman, her expression gentle as she nodded. "Well, let us go see Alik, then. Don't you worry, I'll fix you all up in no time." She smiled and gestured for the girl to lead the way.

 

[Dreaming_Drifter]

Dr. Sirrah Rawlings

Sirrah frowned, not liking that the girl assumed she was going to hurt the injured female further, but nodded serenely and let it go. The girl was obviously stressed and tired, so Sirrah would just be careful. She placed a hand on Alik's forehead, letting her natural diagnostics tell her the problem... Or in this case, problems.

"I'm sorry, little one, I need to set your legs... It might hurt a bit, so... Um, Miss, you might want to hold her hand, or give her something to grip?" She waited until she was sure the injured girl was ready before moving her broken limbs into the proper position. She splinted and bound them as carefully as she could, making sure the bindings were secure so that the bones would stay in place and not hurt the poor girl anymore. She put antibiotic gel on the cuts, sewing up the major ones first, and put ice gently on the girl's eye, making a mental note to remove the ice after fifteen minutes. "There we go... Are you feeling any better, sweetheart? Would you like something for the pain?"

 

[Dreaming_Drifter]

Dr. Sirrah Rawlings

Sirrah nodded in consent. She wouldn't force Alik to take anything she didn't want to. "Who else is injured?" she asked the group of weary Russians gently. She was asking out of politeness rather than ignorance; it was obvious that most of them were injured at least a bit.

 

[Dreaming_Drifter]

Jorden Gregory Ariake

Jorden groaned and stirred lazily, his body and mind still heavy from the drugs his unknown assailant had used on him. After a few minutes, he registered that he was lying on what might be a very lumpy mattress. He shuddered as a metallic, sour smell filled his nose. 'Blood...'

He opened his eyes and sat up, almost immediately regretting the action. "Oww..." he groaned, holding his head in his hands and blocking out the fluorescent lights. "Stupid chloroform..." He knew he'd have a pounding headache for quite awhile, so he eased his eyes open again and took in his surroundings.

Jorden had been placed in a small, oppressive cell. The walls and floors were concrete, and smeared with enough blood to make the boy nervous. He shuddered when he realized there was also blood on the sheets and mattress. 'What I wouldn't give for some hand sanitizer...' He was positive, however, that the blood wasn't his, so he tried to ignore it for the time being.

There was a drain in the floor that Jorden couldn't figure out the purpose of at the moment. The room's amenities included a metal mirror, toilet, and sink. His bed was indeed a lumpy mattress on the floor. He glanced toward the door, which was barred like a prison cell. "Well, this is just peachy..."