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Will had been mutilated for seven days when the FBI found him. He was unconscious, but it wasn’t a mercy. He’d been forced awake for days, not allowed to sleep or eat. Rewarded for good behaviour with water he was sure was tampered with beyond belief.
He was captured eight days ago; he’d been in a car boot for the best part of a day, tied up, blindfolded, gagged. Devoid of any stimulation.
Jack had burst into the concrete and metal basement he’d been locked in, collar around his neck keeping him in the corner, water on the floor around him from where they’d dropped it to keep him awake. He was shivering even in his unconscious state, and had only woken in the ambulance now, terrified.
The first thing Will notices is an IV in his right arm connecting to a bag on his stomach. Then it’s blood crusted all over him, but that’s not new. Then it’s the noise around him. There hasn’t really been noise for a couple of days, apart from him. Since they discovered he was feeling understimulated, they had decided to make things ten times worse by leaving him alone – apart from when he fell asleep, of course – and silencing everything but himself.
It appears Jack found him, which he’s grateful for because he’s sure he heard one of them say something about some sort of white torture room they’d been preparing. It’s really most convenient.
“Will? Can you hear me?” Jack is in front of his face, not even trying to mask his worry. He's worried. No point trying and failing. That'll only make it worse in Will’s eyes. “Will?”
Will groans, allowing himself to sink back into unconsciousness.