Dangerous Love

Chapter 8: Laughter Hides the Pain

Aaron had to admit, the prison cell was a change of scenery that made him feel more at home than anything.

In his dream, he'd encountered many things. None of them pleasant. It was a lot of what was done to him but more of what he'd done to others. The images that passed through his head weren't new to him. He saw them every night he fell asleep. It hadn't affected him as bad as the others. But that was mainly because it's hard to frighten someone with something they were already used to. The words that had bounced around in his head during the nightmare wasn't anything he didn't tell himself every single day.

So of course it didn't damage him like it had everyone else. How could it? His own memories did that job all on their own.

He'd been called a lot of things in his life. At this point, though they haunted him, he'd also embraced them.

Demon child.

Monster.

Freak.

Murderer.

The only thing he hated being called was Soldier. It was the same thing Aaron's mom would call him when he was young. Her perfect little soldier, she'd say. That's all he was to her. A good soldier. Nothing else. And most of all, he hated it because it was true.

When he'd woken up, he took in his surroundings and immediately started thinking up a plan to get out. The door was made out of metal, steel bars, and where there was a tiny window, it was too high up to reach with faint light filtering through metal bars across it. Even if he were to fly up there, it'd be impossible to squeeze through. The "bed" he was supposed to be sleeping on wasn't much more than a few cardboard sheets and a bunch of old newspapers.

Overall, this was quite a place compared to his old room back at H.Y.D.R.A.

First of all, back then, there wasn't even anything close to a bed. Unless you count the gurney they'd strap him into before rolling him out to conduct an experiment on him. Secondly, there hadn't been any window of the sort. In fact, for the first thirteen years of his life, he had no idea what sunlight even looked like until his handlers tried to transfer him to another base. Not to mention the fact that his old childhood cell was much less roomier than this and that he should actually move around because he wasn't chained to a wall. Although there was a small metal band wrapped around his neck, constricting his breathing. Now that made him internally panic, his mind flashing back to more unpleasant times. No way he could get it off without someone's help.

His hands shook as he clawed at his neck, hoping he could pry it off, but all he succeeded in was scratching his own skin.

His breathing quickened and he started coughing, his throat feeling as narrow as a straw with the metal collar only tightening the deeper breaths he took. Aaron grasped a handful of his hair, hyperventilating. He had to stay calm, or at least act it. Carefully, he slowed his breathing, and forced his face to calm into a cool facade.

"If anyone's here, show yourself right now, and maybe we can work something out," said Aaron nonchalantly, standing up. When no one answered, a small grin spread across his face. "Come on. I know there's gotta be someone here," he taunted, leaning against the metal bars of the door. "Jack Frost? The big tin man himself? Sabrina the Teenage Witch? I'm not talking until I see someone. And that's what you need me to do, right? Talk. Why else would you capture me?"

"Well, well, look who's awake," said a robotic voice as Ultron came into view. The twins stood by his side.

"I see the tin can has made an appearance," Aaron joked with a hand flourish towards the robot. "So to what do I owe the pleasure? You gonna kill me? I'd love to see you try," he grinned in a singsong voice. "You know, I never expected so much luxury in my living quarters. I'm overwhelmed." He gasped suddenly, his grin widening. "Do I get a least meal?"