#normalhughie

[aerospectrum]

"Calm your tits, Rambo, you're not gonna become a psycho killer. Not right away anyway." Ben stepped up close to Hughie, practically eliminating the space between himself and the younger man- his hips aligning with his, surprisingly mindful to not step on his bare feet. "Just focus on me, alright- none of those internal monologues telling you what could go wrong or any of that shit. Listen to my voice, look at my face- follow my instructions, got it?" his tone roughened up and he shifted into a place of focus and mission rather than calm.

"This might hurt." Ben grabbed Hughie's arm and the torniquet behind him. "You've got good veins... guess it's good you're not a crackhead who shoots up constantly, huh?" he stated flippantly, tying the band around his arm and slapping the skin in search for which vein he wanted to inject. "Don't flinch, don't tell me I'm doing it too hard-- and don't tell me to stop, I hate that shit." Green eyes narrowed and raised up slowly to lock on Hughie's. "And don't cry either... I'm really not the type to console." he added pointedly.

He looked back down, finding the vein and letting his arm go so he could fill the syringe with the bright blue fluid. His eyes danced lower for a moment to actually take in Hughie's form, his exposed body and the damage from being dragged through brush and branches and rocks. He raised his brows then blinked and set the vial down to reach for his arm again. "Take a few deep breaths for me." he set his fingertips against Hughie's collarbone and pushed him back just a hair. He swallowed and brought the needle to the vein- "Last chance to back out." he slowly lowered the sharp to the skin. "But don't... betray me." his stare was cold and lifeless, his tone dark and deadly, an obvious struggle rolling just beneath the surface to trust the man, to not replay his teams betrayal at every given opportunity. He shoved the needle in, feeling the skin give as the point broke through with ease. "Ready?"

Hughie's lanky frame tensed up, his shoulders hunching as he pressed back against the table. His eyes, wide with a mix of terror and reluctant determination, darted between Soldier Boy's face and the vial in his hand. He let out a shaky laugh that was more of a nervous exhale.

"Oh, fantastic," Hughie muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Super powers and insanity. Sounds like a real winning combo." He ran a trembling hand through his messy curls, a habit that always intensified when he was stressed.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed, shaking his head. "No restraints, alright? Let's not add more nightmare fuel to this whole... whatever this is." His fingers drummed anxiously against the edge of the table, betraying his mounting anxiety.

Hughie took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. When he spoke again, his voice was a mix of resignation and gallows humor. "Right. Let's do this before I remember I'm scared of needles. And heights. And basically everything else that comes with being a supe." He paused, then added with a hint of his trademark self-deprecating humor, "Though I guess 'terrified mess' isn't the worst superhero origin story out there."

His blue eyes, simultaneously terrified and oddly resolute, met Soldier Boy's gaze. "Just... try not to turn me into a complete psychopath, okay? I'd like to keep at least a shred of my sanity. You know, for old times' sake."

[aerospectrum]

"Eh, who needs sanity when you've got super powers." Ben let the words roll off his tongue with little more than a shrug. "For the record- this Cap'n America guy... pussy work compared to me." he claimed, as if he even knew the guy. He watched the curls bounce from Hughie's fingers repeated carding through them and swallowed down the warmth of curiosity rising in his chest.

Hughie's nervous laughter brought out a brightness in Ben's eyes that had been slowly clouding over and darkening along their dancing on eggshell conversations. There was a steady hopefulness starting to pry itself out of the vice grip he'd been smothering it in.

His lips quirk up in a smile that gleams in his dark green hues. "Big guy huh?" he raised his brows and shrugged in contentment. "I could get used to that." he teased with a sudden gentleness in his tone. The loneliness was more boring than anything- felt a bit like drowning at times, but the fact the kid was willing to go down the path of Supe and entrust Ben with his literal survival... whatever was blooming in his chest.. pride, maybe? Fuck, it felt nice. He took another breath in, the motion made his chest expand, growing his size slightly.

His lips spread into a hearty smile and he approached Hughie quicker than he meant to, grabbing both his shoulders and squeezing harder than he realized. His smile went from ear- like fucking Ronald McDonald. "Well fuck me sideways, Hughie, you're probably gonna regret this but fuck if we aren’t gonna have ourselves a fuckin’ parade before that happens." He assured him, excitement so palpable it rolled off him in waves.

He pushed Hughie back against the table, not entirely convinced he should keep him unrestrained for this, but what the hell. He grabbed a vial and tossed it in the air; watching it rise and fall in slow motion- before catching it in his red mitt. "You want me to tie you down for this or are we past that? I wouldn't want to risk you getting another hard on for me and not be able to take care of it after all." he winked, as if to tease him with the memory, still using his vulnerable state against him somewhat.

"Holy shitballs," Hughie began, his voice a cocktail of nervousness and growing resolve. "I feel like I've stumbled into some kind of surrealist painting. 'The Persistence of Memory,' except instead of melting clocks, it's my sanity dripping away while I stand here starkers, contemplating superpowers with America's favorite defrosted super-soldier." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a habit that seemed even more pronounced in his current state of undress. His blue eyes darted around the room before finally settling on Soldier Boy, a new determination gleaming beneath the fear.

"Look, I've been playing it safe, hiding behind dumpsters and watching from the sidelines. And where has that gotten me? Nowhere good, that's for sure." Hughie's voice grew stronger, steadier. "Maybe it's time I stopped being the guy who gets saved and started being the one who does the saving."

He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his exposed throat. "Your offer... it's terrifying. But so is everything else in this fucked-up world we're living in. At least with this, I'd have a fighting chance."

A nervous chuckle escaped him, sounding more like a hiccup. "So yeah, maybe this is some kind of twisted bonding moment. But you know what? I'm tired of being powerless. I'm tired of watching the people I care about get hurt while I can't do a damn thing about it."

He finally met Soldier Boy's gaze fully, his own a swirling mix of fear, determination, and a spark of something that might have been hope. Or maybe just the desperate bravado of a man with nothing left to lose.

"Alright, big guy. I'm in. Whatever you're offering - the V, the training, all of it. I want to be more than just the guy cowering in the corner. I want to make a difference. So yeah, let's do this. Teach me how to be a hero, or whatever the hell passes for one these days."

Hughie stood there, naked and exposed in more ways than one, a living embodiment of vulnerability transforming into unexpected strength. The air around him seemed to crackle with the remnants of his power and the electric tension of the moment, awaiting the next chapter in his unlikely alliance with Soldier Boy.

[aerospectrum]

Ben clenched his jaw tightly again, baring a subtle flash of his teeth- a grimace of sorts while taking in an entirely new and endless ramble about baking and whatever other rabbit trails the guy was careening down.

"Bizzare-o porn flicks are pretty good if you find the right ones... just sayin." Ben shrugged, still watching Hughie dance around his questions for a bit longer. He took a slow breath in, adjusting his folded arms again and leaning back with one hip against the side of the counter to hear him out fully. Making a slight face every once in a while but for the most part- tracking what the other guy was laying down. "Whack-a-mole's one of those old carnival games, right?" he asked- it was really a miracle he followed anything Hughie was saying with what he chose to respond to every few seconds.

He nodded, capturing his bottom lip with the top one for a long beat followed by his pressing both lips out and then smashing them into a thin pink line. "You seem pretty stable on the temporary shit.. what make you think you'll go off the rails with the real one- the lady you're with... seems pretty stable to me. Then again, she's got a bitch face to rival the best so I don't know, does it make her extra pissy or some shit?"

Ben stood to full stature when Hughie looked up at him again, cocking his head to the side a bit he stared for an uncomfortably long time- partly to try and make him more on edge and partly because he didn't feel like figuring out his own double edged sword yet. He wet his lips again and chewed on the inside skin of his bottom lip letting his brows furrow together as he mulled it over once more. "I didn't take fucking geometry so I couldn't tell you shit on how to solve this..." he mused softly, his features shifting to an almost complex form of second-guessing. Internally doubting himself for a split second. "You know much about my team from back in the day- any of the members... I kept those motherfuckers safe, put my balls on fuckin' the line for them and you see what they did to me.. fucked me... all those motherfucker's can blow me slowly... You give everything to them and they just sell you out like you didn't mean fucking shit. Fuck those guys." he blinked, turning around to set the vials down again, rolling them against one another and listening to them clink against one another.

He knows he sounds bitter, maybe a smidge deranged, but there's something else he knows he sounds like and it's beginning to infuriate him. He sounds... desperate, lonely even. He can sense the longing- the need for close connection, hell, physicality, but he doesn't act on it even if he does think everything about Hughie screams bend me over the counter and fuck me. His expression pulls his lips back, dimpling his cheeks a bit as he stares at the blue liquid.

"Holy shit, this is… this is a lot to process. Like, way more than that time I accidentally deleted three seasons of 'The Great British Bake Off' from my dad's DVR and he looked at me like I'd just drop-kicked his childhood dog." Hughie let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a hiccup, his lanky fingers running through his curly hair, making it stick up even more wildly.

"Uh, thanks for the… offer? Compliment? Whatever the hell this is. And hey, not being a rapist is definitely a point in your favor. Gold star for basic human decency, I guess?" Hughie's voice cracked slightly. "But man, you've got to understand, this is kind of a mindfuck for me. One minute I'm trying not to become a Supe-kebab, the next I'm tied up naked with Captain America's edgy, homicidal cousin offering me superpowers and… other things. It's like I've stumbled into some bizarre porn parody of my own life."

Hughie shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing redder. "As for what I want? Jesus, I don't even know anymore. I thought I wanted to be a hero, you know? Make a difference, save the day, get the girl - or guy, apparently, because why not add sexual identity crisis to my list of daily existential crises? But every time I try, it's like I'm just digging myself deeper into this insane, fucked-up world. I'm basically playing Whac-A-Mole with my life choices here."

His eyes darted to the vial of Compound V, a mix of fear and longing swirling in their blue depths. "Part of me wants to take that V, to finally have the power to protect the people I care about. To not be the guy always cowering behind a dumpster while supes duke it out. But another part of me is fucking terrified of what it might turn me into. I mean, have you seen the track record of V-users? It's not exactly a 'Most Stable People of the Year' calendar."

Finally, Hughie met Soldier Boy's gaze, trying to summon up some courage and probably looking more like a startled chipmunk. "So what do I want? I want to understand what the hell is going on here. What's your endgame? Because if there's one thing I've learned in this mess, it's that there's always an angle. And right now, I feel like I'm in a geometry problem from hell."

[aerospectrum]

"Hmm." He made a face and then shrugged into an brow raise. "I had a pogo stick when I was a kid, it was a piece of shit." he laughed softly at the memory and then returned his attention back to Hughie, very clearly panicking at his advances. "If you say yes, you say yes... if you say no, then I'll just do what I initially set out to do when I clocked you out hours ago. Inject you with a decent amount of Supe Juice and monitor you from there. I'm a fucking dickhead, I can admit that, but I'm not a rapist." Ben made a disgruntled face at Hughie, nearly glaring at the insinuation.

He sighed, puffing his cheeks out as Hughie tried to decipher his sexuality and where exactly he lived on the Kinsey scale. The indentation between his brows shifted deeper when he narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, not so much pouting as he was just mulling over the intense existential crises exposes Hughie always lost himself in while trying to defend his mere existence.

"Kinda thought you were already on my team." his gravelly voice became a bit gruffer and his togue peeked out between his lips, sliding along the lower one that's still slightly chapped. "You mean the spangly motherfucker from the party that we still haven't managed to ice yet?" he quirked a brow downward and the other upward. "Listen up, you're good at this Supe shit, you're quick, you've got the wit the speed- hell maybe even the strength." He eyed Hughie and then suddenly started undoing the straps he'd used to bind Hughie to the table while he'd still been out. "You're not 'fight Homelander' good though. Not with Temp V or any of those fucking pussy ass monologues that just seem to fucking leak out of you like a whore stuck in a gloryhole." He put it... softly, then backed up to grab the vials of comp V off the counter.

"So... what the hell do you want, Hughie?" he folded his arms, brushing a bit of soot and ash off his elbow from an earlier explosion. "Since you're not gay and all that shit." he looked at him with a dull, almost lifelessly unimpressed expression.

"Right, Butcher," Hughie nodded, trying to keep his voice steady despite feeling like he was tap-dancing on a minefield. "Yeah, he's been hitting the Temp V like it's discount whiskey at happy hour. Could probably use the upgrade too, you know?"

Hughie's eyes darted around, desperately avoiding lingering on Soldier Boy's stupidly perfect physique. The guy looked like he'd been chiseled out of marble by a horny Greek sculptor with a thing for rugged war heroes. It was downright unfair.

When Soldier Boy dropped the 'sex him up' bomb, Hughie's brain short-circuited like an overloaded power strip. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!" he yelped, his face flushing redder than Maeve's costume. The closeness of Soldier Boy's body wasn't helping matters. Hughie felt like a scrawny nerd at a bodybuilder convention.

"Okay, okay," Hughie stammered, words tumbling out faster than he could think them through. "I see what you're doing here. This is some kind of 'Catch-22' situation, right? If I say yes, I'm gay, if I say no, I'm… what? Ungrateful? Look, man, I'm about as straight as… as… well, not as straight as I thought five minutes ago, apparently."

Trying to regain some semblance of control, Hughie locked eyes with Ben, feeling like a Chihuahua staring down a Rottweiler. "I kinda figured the whole 'kidnap Hughie and tie him up naked' thing was leading to some Compound V injection, not… whatever this is. So, uh, what's the real deal here? What do you want from me? Because right now, I'm more confused than that time I accidentally walked in on Love Sausage in the shower."

Hughie's mind was racing faster than A-Train on a meth bender. He was trying to piece together this bizarre puzzle, but it felt like trying to assemble Ikea furniture while blindfolded and drunk. "Look, if this is about the Compound V, just say so. I mean, I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea of turning into a supe - no offense - but it beats whatever twisted game of 20 Questions we're playing right now. So what's the catch? Do I have to join your team? Fight Homelander? Because let me tell you, my superpowers so far have been limited to spectacular fails and occasional teleportation, which is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine when you're facing off against the psychotic Man of Steel."

[aerospectrum]

”The fuck about him?” Ben made a face and shrugged, entirely disinterested in the Brit or his whereabouts. At the mention of the guy getting a dose too though, it did make Ben pause and roll the thought around his brain for a decent amount of time. Eventually he compartmentalized the idea somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind where tuna casserole and shitty mre’s went to die. It’d be safe enough there for sure. “Guess you’re just my little lab rat.” He winked, a tense smile straining itself across his lips for a haphazard second.

“Really? ‘Cause that raging boner says otherwise.”There was another pause that lead him to lean sideways against the counter, propping himself up on one elbow and folding his hands together. “Hughie, be honest with me here, I’m too old for games; r’you trying to ask me to fuck you or some shit?” He taunted him, standing straight again he pulled his shoulders back to give the illusion of being even taller than he already was “Cause if we’re talking fight or flight you’re more than welcome to ride me… I wouldn’t complain.” He leaned in closer, smirking at the other man before reaching a finger out and hooking it up under Hughie’s chin to tilt his head back and look him in the eyes.

“Nah c’mon,” he playfully guffawed. “Now you’re just being modest, the curls are really adding a depth to your… dimension or whatever the hell you fucks call it these days.” He waved his free hand around in a lackluster manner. “I’m not disagreeing with you on the whole I can get whoever I want, but what exactly do you want out of this, Hughie?” He hummed his name, almost melodically. “What do you think I’d do to you exactly?” Ben tilted his head slightly and his eyes narrowed in response. “Your blood pressure tells me you’re a little too into this.” He taunted him again; curious to the wheels and gears that had to be just fucking careening out of control in the guys head.

"Holy shit," Hughie's eyes widened like he'd just seen Homelander do a striptease. "Real V? Like, the real deal?" His lanky frame tensed up, caught between excitement and terror. It was like being offered a backstage pass to a Springsteen concert, except the Boss might accidentally vaporize you.

Hughie's mind raced faster than A-Train on a meth bender. "What's the catch?" he blurted out, his voice cracking like he was 13 again. "Because let me tell you, my track record with 'too good to be true' offers is about as stellar as The Deep's attempts at marine conservation."

His gaze locked onto the vial of Compound V like it was the last slice of pizza at a frat party. It wasn't the familiar green of Temp V - this was the big leagues, the stuff that turned regular schmucks into cape-wearing psychopaths.

"Uh, what about Butcher?" Hughie asked, suddenly remembering his gruff, perpetually pissed-off mentor. "Is he getting a dose of the good stuff too, or is this a 'Hughie gets to be the lab rat' kind of deal?"

When Soldier Boy called out his involuntary physical reaction, Hughie felt his face burn hotter than if he'd face-planted on the sun. "Jesus Christ, man!" he yelped, his embarrassment cranked up to eleven. "It's not like I'm enjoying this! You've got me tied up and naked - it's fight or flight, except my body's choosing a third, really inconvenient option!"

Soldier Boy's obvious enjoyment of the situation made Hughie feel like a gazelle being circled by a particularly sadistic lion. "Come on, seriously?" he protested, his voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "You're like, what, the OG superhero? You could probably get anyone you wanted faster than Homelander can say 'I can do whatever I want.' Why the hell are you fixating on me? Is it the curls? Because I gotta tell you, this is not my best hair day."

[aerospectrum]

“No you look, kid.” Ben interrupted his tangent- or tried to anyway. “Do you really think a guy like me doesn’t know where to get his hands on V— or how to inject it without killing a motherfucker?” He rested his hands on his hips and laughed to himself. “That’s rich… kid thinks I only dispense lethal dosage.” He brushed his hands off on his thighs and took a deep breath in.

His brows raised in surprise at how Hughie jumped when he patted his stomach, instantly he furrows his brows and made a face, the side of his upper lip curled up in slight judgment again and finally his brows raised completing the emotional rollercoaster Hughie’s denial took him on. “Jesus fuck, do you need to do a line or something to mellow the hell out? I was teasin’ you, Hughie. Christ, it’s a miracle that chick dates you; she must stay with you for your dick cause it sure ain’t your brains.” He gruffly grumbled out, setting the bright blue vial down beside them.

But his eyes went wide as silver dollars when the guy sprang a hard on and Ben crumpled forward in laughter. “Wow… now that.” He leaned back and pressed a hand over his lips momentarily, locking eyes with Hughie to try and save his dignity a bit. He palmed at his scruff and the lowered his hand. “That I wasn’t expecting.” He finished his comment. It was a bit like a game of cat and mouse and Hughie seemed to be on the losing side of things by far. Ben almost felt a bit guilty about it all. Almost. “You gonna fix that or are you waiting for me to?” He teased, but hell, if the guy asked who was he to deny him? Mostly he was concerned with seeing what a fully powered up Hughie a would do for things; that and he wanted to know if it would work too, maybe give the man some extra juice in situations that might call for it.

"Things aren't exactly sunshine and rainbows from where I'm sitting either, you know?" Hughie stammered, his lanky frame squirming uncomfortably against the restraints. He felt about as improper as a vegan at a barbecue contest. 

Hughie's wide blue eyes darted between Ben and the restraints, his mind racing faster than A-Train on a coke binge. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool like he was back at the electronics store dealing with a Karen demanding a refund on a 10-year-old DVD player.

"Look, man," Hughie started, his voice cracking slightly, "Permanent V isn't exactly something you can pick up with your groceries, you know? It's not like, 'Oh, let me grab some milk, eggs, and oh yeah, a dose of potentially fatal superhero juice.'" He let out a nervous chuckle that sounded more like a whimper.

As Ben went on about the Temp V, Hughie's ears perked up like a dog hearing a bag of treats being opened. The discomfort of his bare ass on the cold surface faded into the background as he focused on Ben's words, trying not to jump to conclusions faster than Homelander jumps to murder.

"Hey, woah now!" Hughie protested, his face flushing redder than Starlight's costume when Ben called him pudgy. "I'll have you know I do cardio. Well, I mean, I think about doing cardio. Sometimes. When I'm not running for my life from psychotic supes."

But when Ben pinched his hip, Hughie's body reacted in a way that made him wish he could melt into the floor like Termite. His face burned hotter than if he'd face-planted on a BBQ grill. "Oh god," he muttered, mortified, knowing there was no way to hide his body's betrayal. 

[aerospectrum]

Ben rolled his eyes, resting his hands on the countertop he turned to cock a brow at Hughie with slightly pursed lips. He let him talk for as long as he was physically willing to listen. Which, not surprisingly, wasn't that long.

"Do you ever stop talking or is that just a birth defect of your generation?" his lips tensed together again, dimpling the space between his cheeks and beard. He inhaled a long, slow breath and held it- rolling the air around his lungs for a beat longer. The flattery remark earned a subtle narrowing of his eyes- his brows pinched together as he gave Hughie an invasive once over again and then... he cracked a smile.

A genuine smile, not one of those tense- appear friendly for the camera's type smile. "You're a weird motherfucker, aren't you Hughie..." he didn't actually pose his remark as a question, leaving it more rhetorical than anything. "Sure your temp V might be done-zo, but you're not." he added. "You can't honestly think going back to the overly bland life of a.. regular human is the best choice for you now, can you?" He turned and rummaged through a half rusted and decaying wooden crate, occasionally glancing over to where Hughie was strapped down.

"Relax, kid... you're more of a spring chicken than a plucked one." with a heavy hand he slapped his hand against Hughie's stomach a few times; more than likely knocking the wind from him with how hard he patted him. "You know you should really work on training your core- feels a little pudgy." he gave him a judgmental glance and pinched the skin above his hip just for the hell of it. "Just sit tight, you can get dressed after we figure a few things out." he raised a brow again, "Unless you make it fuckin' weird, then I'm just gonna make you, well you know, deal with it." he shrugged, his lips curling upwards in a lopsided manner.

"Uh, Jesus Christ!" Hughie yelped, his lanky frame jolting upright. His wide blue eyes darted around the room like a spooked animal's. Soldier Boy's gravelly command to wake up had hit him harder than that time he'd accidentally walked into a mosh pit at a Foo Fighters concert.

Hughie's curly hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions as if it was trying to escape his head - kinda like how he wanted to escape this room. He gulped, adam's apple bobbing nervously. Being alone with Soldier Boy was about as comforting as being in a shark tank with a paper cut.

"Look, man," Hughie started, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty all over again. "The temp V's done, kaput, finito. I'm about as useful as a screen door on a submarine right now." He tried to play it cool, but his eyes kept frantically scanning the room for an exit. One door. Great. Might as well be a blank wall for all the good it did him.

The thought of making a run for it flashed through Hughie's mind, but he knew Soldier Boy would catch him faster than Homelander could laser a crowd of protestors. Instead, he opted for reason, hoping his words wouldn't stumble over each other like drunk frat boys.

"So, uh, how about we, like, talk about this? Maybe over some clothes? Because I gotta tell you, being buck naked is really not helping my concentration here." Hughie tried for a light chuckle, but it came out more like a nervous hiccup.

As he spoke, Hughie couldn't help but notice how Soldier Boy's eyes seemed to linger. It dawned on him that his state of undress might not be an oversight, and suddenly he felt more exposed than that time he'd accidentally walked into the women's locker room at the community pool.

"I mean, not that I'm not flattered by the, uh, attention," Hughie rambled on, his pale skin flushing a shade pinker, "but I'm thinking we could have a much more productive chat if I wasn't sitting here feeling like a plucked chicken, you know?"

[aerospectrum]

Seeing the guy in that vulnerable of a state... it was an easy capture. A solid whack to the back of the head with his armored forearm and he watched him crumple to the ground. One sad pile of naked... 'Sorry kid, you know what they say, 's a dog eat dog world out there and I'm the bigger one in this fight." He leans down with a groan and hooks his arms under Hughie's then stands to begin his trek back to the lab. Well, the remnants of a lab anyway. "Fuck... coulda used some reefer 'fore this." he mused to himself.

He neglected caution with each step, not giving a second thought to the elements Hughie is overly exposed to, every bump, bruise, and bang was just an addition to the soundtrack of his steady inhale and exhale while he lugged him deeper into the underbrush of the trail.

"You know, you're not too hard on the eyes... not that I care." He tossed the remark out flippantly, huffing in and jostling Hughie up in his arms for a slightly better hold. He came across a wet patch of thick sticky green leaves and mud and right before he's about to drag the man ass first through the nettles he hoists him up fully over his shoulder like a sack of overgrown potatoes. "Now that would've hurt, probably would've scratched your fuckin' nuts right off." he laughs to himself, trampling the poison oak leaves into oblivion.

The heavy creak of the metal door filled the otherwise silent warehouse and he wasted no more time than he needed getting Hughie attached to the monitors and sleeves on the table that he'd meticulously set aside and planned for days beforehand. "Alright kid, wakey wake." he open palm slaps him, the fabric of his red gloves leaving an almost rugburn like welt on Hughie's jaw. "Hey! Earth the Hubert or whatever the fuck your government name is, wake up!"

@aerospectrum

The throbbing ache at the back of Hughie's head was the last thing he felt before everything went black. He made the mistake of glancing back at that psycho Soldier Boy for just a split second after teleporting away from the military base. His clothes had been left behind in the jump, leaving him stark naked and vulnerable.

Hughie drifted in and out of awareness, the world spinning around him in a blur of muted colors and sounds. Rough hands gripped under his arms, dragging his bare feet uselessly through the dirt as he was hauled deeper into the shadowed trees by the imposing super.

Each jarring step sent a fresh jolt of agony through the lump swelling on his skull, nearly making him black out again. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth - he must have bitten his tongue hard, yet another insult added to his injuries.

Leaves and branches scratched at his exposed skin as they barreled recklessly through the underbrush, leaving a trail of stinging cuts across his nude form. The harsh sensations against his bare flesh made him achingly aware of his compromised state, stripped as naked as the day he was born by his volatile powers.

Hughie struggled to keep his wits, his feverish thoughts a jumbled mess. Where was that maniac taking him? What did Soldier Boy have planned? Fear clawed at his throat, but he was powerless, a prisoner once more. He could only hope the others escaped safely as the darkness closed in again, mercifully pulling him under into blessed oblivion.