"Shhhh!"

Someone, somewhere, shushed him. Doing so was dangerous, but Ryan knew how loud he had shouted. There was no way They hadn't heard it and there were going to be repercussions, without a doubt. The person was putting themselves in danger, issuing that warning, however, it was a wasted effort. The door was already opening.

The girl? The girls? It was a fucking dream?

What the hell was wrong with him? Who was she to be invading his head even when he slept?

He didn't have time to ruminate, as the door to his cage was opening. He backed away from the sound of someone entering, though he could see nothing, of course. There wasn't even the spark of the requisite taser.

"Don't fight. You know it won't do any good. Just come with me."

"Jarvis?" Ryan asked as quietly as the other's voice had been.

Why were they whispering?

"Just come on. I'll let you walk or can drag you, your choice."

So, someone did actually have consideration for their prisoners. That was surprising. Perhaps they were not all like Bradley. She enjoyed what she was doing, that was clear. Maybe not all her staff felt the same.

He nodded, then realised Jarvis wouldn't be able to see.

"Sorry," he said before also realising Jarvis wouldn't know what he was apologising for. Fuck. Get it together! "I'll..."

"Walk, yeah, I saw you nod. It's fine. Keep the talking to a minimum."

He... what? How?

"How did y...?"

"Quiet. Don't you listen?"

"Sor..." Ryan did finish the word. The sharp jab in his ribs cut off the last couple of letters.

"One more word." The whisper had an acid edge to it now, that ate away at the patience evident at the beginning of the conversation. "I'm giving you a chance. One. Got it?"

Ryan nodded again, and didn't apologise this time. He knew Jarvis could see him.

He felt a hand close over his wrist and pull. He followed the guidance and bum shuffled across the floor. At the entrance to the cage, his wrist was released. He heard the movement of Jarvis turning to exit and didn't stop to think. If he had, he might not have kicked out as hard as he could. He might not have aimed his feet at an upward angle, taking into account the extreme height.

If he'd had time to think, he would have probably have followed Jarvis out of the cell, across the room and through the door. He would have taken his punishment.

Ryan didn't think. He acted.

Pushing his heels out and pulling his toes back, he rammed his feet into what he hoped was the middle of Jarvis' back. It wasn't entirely a kick for pain or debilitation, but rather one for shock and for opportunity. The jolt of impact and grunt from the man in front of him told him he was on target. Instantly, he charged forward. He expected Jarvis to be sprawled just past the door, and he was correct. It meant he was prepared for the obstacle, so only stumbled a little.

Jarvis was down, but not out. As Ryan scrambled away, Jarvis kicked out himself, making contact with the fleeing man's ankle. It was only a glancing blow, so had little effect other than spurring the ankle's owner on.

Ryan was out of reach in a second, running into the eternal night. He heard pained movement behind him and couldn't resist a smile. His blow had been more effective than expected. He couldn't believe what he was doing, and his stomach was churning as wildly as his heart was beating. There was no way to know where he was going or if there'd be other cells in his way. It didn't matter. If there were, he'd go around them. He was running blindly, but he wasn't the only one. Jarvis was...

No!

Jarvis was following him exactly.

Jarvis could see him! He must have been wearing night vision equipment to allow him to navigate his way through the vast prison in the absolute dark. Ryan should have made a grab for them before setting off!

It was too late now. The predator was chasing the prey, with the former having a distinct advantage. Plus, even without the vision aid, Jarvis had knowledge of the room's layout. This was a foolish move, but it was done. There was no turning back.

Or was there?

The doors, if he could trust his dream, were all back the way they'd come. That fucking dream! Why was he contemplating believing something his mind had conjured? Something so warped? He shouldn't. It was stupid. It was also all he had.

He spun to his right, intending to run for a short distance before turning again, effectively doubling back. Where were the other cages? He'd managed a fair distance without encountering any, which he was thankful for, and was also surprised. Up until that point, he hadn't been lucky. Was that changing for the better?

Shit!

His luck, if it had been there at all, took a wrong turn in the darkness, separating itself from him. Its departure positioned him directly in line for one of the things he was hoping to avoid.

He hit the cell with enough force, thanks to his frantic speed, to knock him back. His cheek scraped against the edge of the roof, slicing it. He barely noticed. He wasn't winded, but there was a sharp pain in his chest from the collision.

Tough, though.

Ryan didn't have the luxury of being able to worry about himself. He could hear Jarvis gaining on him, so gripped the material of his top as if taking hold of the pain itself, and set off again.

When he stumbled back, he'd spun a little, skewing his bearings. A second right turn might still have brought him to the desired direction, but it could equally have aimed him at a blank wall. It was his only option, other than sprinting aimlessly, so he turned.

He was panting and his mouth was dry, and holding his clothing was doing nothing to slow his heart. Where the fuck was he going? Why on Earth did he think this was a good idea?

He hadn't thought, had he? He was running on instinct. On adrenaline. On stupidity.

His feet were slapping against the hard floor, a beacon to his location. Jarvis' were loud too, and Ryan hoped they drowned out his own. It seemed unlikely. He tried to make his footfalls lighter, moving to the balls of his feet and trying to pull them back up as soon as they hit. It made him be practically dancing across the room and he didn't care. If it helped, he'd pirouette.

To keep noise down further, he took shorter, faster breaths that were not enough for his exertion, The effects, burning lungs and failing strength, were increasing, making his speed lag. He'd be at the wall soon, wouldn't he? The row of doors? Fuck the fact it was a dream. It could still be real, the image coming from something seen and forgotten. One of those doors could be an exit. If so, he would damn well find it.

He could no longer hear Jarvis' chase. There were only his feet against the floor and his ragged breath. Dare he stop and listen? Try to get his bearing?

Not a chance.

He bent forward, scrabbling for energy from wherever it might come, and felt a surge of speed. It gave a brief, short-lived feeling of exhilaration.

Short-lived because the collision from another body knocked him completely aside.

He didn't have the chance to make a sound. Any remaining air was explosively expelled as both he and Jarvis – it had to be Jarvis – hit the floor and rolled. The other's weight on top of him was crushing when they landed and he felt something snap. A rib? He managed a meagre yelp of pain, the utterance of which preceded the grabbing of his face by a huge hand and the slamming of it down.

He was still conscious, but barely. The weight disappeared, leaving him feeling momentarily weightless, then those massive hands took his ankles and dragged him away.

"Fucking idiot. Last time I give a fucking chance. Idiot. Fucking idiot."

Jarvis was muttering to himself, rather than reprimanding his captive. Ryan wouldn't have been able to answer if the comments were directed at him. His head was spinning, and flashes of light were bursting in front of him, whether his eyes were open or closed.

"She'll fucking cycle you. Do it myself if I got chance. She lets me sometimes. No one deserves it like you. Fucking cycle you."

"N... N..." Ryan was trying to speak, but the lights were burning up his words. He swallowed to lubricate his mouth. "No!"

Jarvis stopped and turned. His foot lashed out, connecting with Ryan's side.

"Don't fucking speak to me. Ever."

"I... I mean, please. I couldn't help it. I had to!"

Jarvis didn't kick him that time. Instead, he continued pulling, yanking him hard enough for Ryan's knee to make a popping sound.

"Ah!" Ryan cried. "It was her fault!"

Jarvis stopped.

"Who?"

"The girl! I had to find her!"

"What girl? What are you on about? Fucking idiot."

Ryan heard the slide of a foot being pulled back in preparation for a kick.

"Jarvis!"

The booming voice from a speaker somewhere up high was unmistakable.

Jarvis didn't answer or follow through with his kick, but he was clearly listening.

"Bring him to me," said Bradley.