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The TV flicked on, the CRT whine and snap of static nearly giving the employee a heart attack. He caught himself with a hand on the wall, breathing hard as he swallowed the now-ingrained urge to bolt. Everything was difficult and terrible here, did the damn television simply turning on need to cause such a strong reaction? The Doctor’s eye wasn’t even on it, just sparking black and white static. He was alone, but still felt ridiculous at the overdramatic spook. The place was old and the electricity was wonky at best, so it was bound to happen sooner or later.He rubbed at his head and exhaled slowly. Dried sweat stuck to his fingers and he grimaced as he pulled back, rubbing his fingers off on his dusty pants.“Stupid TV,” he said to no one in particular, and made his way over to the device.The VCR’s display blinked 12:00 over and over, clearly having lost and regained power at some point. He didn’t know what time it was, and fat lot of help a useless piece of technology was. He knelt down and shoved a hand behind the device, clawing for the power cord he couldn’t see. When he managed to get ahold of a thick cable, he yanked the cord from the socket and the TV shut off with a harsh snap. He didn’t want to leave a TV available for the Doctor to speak to him through, not again. Harley Sawyer, according to every tape and the paperwork he found, but he didn’t want to humanize the Doctor if he was honest, and so he remained only the enigmatic Doctor. The voice was… oddly enticing, but when the employee was in a factory turned scientific excuse of butchery, it wasn’t something he wanted to explore. Not like the Doctor was nice anyway.The tapes scattered across the place felt purposeful, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. It was probably someone setting them out in some creepy puzzle, aiming to show him everything in slow, building pieces. It was a game, a cruel, malicious, unnecessary game, and yet here he was for an equally unknowable reason.But… why? Who would be screwed up enough to want to share the horrors of Playtime Co. with some random person? He wasn’t a random person, he corrected himself a moment later, he was a former employee. But even so, what did they get from it apart from some messed up sense of enjoyment at watching someone experience it all anew? Actually, that might be it. The Doctor didn’t seem the type to do things without reason, but the employee didn’t think it was him, not all of them. Some of them, sure. His deeper suspicion was the Prototype, though it left him more confused and with even fewer answers.He shrugged his shoulders and tried not to think about it, the weight of the GrabPack heavy even when spread over thick, padded straps. It had to be strongly built considering it was carrying his entire body when swinging on the thick cabling or gripping onto things with the oversized hands, but even so, it weighed at least twenty pounds and that was quite a lot to carry for a simple office worker. It was uncomfortable at best and painful at worst regardless of the attempts at gentling the bite of its weight. He was glad for it regardless. It allowed him to reach many things he never would have been able to without it and the ability to open doors that would have shocked his flesh was a major benefit, no matter how heavy the cursed thing was.He released the left handle, the blue hand going limp now that it was set free of his control. While powerful, they were not very dexterous, and he didn’t want to break the VCR for the miniscule crime of associating with the TV that spooked him. He jabbed a finger into the power button a bit too hard, hissing under his breath and waving his hand while the VCR powered down as though it would help relieve the ache. The tingling static of the screen above still lingered, slowly fading away as the capacitors greedily swallowed the power they’d been sharing moments before.The former employee tilted his neck back and forth with an aggravated groan. It wasn’t all that relieving unfortunately, and his neck protested the movement with sharp pains. He needed to sleep. It had been an ungodly amount of time since he’d slept. Back in Safe Haven, he believed, which, all things considered, was remarkably recently. It didn’t help him feel better.Maybe now would be alright. He stood in an office, a relatively nice one, and the chair was still there. It hadn’t been touched in the Hour of Joy as far as he could tell, no blood stains, no bodies. The TV in the corner of the room, tucked against an overflowing bookshelf, reflected the similarly blank screen of the large computer on the desk. The computer might work, or it might not, but he was sure there would be little to gain by searching through. Rather, nothing he would gain personally. There was likely plenty of information, absolute gobs of the company’s plans and goals and probably even more recordings of awful experiments and depressing deaths as long as he knew the password. No. There was nothing there for him.The floor, while carpeted in a fake attempt at warmth and friendliness, was covered in the cheap, office carpet made to be easily vacuumed rather than comfortable. He scuffed a foot over it to test its pile, sighing when there was none. He might as well sleep on top of wood for all the softness that would give. He emptied a bookshelf and shoved it until it covered the door, then another to brace that one even better. The desk felt heavier, and with an almighty heave, the door was thrice barricaded. Nothing would come in without breaking all of them down. If something did, there would be nothing he could do against it at that point. He resolutely turned his mind away from the terrifyingly real possibility that his death could be stalking the hallway outside, waiting for him to settle down before bursting through the door with a roar.He shuddered. Thankfully, Yarnaby was no longer a threat. He felt bad for it —him?— but when it was a case of kill or be killed, he was remarkably alright with killing. Did that make him a murderer? Perhaps. It meant he lived, and that was enough.He shrugged the GrabPack off of his shoulders, the sudden loss of weight so intensely relieving that he felt like he might fly into the ceiling, unmoored and uncontained by gravity. The flop into the soft chair, the rickety wheels complaining under his feet and the mesh backing notwithstanding, was accompanied by an immediate desire to conk out then and there. He probably could, but it wouldn’t be a good idea. It would make his aching shoulders feel all the worse and likely give him entirely new pains in different spots of his body too.He forced himself out of the sweet embrace of the seat cushion and instead dropped to the floor. He gathered a few of the leather bound books, glancing over the pretentious titles that had never been cracked open with little interest. While they were most definitely display books to show how worldly the previous office owner was, their new purpose was to be a substitute pillow. Hardly comfortable, but the leather binding was softer than the cardboard he’d used before.A few moments of arranging later and the employee laid on his back and closed his eyes. Not the worst place he’d slept here. The worst, not counting the multiple times he’d been knocked out or passed out or some other form of unwilling incapacitation, was in the Playcare. It had been comfortable when he stole some of the bedding and pillows from Home Sweet Home, and the place he’d napped had been as safe as he could make it, but the lingering fear of Catnap outside had made the most comfortable sleeping place into the worst sleep he’d had the entire time he’d been in the facility.He’d had nightmares, because of course he had, and while he’d wanted to blame them on rogue Red Smoke, it wasn’t that. It was the entire experience. Whatever God there was out there watching him —if there was one— took no pity on him. The more comfortable his sleeping quarters, the worse the dreams, and so, he’d accustomed himself to sleeping in awful places.It was like his body needed to know that it was still there, still in danger, or else it would create the danger in his mind and ruin all attempts at rest. The nightmares were constant, but they were controlled this way. Moving from the precarious stack of books in a fearful thrash would wake him immediately and wrest him from the cruel imaginings of his mind and into reality, which wasn’t really much better. It was, though, in his hands at that point, rather than the missing mercy of neurons and ever growing trauma.This was not a good way to sleep.He sat up and stretched, then rearranged the books into a more gradual slope before laying down once more. His eyes fluttered for a moment, a deep blue flicker in the corner of his vision catching his attention. He remained still, lowering his eyelids until there was the barest hint of sight. If he stayed calm and pretended ignorance, he might be studied rather than attacked.The TV glowed, the brightness lowered until it was nearly black, but the fuzzy black and white static crossing the screen in bands was still obvious. He must not have pulled the cord for the TV. It might have been the computer cord, they were of similar thickness, but the fact that the TV turned off the moment that the cord had left the socket was unnerving. A large eye covered the majority of the screen, its eye similarly lidded with a more curious tilt. How the employee knew it was curious, he didn’t know. But he did, and his stomach squirmed at the knowledge that he was being watched, even when the television was off.Silently, for once, too. There was no deep voiced gloating, no mocking, needling words. Nothing. Just quiet contemplation. The employee was fairly certain that most TVs weren’t also cameras, but here? Maybe they were. The technology was impressive and the men and women who worked here were geniuses. It could be a bomb for all the employee knew.His eyes closed fully, the hands over his belly loosening their tension. He didn’t want to sleep when he knew the Doctor was watching. He had a feeling that he was, however, oddly safe. Not that the Doctor wouldn’t delight in tearing him to pieces, no, that would be ridiculous. The Doctor would and be absolutely gleeful about it. It was because the Doctor was simply observing him. If he wanted to kill the employee, he knew where he was and it would merely be a matter of choosing the method. He did seem to enjoy seeing the employee in fear, and it would be a rather odd choice if he were to suddenly decide that a quiet death in a hidden office was enough to tickle his fancy.The employee turned away from the TV, the prickling, heavy gaze on his gaze as tangible as any hands on his side. Was he being petty by hiding his face to deny the Doctor the right to see his nightmares play over his expression? Maybe, but he had plausible deniability. He was “asleep,” of course. Sleep was not so easily evaded, its claws much more fierce than Yarnaby’s, and though he struggled against it, he was tugged underneath its hold unwillingly quickly.The Doctor watched the employee slumber for a while yet, his eye unchanging as the employee flipped back around in his restless motions. When the employee snuffled and curled up tighter, he turned the television off and pulled his consciousness back. There was still time for the employee to prove worth his attention. So far, getting rid of 1166 had been rather interesting. Perhaps there would be more to come.
The employee wasn’t sure what to expect anymore. A trap that nearly killed Doey? Sure. The Doctor didn’t like Doey, that made sense. A trap of similar freezing gas locking down one of his GrabPack hands and nearly killing him until he cut it off? Why not? Murder was a given, he was lucky it hadn’t taken yet. He got revenge by destroying some organs —lungs, probably, based on the symmetry and ovular shape— in a fancy tube along the wall, hoping they were the Doctor’s.The conversation that made him doubt Poppy though, that was more surprising. He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her— well, no, he could throw her pretty far, she was rather small. Might be better to say he didn’t trust her as far as he could throw Doey, and that wasn’t anywhere. He never did trust her, yet she seemed to be guiding him decently from what he knew. As a toy who was there during the Hour, and clearly traumatized from becoming a toy herself, she was understandably easy to pity. Her intelligence made her dangerous, and while he didn’t know that Poppy had known about the Hour before it happened, he couldn’t say that it was news that changed his entire outlook on life. He had been suspicious from the start.She was tiny, why hadn’t she been eaten already? Even the mini Huggies could have grabbed her and devoured her. There was something about her that kept her safe over and over, and if it was some inside knowledge, then who was the employee to call the Doctor a liar? Maybe she worked with the Prototype, he didn’t know. She kept Kissy around, and while they had kept the employee alive, he couldn’t speak much to the safety of his life. She never explicitly said so, but his life did seem rather convenient, and he had a feeling that if he were to truly and firmly deny her continued requests, he might find out that they were not requests at all.Maybe a human was needed, an alive one, and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t like toys could use a palm scanner. After that, well, that was up to fate, and so far, fate had not been kind.Red Smoke that he had been glad to leave behind made a reappearance along with a new gas mask conveniently left on a dead employee. He would have said a small prayer, maybe something like “I hope you’re at peace” or something, but the guy likely didn’t deserve it, so he didn’t. He wiped the gas mask off as much as he could, unnerved when there was no real sign of rot on the rubber, and put it on. Even if it had been weirdly slimy with decay, he would have worn it anyway. He wanted to live more than he wanted to avoid disgust.More puzzles by the Doctor, more defeats of pointless traps. Was the Doctor testing him? It would make sense. The scientists here tested kids, what was to say that the Doctor wasn’t looking for someone to follow his demands and be intelligent enough to accomplish them properly? The employee been proud of his quick-wittedness his entire life, and it was really coming in clutch at the factory, darting through hallways that never ended with only emergency use air filters and making it back time and time again. It made a weirdly tight lump in his chest at the idea that he was proving himself worthy to the Doctor, one that he tried very, very hard not to acknowledge.The fact that the Doctor kept watching him every time he slept made it all the harder to ignore. He was interested in the employee beyond a playtoy. There were plenty of those around and he still chose the employee. Maybe it was because he was human. Maybe it was because he came back. Maybe… maybe he was just plain special.It didn’t stop him from freezing and destroying the Doctor’s organs, however. He still needed to move forward and right now, the Doctor was an obstacle that he needed to overcome. The liver was the victim this time, and for once, he was the one in control. He had no more answers now than he did before, and it was getting old quick. He wanted the Doctor’s attention focused on him and him alone.The confrontation with the massive lamb —Baba Chops, his mind helpfully supplied— was quickly dealt with. Another test by the Doctor, another win in the employee’s book. The choice at the end, however, to save or kill the tiny Nightmare Critter, had been pointlessly cruel. The employee had a fondness for Simon Smoke in particular, a bond of shared secrets whispered into scaled fur when he felt particularly down at work, and he refused to kill him. It didn’t matter if the critter wouldn’t do the same, nor that it wasn’t the same Simon he had kept for himself in his locker, but it still felt wrong. It was a test, and the employee was not a man to give in simply because someone told him to. Mostly.The employee searched high and low for another method, ignoring the Doctor’s continuous voice, babbling on and on about choices and morals and ethics. He did that a lot, the employee noticed. Part of him wondered if it was because he had nobody else to talk to. If they were not in a situation like this, he might have offered to be a listener. It hadn’t mattered, because before the Doctor made good on his promise to allow the critters beating on the windows in, he’d spied an awfully convenient handle up on the ceiling through a broken hole.When he hoisted himself up, he was rather amused at the Doctor’s huffy response. For a man who planned thoroughly and almost certainly left the handle to be part of the test, it was oddly cute to hear the petulant tone of a man who lost a bet, if only with himself. The employee made a note to ask Poppy and Doey about the experiment, knowing they would likely proclaim that they’d never hurt anyone else. Poppy’s lies and Doey’s absolutely brutal takedown of Pianosaurus meant that he wouldn’t really believe them though. Actually, maybe he wouldn’t ask.Onwards, always onwards. This time, he had a greater understanding of where he was going, and his determination firmed. The Doctor was next on his list, and he was embarrassingly interested in seeing what the Doctor looked like. He wasn’t human —not anymore— but the employee wasn’t all too bothered by that. Regardless of the reception, the Doctor was fascinating and he was sure that whatever body he had been placed into had been more carefully chosen than a mere toy. At least, he hoped so.
The rows and rows of televisions lining the hallway turning on around him didn’t make him jump this time, though he did slow his walk. Boldness empowered him to walk over to a few that tilted at an odd angle. They were attached to some arms screwed firmly into the wall, and some of them looked less than sturdy. He stared at the black, inky darkness of the screen, the lack of the Doctor’s eye almost disturbing. He was close. He had to be, otherwise why would he turn off such a perfect chance to unnerve the employee? The door at the end of the hall was likely to lead to the Doctor himself.The employee sighed. He couldn’t resist pushing a few of the televisions back until they straightened, frowning when they slumped down once out of his hold. He pushed one back up, the weight of the Doctor’s eye in his hand warming him inside. He slid a hand along the plastic exterior, knowing that he was making a fool of himself, caressing a box of electronics controlled by a man determined to… kill him? He still wasn’t sure about that part. If the Doctor wanted him dead and he was as smart as he seemed, he would have found a better way. He could have set off that cryotrap at the employee, not Doey, and that would have been the end of his fleshy body.He heaved the TV back a little further this time, bracing it with a shoulder as he shoved a hand back into the mess of wires and metal arms. Normally, TV arms were harder to adjust, but since there was a whole wall of them, the allen keys modifying the tension were epoxied into place to make it easier for future adjustments. The budget on the keys alone must have been ridiculous, but the employee was glad for it. Why the factory needed a weird hallway of TVs was beyond him, but there were plenty of weird things in this place. He accepted it as a quirk of the company.Though, he mused, it could just as well have been the Doctor doing it. If this led to the Doctor’s lair, then it made sense he’d want as many eyes on the visitor as possible. In that case, why glue the keys in place? He supposed that the toys would not be very good at putting such tiny wrenches into even smaller holes, but why wouldn’t the Doctor do it himself? Too many questions with, if he were honest with himself, entirely unimportant answers.He twisted the key and felt the hefty weight ease slightly. Another twist and it rose even further, and a few minute adjustments later, it was sitting nicely along the wall once more. There were others, but he wasn’t going to do that for all of them. He couldn’t even say why this one had caught his attention to begin with. He was ridiculous, but so was everything else in this place. He might as well allow himself a few amusements here and there, pointless though they were. He’d probably go mad otherwise.He stepped back, hands on his hips with a small smile. It was more even than the rest, cleanly balanced and parallel with the ground. It was about eye level for him, and if the Doctor were to turn it on, they would make eye contact. As much as they could, at least. He tapped the side of it with satisfaction, the ingrained urge to tap a malfunctioning TV into functioning once more—percussive maintenance, if he wanted to be fancy about wording— but was disappointed when he heard the click of a different device turning on.“What are you doing?” the Doctor snapped. “What purpose do you have in repairing one when there are dozens more in the hallway alone? It will not grant you any favor, nor reprieve of my control.”The employee shrugged as he turned around to face the Doctor’s eye. He didn’t really know, but he did certainly like hearing the Doctor speak.The eye on the screen narrowed. “You are an interesting specimen. From squirming little germ into a blind scurrying rodent to a man standing before a god, and yet here you still remain. You are as foolish now as you were from the beginning. I am starting to believe you have a predilection towards self-destructive tendencies.”The employee raised an eyebrow. He waved at the walls of screens with an all-encompassing gesture to the factory as a whole. He could speak (technically), he even wanted to, but the fear of making sound for the past who knows how long had stopped up his throat and left him mute.The Doctor’s eye blinked thoughtfully before hooding, turning the piercing gaze into something oddly soft. “You've done well, for what little capability you have.”A flush flared across the employee’s cheeks as surely as a fever and he couldn’t keep meeting that gaze. Praise? Now? Backhanded, sure, but even so, the change from mocking into mocking and positive was not what he expected. He especially didn’t want it from the Doctor.The Doctor made a sound of surprise that faded into a hum of deeper understanding. The employee wasn’t sure what was being understood, but icy panic began to crawl its way through his veins. He rushed towards the door with a single-minded determination to avoid any of whatever this was.“Oh, yes,” the Doctor continued, his crackly voice smug. “Please, continue running. I much prefer prey that writhes in the vain hope for salvation than one that falls to its side in pathetic sobs for mercy. You know as well as I do that there is nothing that can save you from me. You came here for one reason, and you don’t even know it.”The employee’s hands were damp with sweat, slamming the button for the GrabPack to shove the doors open. He expected them to be locked and tumbled inside only to be caught by a hulking amalgamation of metal and wires with a television head, the empty screen somehow more terrifying than the Doctor’s usually far too intense gaze.He caught only glimpses of the room beyond, enormous structures of metal with screens surrounding an orb held up by wires and steel with a small computer sitting beneath. It looked oddly innocent compared to the red glow of the Doctor’s brain, the pink flesh visible through the glowing light. The employee’s goal was right there, all he needed to do was turn the thing off!The Doctor’s grip on him only tightened and his fingers dug into the employee’s side hard enough to ache. A chuckle echoed in the room from the various televisions’ speakers. “The twists and turns of this maze were laid for your trembling feet to walk, nipped at the heels by each of my experiments until you proved yourself worthy. You are so close, and still so far. There is no safety to be found here. Not the air you breathe. Not that stolen GrabPack. Not your supposed friends at Safe Haven. Not even the ground beneath your feet.”A trapdoor opened beneath the employee, a yawning chasm of emptiness below that turned the burgeoning curiosity into terror. He struggled against the robot’s hold, pushing and kicking and mashing the GrabPack buttons to slap it, but nothing worked. The Doctor laughed at the employee’s failures, and let go.The employee spun in the air, trying to at least land on his arms or the GrabPack or something to cushion the fall, but it wasn’t as far as it had seemed. He wheezed as he slammed onto the ground, the air in his lungs gone in the heavy thwack of his (and the GrabPack’s) weight onto concrete. The Doctor’s robot swam in his unsteady vision, a sarcastic wave of his fingers silhouetted against the light above, and the door slammed closed.The darkness felt tangible. The glimmering outlines of buttons and crawling lines of text on a monitor shattered it into panes; a threat, not a conclusion. He inhaled after what felt like eternity, his lungs rushing to inflate with oxygen until he felt so full that he would suffocate on it before it equalized. His vision cleared and he pushed himself up to one arm, using the hand of the GrabPack as support until he was able to stand.The Doctor could have tossed him anywhere, could have simply punched a hole through his stomach and watched him bleed out. He could have done a number of things to the employee that would have left him a twitching pile of viscera on the ground, and yet all he did was toss him down into this gated pit. The employee rubbed at his face with a groan. Another test. Of course.He stood, dusting himself off as best he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to now. He pressed a panel on the right arm of the GrabPack and it opened to reveal the tiny flashlight within. He didn’t know if it needed batteries, so he’d been rather sparing with using it, but in the darkness down here, he needed it.He inched out towards a gate, staring in mute dread at the rows and rows of computer servers turning the floorplan into labyrinth. More than that, though, were the Doctor robots lining the towers like guards. Maybe they were, because as the employee stepped out, the screen on one flickered on. Instead of the blue stare he’d come to expect, however, it was a still image of a yellow eye. A spotlight emanated from it in a neat cone, lighting up the racks of computer equipment across from it, and the employee understood it immediately as a warning.There were so many bodies here that the Doctor could control, but he couldn’t control all of them. He’d need to flick between them, searching for the employee rather than allowing the employee to come to him. It was a reversal. A test, but also a gift, allowing him to be the predator surrounded by innumerable, murderous, dangerous prey until he proved himself the victor over dozens of the Doctor’s eyes.He adjusted the GrabPack on his shoulders, cracked his neck, and darted out.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The employee stood before the orb once more, each gate open, each computer powered up, and everything ready for him to take that final step. All he needed to do was pluck out the keycard that would grant him access to the Doctor’s hidden Omni-Hand.Part of him didn’t want to.The Doctor was the only one to treat him as a person and not as someone to do a fetch quest. Gather this keycard, put down mining charges, move that pole, open the door after you get all the broken handles, it was exhausting. Not just exhausting, but annoying. It made sense, he didn’t know what was going on and someone else did, so naturally he would follow along. But the Doctor was right about certain things. Poppy was hiding information from him, Doey was fighting with himself whenever they spoke, and maybe they would have killed the Simon critter to save their own hides without searching for another way.“I'll bury myself so far down that no one will ever find me! Not you. Not the Prototype. Not anyone!” the Doctor snarled in his ears, the reverberations of that deep, thunderous voice shaking the TVs haloing his tank.The Doctor simply wanted to continue his work, grisly as it was, in as much peace as this messed up place could have. Maybe he didn’t even want anyone else around. The toys were plentiful and already hurting. It wouldn’t be harming anyone else if he were to continue his planning here, deep into the bowels of the earth with broken bodies he could make into new creations. He just wanted to be seen for the genius he was.“It was going to be mine. It was ALL going to be MINE! MY discovery! MY recognition! I was the one who paved the golden path!” the Doctor roared.The robots surrounding the tank jerked as he turned them on, his consciousness splitting to activate all of them and stomp their way towards the employee. He held up his hands in a placating motion, even releasing the GrabPack hands in a show of not-quite-submission but desire to communicate.Shockingly, even as the robots closed in, they didn’t raise a hand to strike, though they did box him in place. He was surrounded by tall creations of steel and electronics made by a man who was undeniably more intelligent than he, and still the Doctor did not move for the final attack.He was silent too, the oppressive emptiness all the heavier in its rarity. The employee didn’t agree with what the Doctor had done, not in the least. The Doctor was still a narcissist, probably a genuine sociopath, but he wasn’t wrong. He had been a significant part of the company’s progress and was shoved into an electronic prison for daring to think too far beyond his coworkers. He’d killed plenty of people, people who would never, ever be able to come back, even as toys, but was it really better to put him into a mechanical hell? It was so he could continue to provide his intelligence, but it left him living —as much as his consciousness being forced into a glorified fish tank could be called living— under the thumb of his former coworkers. No. It was revenge.How could he possibly communicate that though? The employee opened his mouth, coughing once and noting the twitch forward of the robots in a quiet promise of violence. It didn’t matter, because when he went to try and speak, all he managed was a pathetic croak. He didn’t know exactly what he’d say, either. The Doctor was right. They were jealous of him. They needed his genius and that was why they didn’t kill him. That was the reason why they cut him apart to put him into that tank in a place he was at their mercy to keep living. He didn’t deserve it.Granted, that wasn’t to say he deserved to keep living either, he did kill a lot of people. A lot of children specifically, people who couldn’t defend themselves or possibly warrant the pain they went through. And yet, to be punished by being stuffed into electronics, unable to move or complete his work without someone who just couldn’t keep up with his mind… The employee understood the Doctor’s fury. He’d been placed into Hell. One of his own making, but Hell nonetheless. The employee thought, for just a moment, that if he were the Doctor and put into a computer, he might have gone mad too. In the most miniscule way possible, he understood the Doctor’s rage.He tried to speak again, begging his body to get with the program and let him express his feelings. Once again, there was nothing that escaped, and he sighed. Even when the Doctor was giving him space to talk, his body refused to get the memo and free the vocal cords. He couldn’t express his sympathies verbally. Maybe he could try a different way.He placed a hand on the robot’s arm as if comforting a friend. The robot’s other hand mimicked his, grabbing his free arm in a far, far more threatening way. This wasn’t working well, but as the employee had been for this entire time, in for a penny, in for a pound.The employee’s hand slid up along the piston, careful to avoid being in a position to be pinched if it were to close, and rested over a cable. He closed his fingers around it thoughtlessly, the texture pleasing to the touch. It was ribbed slightly, the cord thick and humming with power. When the light of one of the robots suddenly bathed him in yellow, he jumped and pulled on it accidentally.There was no intervening time between that thoughtless startle and being pinned against a wall by multiple sets of hands. A pair over his legs to keep him from running, others over his arms to prevent him from grabbing the handles of the GrabPack again, one over his throat but still, still not squeezing. His back was forced to arch over the GrabPack, the tank hanging from it pushing against his spine painfully.His breath was restricted from the rough hold and when he swallowed, he felt the metal over his Adam’s apple tighten ever so slightly in silent threat to his life. A threat he was starting to think wasn’t going to be followed through.“You fool,” the Doctor hissed. “Did you think it would be so easy to incapacitate me? A quick tug on a cable and the body would fall apart in your grip? Do you not recall there are dozens more mere steps away ready to tear you limb from limb just to hear you SCREAM?” His voice cut into static from the ferocity of his howl, the clutch around the employee’s throat dangerously close to permanent damage.The employee shook his head furiously, though it was more like pathetic wriggling. He opened his mouth in a last ditch effort to speak again, but it was impossible. It was clamped shut and no matter how he struggled, silence was entrenched in him elevenfold now that the Doctor had stolen the words from the air once more.“Or… is there something else in your pathetic mind that begs for my attention?” That curiosity the Doctor displayed earlier was back in full force. The eye on the display blinked and he clenched the robotic fingers tighter until the employee was denied breath. “Is that what you desire? The gaze of a stronger man on one so very willing to submit? To obey orders given to you by your betters?”The employee’s face blushed, humiliation burning through his body. No, it couldn’t be that. Could it? The Doctor was alluring, the very creepy but somehow flattering observation of him as he slept time and time again soothing the nightmares into mere kitten claws rather than the vicious cruelty of a lion’s bite. How could he say anything but that the Doctor’s voice had changed everything? He was truly something else if a voice had dug into him better than Yarnaby’s attempt at hunting him down and ruined his morals, if only when the Doctor was speaking. It was not made any easier when his vision began to swim and darkness play with the corners of his vision.“You've done so well to get to me,” the Doctor purred, the hand on his throat loosening and giving the employee the gift of air.He gasped, eyes fluttering, and he couldn’t handle it, couldn’t meet that bright gaze anymore with his back bowing from relief in mockery of something far, far more frightening to contemplate. He looked away. He nearly closed his eyes, but he stopped himself at the last second. The Doctor might realize what was going through his mind and he couldn’t allow that. He squirmed nonetheless, trying to get out of the Doctor’s hold impotently and knowing he was not going to be able to free himself. He was at the Doctor’s mercy, if there was any to be found. Probably not. He wouldn’t like it all that much if there was any; the Doctor was better as he was, not as he should be.“You've managed precious little in your worthless excuse of a life, so be proud that you made your way to where you belong; on your knees in front of me, holding out your hands for my wires to bind them,” the Doctor crooned.The employee’s head whipped around with wide eyes. That wasn’t what he meant! He didn’t think that, he hadn’t planned that at all! Correction, he had thought it in the deeper corners of his mind, mostly at night when the nightmares ceased and his dreams turned inwards, but the Doctor wasn’t supposed to know that!One of the metal hands moved to hold his wrists together and above his head. “Oh, yes. I see now what you crave. You poke and you prod until you get the reaction you want, until someone takes the reins and forces you to kneel.”The Doctor’s many hands released the employee and he nearly fell in a dead drop that could well have broken his kneecaps. He barely caught himself on one of their arms, glad for their solidity, but managed to keep standing. The Doctor found it amusing, a quiet chuckle bouncing around the employee’s head and destroying all of his thought process.“You are no threat to me. Not really.” The Doctor’s hand caressed the employee’s cheek until he cradled his head, a thumb brushing over his lips.The employee flinched instinctively, but didn’t try to escape. At this point, there wasn’t anywhere to really get away from the Doctor anyway. Like it or not, he had gotten himself into a situation he couldn’t run from. He could either melt into a terrified mess or face his fears and admit that this wasn’t one of the situations he’d dealt with before but sort of, kind of, wanted. He could try to run, of course, and if he were quick, he might even get away. He’d never be able to come back and deal with the Doctor afterwards, so if he wanted to follow Poppy’s plan, he needed to stay and take responsibility for the fact that he’d allowed himself to be caught because the Doctor was impossible to resist.“I wonder when it changed,” the Doctor mused. “Was it once you realized I was watching you sleep? Or perhaps it was later, when I forced you to think beyond your means and you found yourself rising to the occasion as a phoenix of your previous inadequacy. You have yet to perish at my hand, stifling the efforts at every twist and turn of my will. And still here you are, before me regardless in hopes of my undivided attention. And here it is, entirely focused on you.”The Doctor pushed lightly on the employee’s shoulders. He resisted for a moment, not wanting to be in an even more precarious position. When a second screen turned on and bathed him in another yellow glow, he folded obediently. The ground wasn’t comfortable, but he’d dealt with far worse, probably would in the future too. His eyes instinctively looked to the robot in search of hips and what might be attached to the front, but there was nothing. Of course there would be nothing, it was a body made to move and act, not for something so base as carnal desire, so why was he struggling with disappointment?The Doctor laughed, a cruel sound. “I see the truth in your eyes. You can’t hide your thoughts from me, little beast. It is true, there is nothing there that could fill you as you so desperately crave. I have no mouth with which to bite and mark you as the beast you are. You know as well as I, however, that there is plenty I can provide should you merely… beg.”The employee’s hands clenched in his lap and he ducked his head, refusing to look up for the Doctor’s far too sharp stare. It wasn’t like the Doctor was wrong, and that was worse than anything else. The Doctor had paid way, way too much attention to him. No matter how secret the corners he’d found, no matter what bathroom he’d hid in for hidden moments of peace and embarrassing, desperate relief from the Doctor’s unrelenting attention, the Doctor knew what happened and he was left bare. At this point, the Doctor may as well tear him open. Maybe he’d have a weird tumor, something, anything that the Doctor didn’t already know.A foot slipped between his thighs, the oddly shaped limb pointedly a couple of inches away from his hips. Was it some sort of offering for…? He shifted uncomfortably.“Look at me,” the Doctor commanded.The employee thought about resisting for a split second, which was a split second too long, because the Doctor’s hand grasped his chin and tilted it upwards. The pressure was inexorable, irresistible without harming himself in the efforts, and he obeyed as he had the entire time he was here. He followed Poppy’s instructions and Doey’s requests and now, he was doing as the Doctor desired. He supposed he was helpless to do anything other than obey when presented with someone with more willpower than he. The employee blinked at the bright light shining in his eyes, the piercing yellow mildly painful.“Ah, too bright?” the Doctor asked with faux concern. When the employee nodded as much as he could in hopes that it would soften, the Doctor huffed in amusement. “Very well then. You are behaving, little beast.”The Doctor’s blocky yellow eye was replaced with the more familiar, not quite photorealistic shape cradled in blue and black. It held more emotion, the gaze focused on the employee all the clearer. Maybe he should have dealt with the yellow instead, it was far less personal and more abstract. He swallowed. What now?“Indeed, what now?” the Doctor echoed, and the employee tensed nervously. Had he somehow spoken aloud? “No, no. You are as silent as ever. I told you before; there is nothing you can hide from me. You are far too simple to have an original thought in that little head of yours.”Little, little, why did the Doctor keep saying “little?” Sure, he was smaller than the Doctor, but that was cheating. The Doctor was able to change his height into whatever he wanted, it wasn’t a fair comparison. That being said, however, the hand moving to hold his head was so large that it felt absurd, and he had to shift his weight from one knee to the other in hopes of hiding a growing problem.“I must merely hold you and already you lean forward for more. I should have done this from the beginning. Had I offered you a chance to indulge your base instincts when you were an employee, perhaps you would have been useful in my work. As it is, this will have to suffice. Let’s test something new, shall we?” the Doctor said, and tugged the employee’s head forward towards that blank, empty plating of his hips. “Perhaps there is something to be gained from this.”The employee’s brows furrowed, confusion only increasing with proximity. The Doctor was too tall and he had to kneel awkwardly to make it possible for the employee’s face to reach the Doctor’s groin. There was nothing there and the Doctor almost certainly didn’t feel anything. Was it some sort of power play? If it was, then so be it. The employee was not in a position to argue, nor, in this particular situation, did he want to. The Doctor’s hand remained on the back of his head when he was pressed close enough for his nose to rub against the metal. There was no further tugging and when the employee adjusted himself, hands on the Doctor’s thighs and carefully away from any potential pinch points, he was given enough leeway to do so.He swallowed heavily, a warm nervousness on his skin heating the metal. It smelt of oil, a bit of rust, and a lot more of dust. He nuzzled into the blank expanse with two goals; one, remove the dust, and two, see if there was a reaction. Unfortunately, while it was a positive for the dust removal, it was a negative for reaction. It made him want to force one out of the Doctor.Another shift, this time forward to lessen the awkward angle he was forced into, and he parted his lips to lap along the metal. It was like licking pennies and his nose wrinkled. When the foot between his thighs stepped a little closer in approval, just enough for the solidity of the metal to press against the burgeoning bulge in his pants, his next lick turned into a gasped pant.The Doctor’s laugh moved with one of the robots behind the employee, no longer using the array of speakers along the wall. It was more intimate, more personal that way, and the employee shivered. More hands grasped his hips as the robot behind him lowered to the floor, adjusting until he was half in that one’s lap. His thighs spread around the thin metal and there was no pretense of hiding himself now.The robot behind him stilled but the light of the Doctor’s eye did not. “Remove the GrabPack.”The employee’s hands darted down to hold onto the handles, shaking his head and begging with his eyes to be allowed that one tentative safety measure. It wouldn’t work if he were truly in danger, but it was soothing and relieving, even though it also hurt his back.The Doctor’s eye narrowed and he went to speak again only to be interrupted when the employee groaned against his chassis and ground against the shin between his thighs. He harrumphed. “I know what you are doing, little beast, attempting to distract me into allowing you to keep your foolish device. It will not save you should you try to use it in some idiotic attempt at escape.”The employee shrugged one shoulder and raised his hands to grasp onto the robot’s hips. It was a shallow, messy mockery of giving head, his saliva wet on the metal and shining in the light of the Doctor’s gaze. The Doctor sighed, running his hand over the employee’s shoulders in a motion that, were it anyone else, would be fond.“Very well.” The Doctor grasped the shoulder straps of the GrabPack and tugged up to force the employee to scoot closer. “If you want to keep that pointless, inefficient waste of plastic and metal upon your back, then you may remain the beast of burden that you are. Continue.”The employee, relief making the weight of the GrabPack feel light for once, did as he was bid. He nuzzled into the metal before him, turning his head to trace along the shape. When the Doctor clearly didn’t feel anything through the metal, he turned his attention away from technique and into display. Each lick was heavily telegraphed, his head emphasizing the movement aggressively. He kept his mouth open, glad that the metal edges were neatly connected and smooth. He would have continued if it was sharp, but it wouldn’t be nearly as arousing when his tongue bled. To him, at least, who knew about the Doctor.He grasped onto the thigh tighter, other sliding upwards along the metal he had been lavishing attention upon and tracing the shape with his fingers as if stroking a thick warmth against his lips. The Doctor’s eye never wavered, half-lidded and focused even as he remained silent. Was the action enough for him? Did he even get anything out of it? It was disappointing to get no reaction and the employee was flagging a little. Having absolutely nothing to go off of was killing his arousal.Questing fingers reached higher, keeping his eye on the Doctor’s screen in hopes that he would at least get a warning if he pissed the Doctor off, and curled his fingers around the spine. His fingers brushed over the cords hanging free before it and the Doctor jolted in his grasp. The employee released him immediately, hands open and palms out in apology.A second body’s hand shoved the employee back into place, the hand over the cabling and closing his fingers around it. “Do that again. The results must be replicable if the experiment is to be completed properly.” His voice was hoarse and deep, the tinny speakers of the television struggling to keep the syllables clear.The employee shivered nervously. The hand that had pushed him back into place moved under his shirt and played with the button on his pants, the carrot rather than the stick. He really, really did not want to know what the stick would be.He moved slowly, fingers loose and afraid of tugging the cords free if he were to pull too hard. The Doctor made an approving sound and the employee relaxed slightly. Alright, the Doctor liked that, he could do that. He let go but didn’t pull back, tracing around the cords with a single finger. The robot squeaked as the Doctor kept it from moving, the hydraulic piston of his calf shuddering.The employee’s arousal surged anew. Now that he knew what to do, this would be much better. He hated partners that never responded, and he was getting such delicious reactions now that he found what the Doctor enjoyed. The Doctor had to hold himself in check far more than any fleshly man might, and honestly, it felt a little powerful to be doing this to the Doctor in a weird way. Sure, the Doctor could end this easily and call it a wash, toss the employee aside or kill him, but he wasn’t. He was careful not to crush the employee’s head too hard into his hips, to keep the pistons on his body from springing too hard and harming the employee. He was controlling himself all to better experience what the employee could give.Was this the first time the Doctor had felt arousal in his new robotic body? A selfish, ridiculous part of the employee hoped so.He pulled back a touch, making sure the Doctor’s eye was firmly on him. He tapped his mouth, then the thinner wires of the Doctor’s inner thigh, a warning as much as an offer. He didn’t want the Doctor to accidentally (hopefully it would be accidentally) pinch him by moving when he was so close to delicate machinery.The Doctor’s eye narrowed, searching over the employee in search of something, maybe threat. They were probably important cords, the majority of the wires on the thighs in a protective cocoon of metal, and likely connected his lower half to the upper. If they were harmed, it was a genuine danger that the robot could lose its balance.The Doctor’s eye rose in a half roll. “You may,” he said as if granting a great concession.The employee took no further time and dove in. The cable tasted like plastic and had grooves running parallel along the length, the rubbery texture tempting him to bite. He held down the urge, pressing kiss after kiss to the parts that he could reach. A third robot had to stand behind the one he was currently attending to, and a smug part of the employee realized that it was for balance. When it knelt down, his attitude was swiftly corrected, because that might be so, but the screen being so close also meant that he had a perfect, uninhibited view of the employee’s ministrations upon the robot he was currently servicing.He didn’t know where to look. He didn’t want to meet the Doctor’s eye, not when it was unfairly near him, and while he could look at the bare groin of the robot before him, it wasn’t exactly doing anything for him in return. He faltered, nerves locking up his muscles. The Doctor was frighteningly close.The Doctor harrumphed again, the robot he was giving attention to reaching down and tugging the employee up more and more until he was standing. He knew their height difference was great, but only now that he was so up close and personal to the robot did he realize that his face was level with the robot’s groin. How was he meant to do anything this way?His answer was provided with a pair of hands hoisting him up into the air, more hands balancing his weight until he was all but forced to cling to the robot. It wasn’t nice and the chassis was hot, but he had remarkably little say and his desire only grew with the realization of how outclassed he was in all ways. Physically, he couldn’t compete with the robot’s strength or the multitude ready to step in if one were to fail. Mentally, he was simply not as intelligent as the Doctor and did not have the years of planning and home base to understand on a deep level. Emotionally… he might have that, actually. The Doctor wasn’t particularly stable.The groin protrusion made for an awful seat to hold his weight, but another body behind him assisted with balance. The one he was wrapped around used its hands to hold his bottom and keep him upright. The GrabPack was uncomfortable on his back and prevented the second robot from holding him close, though from how hot the one he was currently cuddled into was, it might be a good thing. The ragged cloth hanging over the robot like a tattered cloak was easily pushed aside by the hands not holding his weight and revealed a neck of cables and wires that led directly into the television head. That must be what the Doctor wanted his mouth on.A moment later, it was quite clear that this guess was true, for the Doctor was quick to force his head into the nest of wiring. He was less worried now that the cables were wider. Thicker wires, less easily harmed, and far less dangerously fragile. It was perfect.He pressed a kiss to one, gasping as the button on his pants was popped and the zipper tab slowly lowered. He felt every tick of teeth parting, his own wide as he panted pathetically into the Doctor’s hold. His fingers trembled on the Doctor’s shoulders and bunched up the fabric. The teeth made a rhythm that matched his jerking hips and silently he begged the Doctor for more, curling into the robot’s hold and trembling. The moment that the zipper was fully undone, the Doctor ceased.“I recommend that you continue, little beast, or else I will conclude that this experiment has run its course,” the Doctor said.The employee shook his head quickly. He wasn’t done! Not at all! He took a deep breath, choking anew when a single finger stroked along his constrained desire. Wires, he needed to focus on the wires. He raised up to better bury his head into the shadow of the Doctor’s hood, a hand on the wires he didn’t hold in his lips and stroking them as he might himself. The Doctor matched his pace over his straining arousal, the underwear doing the best it could to hold back the simmering need.The employee sped up, getting messy with the wires and abandoning caution to the wind. He licked along the length of the cabling that he could reach from the base of the neck to the ports where it entered the head. The taste of lubricating oils made him grimace, but when the disgust was soothed away by a firmer touch over his need, he found he cared remarkably little for something as simple a little oil and dust.He ground against the Doctor’s hand, the robot in his grip twitching with every nuzzle and kiss and lap of his tongue. When the Doctor rewarded him with a firm palm, his bravery surged with his desire and he carefully nipped at the cable. The Doctor’s groan crackled into staticky feedback, the high pitched sound digging into his ears like a sharp needle. He ignored the fingers curling around the back of his neck, the very tips resting over his artery and bouncing with every dry mouthed swallow.“Very good,” the Doctor said, the sound distorted and thrown through competing speakers. “What a greedy thing you are, little beast. Idiotic enough to be caught; intelligent enough to provide a service that nothing else in this godforsaken factory could. Is this what you want?”The employee couldn’t argue or defend himself, too caught up in the pleasure of the Doctor’s hand and the cords that begged for his attention. They varied in textures, one matching that grooved cord he’d licked below, one with a slick rubber coating over segmented metal, one that was a simple plastic that tempted him to bite down just to see if he could break through the coating and into the metal below. Would it hurt to be shocked that way? Probably. He tamped down the desire in favor of arching for more.He whined into the cables when the Doctor’s hand slowed, the loss of sensation devastating. Was he not proving himself? What more could he possibly give?“Bite, little beast,” the Doctor panted, somehow breathless. “Let me feel your teeth—”He didn’t even finish his overly wordy sentence before the employee obeyed, licking the thickest wire into his mouth and biting down. The Doctor jerked with a poorly hidden grunt, the hands holding his weight going limp for a second before new hands supported the old, the various pistons of the body misfiring and nearly toppling them to the floor. The employee didn’t care; there were other robots there to stabilize them and he was surrounded on all sides. The Doctor would ensure that his pleasure wasn’t going to end from something as silly as falling over.The employee didn’t use all of the pressure his jaw could give, but the deformation of the cord was satisfying in the way that chewing on a pencil eraser was, and he couldn’t resist gnawing at it like the animal the Doctor thought of him. The palm over his need stroked faster and everything tightened within him. He was a fool, thinking that this was a good idea, but the hand over the back of his head pinning him close, the writhing twitches of the Doctor’s robotic body, the sounds bitten back yet undeniably pleasured, everything was rushing towards a peak his own fleshly body couldn’t handle. The muttered commands in his ear to bite harder, move to a different wire, lick faster, suck on that one, everything coalesced into an utter soup of endorphins and dopamine and probably lots of other hormones the Doctor could probably talk about at length.It grew like a tsunami, slow and inevitable until he choked on his breath and his jaw tightened as he pulled on the wire with the mindless actions of pleasure, eyes rolling in the back of his head and every muscle locked up. He bucked into the Doctor’s equally frantic pace over his arousal with whimpers that matched the Doctor’s growls and barely controlled thrashing beneath him. Eyes and colors flashed over the screen like a corrupted signal until it dazzled his closed eyes with a rolling, sticky static. He went limp, his underpants wet with his release, and collapsed onto the Doctor’s body like a ragdoll, the cable in his mouth freed and hanging a little more slack than it had been before.The Doctor heaved a breath to gather himself together, clearing a nonexistent throat. “That was enlightening, little beast,” he said, voice much more put together than the employee felt.The employee merely nodded and forced himself to straighten. He looked around as the other robots stepped back to their guarding positions around the massive tank that held the Doctor’s remaining humanity. The robot that held him, however, made no move to let him go. If anything, it held him tighter, unwilling to release his newest toy.The GrabPack pulled at the employee’s shoulders more than it ever had before and he melted against the Doctor once more in hopes of soothing his back. He had nothing he could do to get out of this and he had a feeling that he was in a much worse position than he had started in.“What kind of creation would suit your particular… skills, I wonder,” the Doctor said thoughtfully, and turned towards the wall of screens that lit the room in a dull, grey glimmer. “I will need to keep you intelligent. Or, I should say, as intelligent as you currently are. I do not need another failure like Yarnaby, a dimwitted idiot with the instincts of an animal. I will need to be careful with you.”He finally set the employee on his feet, looming over him with that same piercing gaze that had somehow lost its terrifying stare. The Doctor patted the employee’s shoulder. “Stay. There is a great deal to be gained from you yet, and I will not lose a promising subject like you to the same foolish whims that brought you here to begin with.”The employee kept his eyes firmly locked on the Doctor’s eye, the computer that controlled everything mere feet away. Patience. He didn’t have the time the Doctor had, but he had the determination to see it done. Maybe a few more times of the Doctor’s touch first, though.