(BL)Alpha Made
Chapter 22: A man needs to eat

Chapter 22: A man needs to eat

"All patched up, Andy. Shall we get onto the serious business?" Michael asked cheerfully, and Andrew chuckled.

"Well, no time like the present." Michael grabbed one of his bags, pulling out a bunch of vials along with several needles and a needle disposal container. It was clear this was a practise he did often, or at the very least, had some knowledge in.

"The basics of what I’m going to do is take a blood sample. With that blood sample I’ll send half of it to a trusted lab to get a plethora of tests done on it. The whole list, if possible. The second half I’ll do a short test here that will give us a basic idea of what’s going on, but only half trust that one. The reason being, this isn’t a lab, I’m not a tech, and it’s only 70% accurate. You don’t have a fear of needles?" He paused, halfway into prepping everything and Andrew laughed.

"No, no fear." Michael nodded, hesitated, then opened his mouth.

"It’s only fair to ask, given your...arms." He ended and Andrew, who finally had glasses and could see, looked down at his arms. He flinched.

He looked like shit. Large bruises covered his whole body, but the bruising around the injector spots was the worst. He honestly couldn’t even remember pulling them out when he’d left. He had no memory of it at all.

Flipping his hands and arms over, he could tell he’d taken quite a beating. His feet weren’t better. If he’d gone even farther, he might have needed stitches.

"Oh. I think if you had to inject something into me, I might react differently, but taking blood should be fine. Wait. Maybe I should eat first? I haven’t eaten in a week." Michael went white.

"Mr. Newman!" He called, and the two smaller men rushed into the room.

"What? What’s wrong?" They asked in unison, and Michael swallowed.

"Do we have anything for Andy to eat? He just informed me he hasn’t eaten in a week." Everyone was looking at him with obvious concern. Andrew smiled.

"I was given fluids that had stuff in them. I was throwing everything up. It was also better than force feeding me." Horror. Horror on all three of their faces. Andrew didn’t know how to react to that.

Mr. Newman marched towards the kitchen.

"If there isn’t anything in Mr. Beckett’s fridge or freezer, I will make something. Don’t take his blood yet." Michael held his tongue, just nodding. He wasn’t being paid to speak, only to do his job.

Maxwell came over, gently touching Andrew’s shoulder.

"Are you hungry?" He murmured quietly, and Andrew relaxed. It was nice to have Maxwell thinking of him.

"I lost my appetite for pretty much everything very early on. It helped that T-" He cut off as Maxwell’s gentle expression morphed into anger. "Uh, Dr. Williams’ scent was egregious enough to turn my stomach." That reminder seemed to appease him, and his expression softened again.

"Alright. But can you eat? Will that upset you?" Andrew shrugged.

"We’ll find out." He said optimistically, and Maxwell’s expression shifted. It was still gentle, but there was active concern. He looked up, glancing towards the kitchen.

"I’ll go see if we have some juice first. I’ll be back." He gave Andrew’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing him. As soon as Maxwell was out of hearing range, Michael gave Andrew a look.

"What?"

"Andy, my guy, how the fuck did you get Maxwell Beckett wrapped around your finger?" Andrew gave him a confused look. He clearly didn’t understand how the outside world viewed Maxwell, while Michael did.

"Uh, I don’t?" Andrew said, confused and Michael shut his mouth. If the man himself didn’t realise it, now was not the time to reveal it to him.

"Okay, maybe I’m wrong. While those two try to get you something to eat, I’m going to switch gears and ask you some questions that might be a little invasive. If you’re uncomfortable answering any of them, just tell me. We can skip them." Andrew nodded.

"Okay." Michael pulled off the gloves he’d slipped on, and tossed them. He then pulled out a notebook, a pen, and his phone.

"Is it alright if I record as well? Just to make sure I have two copies." Andrew nodded, and Michael set up his phone, hit record, and turned to Andrew. "So, let’s start at the beginning. What was the first time you remembered?"

"Well, she lured me out with the promise of my company laptop. I have a feeling that if she hadn’t upset me enough to send me to the bathroom to clear my mind, it wouldn’t have happened. She took that chance to drug my drink. It was a fast acting drug, since within five minutes I was basically non verbal, my vision blurred, and my limbs lost most motor function." Michael nodded, taking notes.

"And how did she get you out of wherever you were?"

"Oh! We were in a café near my old work. She ’had someone near the door’ help her take me out and shove me into a car. They had a medical professional on hand to make sure they didn’t kill me with whatever they had given me."

"I see." He took a second to write everything down. "And that’s when they kidnapped you and tied you up?" Michael asked and chuckled.

"I think so? The first day is a little fuzzy. What I do vaguely remember is the first few days I was in a hospital-like room. They were pumping me with drugs consistently. They even changed the formula a few times. I’m sorry, I don’t know the formulas." Michael glanced at Andy, his face serious, but shook his head.

"Don’t worry about that for now." He told him. "When do you think things began to change in you?" He asked, and Andrew gripped the blanket on his lap in his hands tightly. He felt his heartbeat pick up.

"I...the fourth day. I hid anything I could from them. I couldn’t trust them with new information, but that’s the day when things started to change. They noticed a day later, and punished me for hiding it from them." Michael’s jaw tightened, but he held his tongue.

"Can you describe those symptoms to me? What came first?"

"Well, before the injections had felt like molten metal going through my veins, they now felt dulled. I was also beginning to be able to pick up through scent that T-Dr. Williams was an omega." Michael’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t make a comment.

"Alright, and what were the next symptoms? What did you begin to notice?"

"Well, I felt restless, feverish, and a need. I still don’t know what that need is, but it came in waves. Sometimes it was potent, and other times it wasn’t as bad. Dr. Williams’ scent, which had been awful, slowly turned to something more tolerable? I was also super erect, but I take that as a side effect of the drugs." Michael’s pen stopped.

"How long were you held hostage?"

"Seven days, give or take." Michael paused, running a hand over his face.

"Fuck. Okay. Alright." He glanced at Andrew, really looking at him, before shaking his head.

"I’m going to make an educated guess, and keep in mind I could be wrong, but I think they were feeding you a rut amplifier to stimulate you. That’s why you’re in a rut right away. They aren’t on the market, only whispered about in medical circles. The reason being? Very dangerous. Very deadly. Several of the tests ended with deaths. Fuck. You are so, so lucky to be alive right now Andrew." Andrew’s blood ran cold with Michael’s words. "I really want to give you a rut suppressant, but I need that blood test first. I do not want to give you something that could harm you, and until I have a basic understanding of what they fucked with in your system, I can’t do that."

"I appreciate that, Michael." Andrew told the man, who laughed softly, shaking his head.

"It’s nothing. Just basic fucking human decency. I can’t fucking believe that someone did this. Okay, back to seriousness, are there any other symptoms you can remember?"

"Well, I was quite dizzy and drowsy for some days. And my muscles ached. I...don’t really remember how I got here. I thought I was going to pass out, and I had to strong arm myself with good thoughts to keep my body moving so that I could escape." Michael paused.

"What did you think about to motivate you?" Andrew felt his whole face go red, and he looked away from Michael. Instead of verbally answering, he gestured to the kitchen. Michael’s face, which had been serious, relaxed into a grin. "Ah, I see." Andrew cleared his throat.

"I only woke up really when Maxwell approached me at his treeline. I don’t remember the time between that." Michael sighed.

"While that isn’t normal, it’s not unheard of. There are several who enter a rut and don’t remember what happened during it. While that would put you on a small list, it’s not as if you are alone." Andrew nodded. "This was also an extreme situation, so it could not happen for your second rut." Andrew opened his mouth, hesitated, before asking the question.

"Will there...be a second rut?" He asked, and Michael’s expression shifted. It wasn’t quite pity, but it was close to it. Sympathy. That’s what it was.

"Oh Andy, whatever those monsters did to you? It’s permanent."