Y/N is abducted by aliens part 3 (Patreon)

:D I'm glad you guys like this series! I hope you enjoy reading :) 

(ALSO bought a fuck ton of stamps, they should be here soon so I can start shipping things off!!) 

part 1

part 2 

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iii.

For three hours, Y/N wavers in and out of consciousness.

Whatever sedative that they had been giving her was still floating around in her system, so once the adrenalin diminished after she’d absconded with Harry, she felt weary. She was confused and scared, the scent of the leather suitcases made her head hurt and a new wave of exhaustion flushed through her. Albeit this fatigue, she was unable to give herself wholly to her dreams as she wanted to. Always halfway awake.

And she remembered something.

It was very little and the connection to her previous memory was slight. She was no longer on the street in her neighborhood with the soles of her feet pierced by gravel, but in a chair. In a chair with her eyes squeezed shut tight, not because she was hiding from something, but because it was just too damn bright -- it burned, how bright it was, the thought of having to open her eyes at all made her want to cry. The scent of wherever she was could only be defined as sterile, her head ached, and she remembers so clearly, wishing she was at home, in her bed, safe and warm. Instead of here, cold, these voices that were not a language she recognized but somehow she understood floating through her brain.

She’s hurting.

The lights! The lights!

Off then. Turn lights off for her hurt.

She’s hurting.

Stop it.

Turn off.

She’s hurting.

“Sweetheart?” Y/N is embarrassed by the startled noise that leaves her once she jolts awake. Her eyes pry open and she’s looking up into Harry’s worried gaze, that dashes from her face down her body and up again like he’s searching for something, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N takes in the fact that the suitcases are piled up outside of the trunk beside Harry, on a dirt path. Behind him she sees trees, bits of a grey sky -- no blinding lights, “You were whimpering.”

“No, no, I’m -- I’m okay,” she blinks the blurry haze of sleep from her eyes, trying to focus more clearly on the world around her, “Are we there? Wherever we’re going?”

Harry looks guilt stricken as he shakes his head, holding out his hand for her to grab as he helps her ease out of the trunk, “I wish I could say we are but we still have three hours to go. We’re far enough away that you can sit in the backseat.” Y/N nods, grimacing when a brush of icy air blows up the hospital gown and Harry’s brows dip in, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’d be a little better if my bum wasn’t out for the free world to see.” She teases and she watches as he noticeably relaxes, and only then does Y/N realize that his other hand is preoccupied with a bundle of fabric that -- once she looks closer -- is her own, “Is that -- are those mine?”

He nods, “I promise I’m not some creep. It’s why I was asking all those questions about your flat and whatnot, so I could send for some of your belongings. I figured these would be the most comfortable to wear on a long car ride,” he unfolds them, revealing her worn, soft grey sweatpants and an old Rolling Stones t-shirt that she bought three years ago at the mall (convinced that when her crush at the time saw her in it, he would immediately want to take her out on a date and theorize about their albums -- it didn’t work, but she still liked the shirt), “You can get changed right here. I know the conditions aren’t particularly favorable to get dressed in, but Mitch and I will be around the otherside of the car.”

“Yeah, okay, thank you,” she takes the clothes from his hold, bundling them and clutching them to her chest, “Um -- I hate to sound like a four-year-old on a car ride, but are we going to eat soon? Feels like my belly is trying to eat itself.”

Harry laughs gently and it warms her insides to mush. His eyes are lighter today -- not as striking as a green, more so a grey that matches the gloomy sky but a brightness still dances within them that comforts her. He’s still in his ‘kidnapper’ attire, but the beanie is no longer nestled on his head and in its place is a mess of curls that flopped every which way. She likes it like that, she thinks -- it was much longer than it had been when she first met him, but she thinks that’s only because he styles his hair in the mornings. Y/N guesses when someone is going to great lengths to abduct a science experiment, gel is not as important.

“We’ll stop by a drive-thru and get something in you. We might have to start a bit small though -- you’ve been on small rations for quite some time, I wouldn’t want you to get ill.”

He leaves her to get dressed and Y/N does so as quickly as she could, first pulling on the pants beneath the hospital gown, then turning to face the car as she pried the gown off and pulled the shirt over her head. A shudder rattles through her as she adjusts to the comfort of her own clothes, smelling the familiar detergent and softener that clung to the fabric. She longs to do laundry again. Yearns to gripe, bleat and moan about her full clothes basket and put it off until she is down to her last pair of pants and it is inevitable that she needs to start a load. She misses accidentally putting too much detergent, and she misses forgetting about the clothes in the washer and having to rerun the machine so they weren’t stiff or smelled stale.

Y/N missed the parts of her life that were so painfully normal, nobody could even be paid to watch it.

A tear strips down her cheek -- it's hot. It burns as it trickles down the curve of her nose and settles in the crevice where her smile lines meet her nares. She wipes it away just as soon as it appears and takes a moment to compose herself before she seeks out Harry and Mitch. Y/N had never been one keen on letting others see her cry, let alone the two that had just probably saved her life -- she wouldn’t want them to think she was ungrateful. She only longed for the normalcy her days once provided her and didn’t know if she would ever get those back.

“Harry?” She finally calls out, stepping around the car, her feet coming into contact with the cold compact soil that they were parked over. From where she stood now she can see that they are in what might have been a campsite at one point but was now too overgrown and unruly to be anything but a clearing. Behind them the trees continue on for as far as her eyes can make out.

Mitch and Harry are leaning against the hood of the car, Mitch with a cigarette tucked between his lips as he types away on his phone. Harry has his arms crossed like he was shielding himself from the wind, but they immediately loosen as he turns to face her, a small smile on his mouth, “Ah, good! Reckon this suits you much more than that hospital gown.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” she motions down toward her feet, “Did you grab any shoes?”

“Course I did,” he walks to the backseat door on the driver’s side, popping it open and reaching down on the floor of the car, “I liked these best, so I brought them for the ride.”

Y/N wishes she could focus on which pair he might be talking about, but she’s a little caught off guard by the holster that’s fixed to his trousers. She hadn’t noticed it before, obscured by the large hoodie that he’d been wearing, but now that she’s seen it her eyes are fixed on it. Her mouth parts just slightly and she is too slow to fix her features by the time he turns to face her. His face drops into one of concern again until he follows where her gaze darts from him and back to the gun, “Oh,” he murmured, realization dripping thick over his words, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I know -- you told me once that these make you uncomfortable?” She nods slowly, swallowing thickly, “I hate them too, but. . .the people who had you were not good people.”

“I thought they worked for the government?” She asked, training her gaze on him instead of it.

He nodded, “Some of them -- it was a sector of the government, but they were running a lot of under the cuff shit that the main district doesn’t know about. You were one of the things that they weren’t telling the district.” Holding out the shoes for her, Y/N takes them from him carefully, “I won’t lie to you, they’ll come after you. You’re something very important to them, but I won’t let them take you back to that place. I’m going to keep you safe and this --” he motions toward the gun, “Is a necessary evil. I only have it out since we’re stationary. When we get in the car I’ll put it in the glove box and you won’t have to see it. Okay?”

She nods her head, “Okay. I’m --” she sighs as she lowers, sliding off the hospital socks that she had and exchanging them for the  “I’m sorry I got all. . .all weird, it’s just --”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. This is a lot to swallow and I know I’m only giving you bits and pieces of information, but when we get where we need to be, I’ll sit down with you and we’ll cover all of it. You can ask me anything and I’ll be completely transparent.”

And she trusts him. She trusts him as she crawls into the backseat of the car, and she trusts him when he hands his black beanie as he says, “This should keep your ears warm,” even though his are bitten red from the cold. So Y/N gets settled in her seat, slides the belt across her chest and appreciates being upright for a little while. She was still exhausted, but she couldn’t lean her head back and rest anymore -- not when the memory replays in her brain again, and again, and again.

She’s hurting.

Turn the light off!

It’s hurting, she’s hurting.

Living.

Off!

Can’t see.

She’s hurting.

She rubs her temples, sighing softly before letting her head rest back against her seat any way. Y/N is so angry at her brain right now, that she can’t remember it all at once. These little glimpses and blurbs of memory did not suffice -- it stressed her out. She just wanted to know what the hell happened that got her here in the first place.

Harry and Mitch both take their seats, Mitch starts the car, cranks the heat up high and rubs his palms together as he waits for the car to warm up. He turned in his seat some so that he could face her, “Hello,” he began, tipping his head down in her direction, “We haven’t properly met. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but shit could be worse off than it is now,” he holds out his hand and Y/N takes it, shaking it awkwardly, “We’ll keep you sorted.”

“Okay, thank you,” she lets her hand slide from his, “I’m sorry you guys got dragged into this.”

“There was no dragging,” Mitch says as he shifts gears into drive, pulling out of the clearing toward a small hill that led them straight onto the main road once again, “Harry let me know what was going on and I thought it was fucked, man. For them to want to cut into you is just. . .there are no words. Humanity completely skips over some people I guess.”

Y/N feels her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach, “What?”

Mitch pauses for a moment, “Wait, you didn’t know?”

“Lovely Mitch,” Harry replied, rubbing his forehead, “Absolutely magic, you really did it this time.”

“How was I supposed to know you hadn’t gotten that far in the explanation?”

“They were going to cut into me?” Y/N repeats and Harry blows out a huff of air through his nose, turning in his seat as much as he could from under the seat belt.

“Yes -- that’s what I meant when I said they were going to get more invasive with the procedures. I asked about their plans with you since you were showing no notable signs of being abducted or any changes in the last month, and I wanted to know when they would deem it safe to send you home. They told me that exploratory surgery might be necessary before they could send you anywhere, and how a month was not enough time to know everything. When I asked how long was enough, they told me it could take up to five years -- maybe more,” Harry locks eyes with her, “That’s why I took you away from there, yeah?”

A shiver rattles through her spine at the thought. Being locked in that room for a month had been enough to nearly drive her batty, and now that she was out of there, she could not imagine having to spend even a second more in that place. Another heavy flush of gratitude swallows her whole as her mouth falls agape, “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all she can say at first, “I -- oh my god?”

“I know, it’s awful,” he agrees, “The thought of it makes me ill. To treat any human being like that is deplorable -- it’s why I was advocating so hard for you.” He turns his head some to Mitch, “When I met her, they had her in bloody restraints, did I tell you that?”

“Seriously?”

Harry nods, still disbelieving of it, “Fucking restraints, with no bed, and they had a thin sheet for her as a blanket. Poor thing wasn’t sleeping, they were feeding her the same shit. . .treating her like a lab rat.”

“Won’t they --” she begins, a thought striking her, “You’re going to be MIA. Won’t they wonder where you went? And like -- start looking for you too or something?”

“Me and about forty other scientists were only contracted for a month -- as far as they’re concerned I’ve been back in London for a day or two now to sort through my regular day-to-day operations,” he explained, “As disgusted as I was by everything, I acted as if their ideas were good ones and heavily emphasized keeping you there to them. So that there would be no suspicion when you suddenly disappear in the middle of the night.”

Y/N presses her hand to her head, “Aish,” she murmured, “This is too much.”

“I know,” he responds regretfully, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I wish I could take all of this away -- I wish I could take you to your home and you could live as you were but. . .we just have to get things settled first. I promise you, I’ll get your life back to normal.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing to me,” she answers, “You’re doing so much for me, please stop saying sorry. I should be saying sorry -- I’m putting you lot through so much over something I can barely even remember.”

“It’ll come back,” he says it so assuredly, she almost believes him, “Try to get a bit more rest, yeah? You still look so tired -- I’ll wake you when we get to some food.”

She nods, and she leans back, and she lets her eyes flutter shut.

Because she trusts him.