He'd been at the mercy of the Ten Rings, the modern day Templars, for exactly two years today.
At first, he'd fought tooth and nail to escape, enduring the torture they heaped upon him with icy glares and angry words. Now, however, he endured hi torture in silence, repeating the creed in his mind during the punishment and in soft, almost inaudible Arabic at night. He also helped the other prisoner, a doctor named Yinsen, in any way he could. He bound his wounds and nursed his fever, and just provided him with companionship that they both found themselves missing. Yinsen was a calm man from Gulmira and sometimes he held Brian in his seemingly frail arms when the torture became too much and the words of the Creed were unable to sooth his weary soul. He'd been the assassin's constant companion for a year now, having been brought in on the anniversary of Brian's first year in captivity, and the blond couldn't be more grateful.
Currently, he was fixing a small dinner for his friend, watching from the far corner of their shared cave as the elder male operate on the newest prisoner. The man on the table was screaming, tears leaking from his wild glazed eyes as pieces of his ribs were removed and his organs were rearranged to make room the electromagnetic device the doctor would be implanting to keep the shrapnel they were unable to remove from reaching his heart and shredding it.
"Brian, do you have any more of sleeping powder from our last patient?" The man asked and the blond shook his head sadly.
"No. But the component I made for your leg should be cooled by now. It should work on your patient." He paused and tilted his head curiously. "Who is he anyways?"
Yinsen frowned at him and took the ointment as he held it out for him, then set about spreading the cool green paste along the edges of the fist-sized hole in the man's chest.
"The CEO of Stark industries. Anthony Stark." He replied hooking the electromagnet to the car battery their captors had provided for the operation. For some reason the men had stressed that they absolutely had to keep the man alive.
Blinking owlishly, the blond stood and moved over to them, leaning over the now unconcious man with a child-like curiosity. Before he could say anything, however the head captor entered.
The head captor, Raza, was a tall man of 6'4 with cold dark eyes and sun-kissed russet skin, wearing black cargo pant, and a skin tight black shirt paired with steel-toed boots and a black cameo scarf.
He gave them a mockingly kind smile, glancing at Stark's prone form.
"How is Mr. Stark, gentlemen?
Yinsen gulped slightly and stepped forward, unnoticed tremor of fear wracking his small frame.
"He should live for another week. The magnet will not be able to keep the shrapnel from his heart for long."
Raza frowned. "There is nothing else you can do?"
The doctor shook his head hesitantly and the Templar scowled. "I see…And you, assassin," He turned to Brian. "Do you have any medical knowledge?"
The blonde returned his gaze stoically. "I have no medical knowledge beyond battlefield first aid."
Raza growled, eye dark with frustration before he turned to his men. "Bring the assassin!" He ordered and they surged forward grabbing the blond roughly. "Doctor, Stay with Mr. Stark." He tossed over his shoulder and Brian's heart clenched as he caught sight of the heartbroken expression his friend wore as he was dragged from the room.
Forcing himself deep into his mind, Brian took a deep breath and began his catechism.
'The wisdom of our creed is revealed through these words.'
They forced him to his knees and bent him over the edge of a large barrel full of dirty water.
'We work in the dark to serve the light.'
His head was shoved under the water almost unexpectedly and he began to thrash, his lungs burning for air. Moments later he was yanked out by his hair.
'We are assassins.'
Gulping for fresh air, he tried to force his mind to a happier time. Times of Team Toretto and Dom. Times of joining the brotherhood and finding his sister again. He tried to ignore the tears mingling with the water on his face and the emotional agony in his soul. His head was shoved back into the barrel once more and he began to choke, gagging as the water entered his nose and vomit left his mouth.
'Nothing is true.'
He was yanked up again and he coughed, relishing the sweet burn of air invading his deprived lungs. Once more his head was forced into the barrel, vomit entering his nose and mouth and burning his eyes. He choked and gagged but continued to fight, wanting t get back to that sweet glorious air. Unfortunately it was not to be. Instead a sharp pain spawned across his back, causing him to scream and forcing more of the disgusting mixture into his lungs. He was yanked out of the water by his hair and he trembled as a horrible cough wracked his slender frame. The whip struck him once more and he bit his lip trying to ignore the black spot creeping into his vision. The whip came down again, striking him in the same place and he gasped hoarsely, jerking in his captor's arms.
"Return him to his cell. He is no fun if he is silent."
The hands gripping his hair dropped him and another pair grabbed him roughly and forced him to his feet, causing him to surrender to blissful unconsciousness. As the darkness took over the last line of the creed drifted through his mind.
'Everything is permitted.'