Prompt: Trauma/War Prize
Summary: At times, Hawks wished that he would talk to him. But, no, he had to get used to the silence.
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It was part of the job to not get captured, but Hawks couldn't help it. These particular villains were too clever and too fast. They were quite adept strategizes. Especially the scarred one.
At least Hawks had time to relax now...in his cell.
It was quiet in the cell, and Hawks had been there for days. There was no clock and no windows. No way to chronicle the passing of time.
A masked man brought a tray of food, and he seemed to have a habit of talking to himself. Hawks could deal with that as long as he minded his boundaries and didn't try to mess with him.
At times, Hawks wished that he would talk to him. But, no, he had to get used to the silence.
For another day or night, the quiet hissed around him.
It was...unbearable.
"Anyone out there?" his voice trembled when he spoke.
Hawks hadn't said a word for over a week, and his voice was a little weak.
Still, someone would appear he was sure.
Hawks was sure that someone was waiting for him to react. A bit of entertainment for them perhaps.
"I just wanted you to ask where the fuck is everyone? I've ben waiting for so damned long."
Had he been forgotten?
The cavernous rooms around him continued their hiss of silence.
"I just want to talk," sputtered Hawks
He was drawing ever closer to begging. And, they probably knew it.
Hawks could hear footsteps now.
Was he finally heard? Maybe a taste of mercy was coming.