Oh. Right.

What happened from your perspective? Who's they?

uh...i woke up strapped down. same as you. we’re in a big bio lab. a guy gagged me – another guy in a lab coat was there, i think he might’ve been in charge. robot arm scanned me or something and then cut me up like it did you.

then they pointed this – thing – at me, and i couldn’t heal right, and then there was just...nothing. until i woke up in here.

…right. Assuming we're not doomed —

The thought is interrupted by the feeling of the entire room descending like an elevator.

— uh, any suggestions on what I should be doing given an opportunity?

i mean...running like hell is always a good option.

Fair enough.

The enclosure stops probably-descending. One wall drops, revealing a normal-sized door with a corridor bending to the right.

Time to wait for something to happen, because they sure as hell can't do anything strapped down like this.

Oh look, it's the return of the ceiling-mounted robot arms! This one would like to spray them with gray slime.

The good news is, it seems to be dissolving the restraints. The bad news is, slime.

gross.

Indeed, but he can move now. He proceeds cautiously and ickily.

The direction they point me isn't the time for running like hell, I figure.

yeah, probably not. wonder where they’re sending you.

Around the corner is an open door to a small room with a bed, bathroom fixtures, and a door.

Shower!!!

So what if there are probably cameras and there is definitely only one door that doesn't lock and has a window. None of that is worth putting up with this gunk and soggy-paper-esque restraint leftovers.

shower?

(There’s some internal conflict about what level of watching is acceptable. Can he even stop watching? He has no idea.)

He pauses in reaching for the shower controls.

Is this going to be too weird for you?

...hey, worry about you, not me. i’m not gonna complain.

I'm not gonna let all this get to me any more than it has to.

And anyway the first part is to just to turn the shower on and hose down clothes and all (after checking and finding that his pockets have been entirely emptied). Then remove items of clothing and rinse, wring, toss aside; soap and rub down body (they seem to have provided no washcloths, scrubbers, or even towels, just a hot-air dryer).

— don't think about someone's watching, just get the job done. Don't — argh, must you?

Done. Turn off water. Dry off self and clothes adequately, put on clothes, be soggy for a while.

Somehow, the first emotion that manages to get through their gradually strengthening connection is a vague sense of smugness.

Additional embarrassment, irritation, and the actual bodily sensation of flushing.

He instinctively goes to cover his eyes–

...oh. Right. Can't do that right now.

...then he goes back to what he just felt.

okay. i'm getting feelings from you now, i guess. zero privacy in here, huh?

Caaaaalm down. Caaaaalm down. It can't be helped. For now. But does he have to be smug about it?

–whoof, okay, more emotional feedback than he was prepared for. And...more thoughts.

okay, okay. sorry.

(It makes it a little harder not to panic.)

Argh. Sorry. You didn't exactly sign up for this either.

It's hard to describe exactly what comes through – not nervous laughter, or even the sound of it, but the suggestion of it.

pretty normal not to like somebody eyeing you up in the shower.