#theteacherfromhell

He had let the vampire stay in his cell for a day without bothering him, letting him think about attacking him. It didn’t matter anyways, he had paper work and a meeting with the heads of Augustine to attend to. The vampire should have been fine. Yes he would be hungry but it wasn’t like he was going to be satisfied with his ration anyways. He doubted there would be much to please the man that he could do.

“Good morning.” He offered as he walked into the cell block, looking at the sandy haired vampire through the bars. “How was your first day at Augustine?” He asked, setting a cup of blood on the ground, sliding just so the vampire could reach it if he reached through the bars. It wasn’t the normal ration it was just a few sips more, closer to two but not quiet, he had after all left him hungry yesterday.

“How does your head feel?” He asked, clicking on he recorder o make note of the day, time and specimen. He was sure he wouldn’t get a straight answer from him if the check in process had been any indicator. 

He woke up, eyes slowly opening and looking around in the cell. “Damn,” he mumbled only to see no one around to hear him. Maybe his hopes were too high of draining the other before he was knocked out. Honestly, he didn’t remember passing out. The last thing he remembered was going for the doctor’s neck. He noticed his half assed bed that didn’t look comfortable at all before letting his eyes grace back to the ceiling, falling back asleep. He didn’t want to even think about the situation, sleep was the best medicine.

The vampire was woke up by the sound of Maxfield’s voice, going through his mind. He ignored his greeting, not even wanting to honestly address him. “Dreadful,” he replied, eyes watching the cup of blood being sat on the floor. “You could’ve slid it to me rather than make me work for it.” Ric rolled his eyes, sliding over to the bars to reach for it. He couldn’t help it, the smell was pungent. His nails touched the cup, slowly knocking it closer to him. It was gone in seconds, he was starving.

“I …don’t feel any different, honestly. Well, from what I can tell anyway,” he muttered, actually giving him a straight answer. In his eyes, a dimly lit fire remained. He was still thirsty, that one small cup was not about to do it for him, but his fangs retracted, the taste of the blood dying in his throat.

Wes watched as Ric drank down the blood in what he was sure was one sip. “I have heard it is better to take it a little at a time and savior it than to rush it all at once.” He said with a slight shrug as he noted Ric’s chart with his observation. “We have a few tests today, do you plan on walking over to the labs or do I have to restrain you?” He asked as he looked him over him.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, in fact it was more of a hassle than anything else. “I would rather not have too.” He added making a few more notes on his chart. 

He put the cup by the bars, signaling he was done. Upon finishing, oh how he wished he would have savored it. It was the best idea, but he simply couldn’t resist after feeling starved from the previous day. “I’ll agree with you there,” he shrugged, probably the only thing he would ever agree with the doctor on. He stood there, crossing his arms, tapping one of his fingers on his own arm. Ric rolled his eyes from Wes’ words. If he wanted to fight, he would, but with barely any blood he wasn’t exactly in the mood.

“I’m not in any mood for you to restrain me or to attack you for that matter, thanks,” nodded Ric, sarcasm coating his words. His eyes spoke volumes, showing that he want to attack Wesley, but was resisting due to the depletion of his strength. The vampire had not adjusted to having so little blood.

Wes all but rolled his eyes, his patience with the vampire waning Reaching out he unlocked the cell door, swinging it open. “You have a pop quiz, a few personal questions to answer and I need some blood. You will stand, walk ahead of me, stopping and turning when I tell you.” He said stepping back from the cell door. “Do you understand me?” He asked, blue eye looking down at the vampire, waiting on an answer His eyes followed every little movement of the other, no matter how small. The only thing his mind was telling him to do was to book it for the key, but it wouldn’t matter considering with the press of a button he’d be on the ground and wake up with needles in his arm again or back in his cell. Wesley’s words registered fast, but it didn’t mean he was happy about it. He hated being ordered around.

He shook his head, pacing his way outside of the cell. “Yeah, yeah,” he reluctantly agreed.

Wes watched as the vampire stood and shuffled from the small cell. “Forward until you get to the double doors.” He explained as he walked behind him, guiding him down the hall. Once they reached the double doors , he stepped in front of him pushing them open. “To your left.”

He had a small section set up just for the vampire, it had everything he needed, all his files and information, so it would all be at hand without having to leave the vampire for too long. He was thankful for the military funding he had secured Augustine. It was nice to be able to have the things he needed there and not be working in some little run down, half lab in a basement of a burnt out office.

“On the table, shirt off, please.” He added as he set about, grabbing the few things he would need for that day’s test. 

He rolled his eyes as he stood in front of his cell, he hated being degraded to this level more than anything. It was all he thought about the previous day, on top of Jeremy, Elena, and Damon. Sure he didn’t like vampires, but keeping them up like lab rats was just pure bullshit. Regardless of going through with the motions, remaining silent. Ric paced on the jailish floor before going to something that actually looked presentable. He went through the door and right to the left, anxiety completely setting in on his mind.

The hunter stopped by the table, shaking his head at the thought of the intake process from two days prior. His eyes looked across the room at the different items scattered about. How quickly could he knock the guy in the head and still have time to leave? The blood supply? All of these factors were key in finding out an escape plan. Ric shook his head again, appearing as if he was clearing his head, hues fixating on the doctor.

He slowly backed towards the table, sitting, and the vampire’s arms crossing to grip the bottom of the shirt, slowly slipping it off to place it on a counter. If it was one thing he hated, cooperative was one of them, but he knew he had to do it to make it go along to he could plan.

Wes watched as the vampire moved to sit on the table as requested, glad that he was listening, more vervain to his system would change the effects of the drug, it would make it work faster, wearing down his natural immune system till the disease took over. It would ruin his testing. Grabbing a small tray he pulled it over as he moved to stand in front of the vampire, watching as his eyes met his.

He didn’t trust him, didn’t trust that they wouldn’t have another repeat of the day before. “Lay down please.” He said moving to the foot of the bed, he was going to strap him down. He could get the blood tests and record his quiz answers that way. Picking up the straps he waited for the vampire to lay down, hoping once again, that this wasn’t going to be a fight. “It’s still a simple blood test and questions, I just don’t trust you.” He offered, hoping to soothe any nerves, the vampire had going.

Ric’s eyes said it all, the hues were filled with a million and one different emotions. A feeling of panic, slight fear, and imminent uneasiness coursed through his insides. His nerves going downhill by the second, but in his face he remained still. He felt like he was sweating from his hairline, much like he did when he was human, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He debated on the idea of fighting with him today or if he should just wait, he worried that if he didn’t fight now, he wouldn’t have any clue by the time he was in the late Alzheimer’s stages. 

He laid down, uneasiness finally showing in his eyes. It hurt him more than anything, he didn’t want to give the doctor an inch, wanting to keep it inside. Ric felt powerless and on the edge, his fingers tapped against the bed beneath him, showing restlessness. He tried the deep breath method, working slightly. “For the record, it doesn’t fucking help. Also, I don’t trust you, the feeling is completely damn mutual.” 

Wes fought to keep from rolling his eyes at the vampire, what did he have not to trust. “I don’t see what you have not to trust, I have only done everything I said I was going to do, nothing more, nothing less.” He offered as he slipped the straps around Alaric’s ankles before moving up to his arms.

“It was you who broke the trust by trying to attack me.” He continued as he slipped the cuffs around his hands. “I should be the only one with trust issues here Alaric.” He added as he pulled over the lilted table with his file and the wile for blood collection on them.

Reaching above him he pressed record on a small microphone hanging above them. The answers would need to be recorder audibly as well as on paper so they could monitor the effects of the disease and the then the healing process. “Today’s date is June seventh twenty fourteen, I am Dr Maxfield with specimen 99337. This is Alzheimer’s test 1. “

Reaching out he grabbed the needle, slipping it into Alaric arm as he talked. “Question 1: What is your full name?”

Ric was more than willing to roll his eyes at the other. “Really? You’re honestly asking me that? You were the one that kidnapped me after all, when you could’ve just let me go on with my life,” he spat, shaking his head at him. He’ll give him that, he was at least honest with everything he was going to do, but sometimes he felt like he was better off not knowing. 

His eyes turned to nothing other than that of a judgmental gaze.  ”-Excuse me for wanting to defend myself,” he huffed, tilting his head and quirking a brow at the doctor. “I think I too, have a reason to have trust issues.” His eyes followed Wes’ movements, anxiety beginning to kick in again. 

Damn what he wouldn’t do for some blood right now, sipping it up in five seconds was probably one of the worst ideas he’d ever had, but when you’re starving - things change. When the needle slipped into his arm, a small look of viable discomfort crossed the vampire’s features, a small huff escaping his lips.

He shook his head, of course he knew the answer to that. “Alaric James Saltzman.”

Wes noted the man’s discomfort and honestly he could see to why he had trust issues, he was after all the one who was kidnapped, however it was fun for him to poke fun at the man. He couldn’t help it. It was in his nature and he loved seeing people uncomfortable and the vampire was doing a good job of it.

“Question two, when is your birthday?” He asked. The test was made of a few very simple questions. Three things that were committed to memory that the normal person shouldn’t forget. Name, birthday and eye color. Those things didn’t change. You knew them from the time you were little to the time that you died.

The next three were questions of opinion. Opinions that you tended to stick with since you decided on them at an early age, favorite color, favorite food and favorite drink.

The last four he picked were made for Alaric personally. The first one, one of opinion, his favorite war, the last three matters of fact, things learned later in life and not always something that came up once or twice a month. The year the war was fought, the dates and who won.

While he waited for the second answer he drained two tubes of blood from the vampires. It was more than you would think you would need but he would have to separate the blood he actually needed from the vervain, sadly he would end with less than one tube but it would be enough to know the progression of the disease and if there was anything compromising the vampires now no existent immune system. The last thing he needed was for him to get sick over something else. 

Getting kidnapped wasn’t exactly on the agenda, he was still wondering about Jeremy and Elena, if they’d even found him as missing. Damon, anyone. Would they even know where to begin looking to find him? He thought about tugging at the bonds, soon noting the idea completely useless.

"May 8th," he answered, not thinking the year was exactly that important for a simple question.

"Green and like it matters," he answered, not really caring on the questions at all. He felt like giving false answers to just make his research inadequate, but that might piss him off a little. "Ribs." He had to think for a second, he just answered bourbon quickly, not even thinking. 

"Civil War, 1861-1865." Anyone who knew him, knew that was the obvious answer. As he kept answering questions, the more he felt his sanity dwindling. He hated everything about being there, this only making it worse. 

Every time blood was taken from him, a small scowl escaped from his now pale, pink lips. He felt like the literal life was being taken out of him, which was how he felt about Augustine as a whole. “Is that much blood really necessary?” he questioned as he watched the blood get sorted.

Wes made a note of all of the answers as Alaric gave them to him as he waited for the blood to spate from the vervain before draining it all into one tube.

“Yes I have to take that much blood, with all the vervain in your system, when I sort it out and remove it, I only have one tube. You will live trust me.” He answered as he picked up the one tube and put it in the fridge.

“Thank you for your answers.” He added as he moved back over to him, with a small cup of blood. “I would drink that one slower if I was you.” He added un-strapping one hand.

“Every day I will be asking you the same questions and taking a vile of blood once a week. We can get a long in this endeavor or we can’t. I know you met Enzo, he was one of my best specimens. He knew he was in here and that so long as he worked with me his time would be easier.” He offered in way of an explanation. It was his goal to give everyone who came in the option to make this easy or hard. There was no reason why they shouldn’t at least be thank in some small way even for their contributions to science and the world.

People across the world would benefit from what Alaric was doing. Families would sing praises to him if only they knew what he had done to bring them their loved ones back. “Would you like a cup of coffee, I have been told it can help with the hunger.” He offered. 

He never liked getting blood taken, and being in Augustine only made it worse. Usually he didn’t care because it was for what he believed to be a halfway decent purpose - his own health.

His eyes rolled, this was the one time he was hoping ..maybe even partially he wouldn’t survive, but what would be of his life when he escaped then? Inadequate. “Maybe if you wouldn’t jack me up with that much vervain you’d have less issues,” he muttered, sarcasm lacing every syllable.

'Thank you,' he thought, a huff escaping. Really? He'd actually address him with a thank you? Wow, this guy was more out of his mind than he thought. The creep factor alone just added to the doctor's demeanor, making it something more and more that Ric absolutely detested. As the cup neared him, his eyes followed. He wasn't about to act like he was dying for a taste, Wes already knew that. His hand went for the cup of blood, feeling the relief of something being free. 

"Usually I can get along with just about anybody, but damn," he paused, shaking his head. "Why would anyone want to even consider being cooperative in something like this?" he questioned, not having it at all. Unless he realized he was going to be here a really damn long time and just forgot about his dignity, Ric didn’t want to end up that way, then again he didn’t really know Enzo or his story all that well. 

The hunter quirked a brow, curiosity approaching his face. “Coffee? Really? I was always told alcohol did it, and do you honestly think I want your coffee?” He didn’t mean to sound rude, but in a way he did. That coffee could have whatever the hell he felt like in it, he didn’t exactly want a part of that.

  Wes could have laughed at the man’s response. “Why would I put something in your coffee when I could just put it in you directly?” He commented, giving him a smile before turning back to his charts. Slipping his recorder from his pocket he turned it off, rewinding the tape to the beginning before tossing it in a small envelope.