This is set towards the beginning of Feyre’s time with the Collector, before he was Named. So his original name (Sofi) will be used.
Sofi stands with his arms wrapped around his thin body, feet shuffling on the floor nervously. Ever since he had been taken out of that horrible cramped crate, things had a blur. The man in the suit had asked him a lot of questions and he had stuttered through his replies. He must be far from home, because although common was being spoken, the man had a very different accent.
Name, Age, was what his gender, what was his species. The questions came and came until he was about ready to break down and sob from sheer overwhelment. A boy? Man? Sofi wasn’t sure, but he stands at the Collector’s side, writing all of Sofi’s answers down into a book.
Finally, the Collector stands, and claps his hands once, making Sofi flinch. “Well, I think that settles it.” He holds his gloved hands out for the book which his assistant hands to him. “Crow, take this boy and made sure he properly processed. You’ll report back to me when you’re finished.”
Crow nods, and takes hold of the short chain that’s attached to the collar that had been locked around Sofi’s neck. He gives a quick tug and the boy stumbles along after him, wing tips dragging behind him. Processed? What did that mean? Where were they taking him?
It ends up meaning a large bathroom where Crow unceremoniously pushes him towards a shower before dropping the chain and walking to another cabinet. Sofi stands uncertainly, looking around the room until Crow walks back with a towel in hand. He frowns and tugs at Sofi’s shirt. He tugs again and points to the shower and Sofi understood.
Slowly, he unbuttons the buttons that hold his shirt closed in the back underneath his wings and pulls the shirt over his head. He’s painfully thin, and his bright markings stand out in contrast on his skin.
Crow puts a hand on his hip impatiently and motions for him to keep going and get in the shower. Sofi shucks off the last of his clothes and tucks his wings closely around himself. “I- I don’t know how...” he says, pointing to the shower.
Crow gives a very dramatic eye roll and walks over to a bathtub and turns the tap on. It fills quickly and he points to it. Sofi knows he doesn't have much of a choice and steps in. It’s hot, almost too hot, but Crow doesn’t seem to care as he starts scrubbing Sofi down.
It takes them a long time to get Sofi clean, dry, and all of his feathers in order again, and a pair of pants before Crow is dragging him off again. The next room is the same blinding stark white that the bathroom was and Crow points to a table in the middle of the room. There’s straps hanging off and Sofi begins to shiver. He doesn’t know- doesn’t want to know what it’s for, but it isn’t like he had a choice.
Gingerly, he lay’s face down and feels Crow strap his wrists and ankles down. Another set of footsteps comes. “Same thing?”
There’s no answer from Crow, but he must have agreed. Sofi can’t see what’s going, shaking in fear of the unknown until he feels the needles hitting his skin just under where his left wing meets his back. He yelps and tries to pull away, but the cuffs hold him fast. He doesn’t like this pain- he wants it to stop. “P-please-“ he begs and he feels Crow press his shoulders down so he won’t thrash around. “Stop!” But the needles keep poking into his skin.
He was sobbing when it finally stopped. He didn’t know what they had done to him but it hurt.
“All finished”, the not-Crow voice said. “Tattoo came out nice and clear this time. The crest and the number.” Big hands unlatched the cuffs and helped Sofi sit up. “Well hello there 6092.”
