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As were Soner's next words. "A damn shame you have started to build up a resistance," he grumbled, and Victor heard the sound of his flask opening. A sudden want for a drink seized him, strong enough to surprise even him, but- oh, God.

Oh, God, that made too much sense. And then Soner was pulling out his gag, and Victor took the opportunity to speak, voice far more unsteady than he would have liked it as he managed, "You drugged me."

"I have been drugging you," Soner corrected, "Though- you took it of your own will, I only supplied it. Have some for the road, yes?" And with that, the flask was pressed to Victor's lips.

Victor pressed them together, turning his head away even as Soner tsked and took a fistful of his hair to try and force him back. And despite his best efforts, he could feel the mouth of the flask threaten to push past his lips, and if it did-

No. No. No-!

A helpless rage filled him, as blind as he was, that wanted to scream and shout and rampage at anything in its path. Without any outlet, it threatened to turn within; to lash at his own mind, to blame him for allowing this to happen. And while, perhaps, he was in part to blame, he had to get out of here, had to get free, had to cut these blasted bindings, had to-

cut