He didn't want to. It hurt so much and he knew what they were doing to him. Each time made it easier to give in, to not think, to follow whatever orders he was given. And eventually there might not be anything left of him. But if it helped York, kept him safe... And he's tired, so utterly tired.

There's a flicker in his vision, a flash of cyan, and then there's a hand on his shoulder. Carolina. She glares at the guards. "Lower your weapons," she snaps. "I'll deal with this."