(This is not mine just a reupload)

You fail to protect your brothers, you can join them in death

Logan let out a pained grunt as he was grabbed by the ankle and quickly pulled from where he was somewhat peacefully resting with his brother after being told everything was over. Sand slipped through the gaps between his gloved fingers as he desperately tried to find something to hold onto, hearing his brother’s distressed cries from further down. Hesh was unable to get to him.

After one last feasible attempt at reaching out, he could feel his vision fail him and start to blacken, body limp against the gritty terrain.

Everything after that was a blur for the most part.

He’d wake up occasionally to the sight of either Rorke’s face or the pitter patter of the rain slapping against the window of whatever vehicle he was in. Rorke wasn’t too worried about what Logan would remember, knowing the man was far too disoriented and injured to actually make a move. He’d be indoctrinated soon enough.

In Rorke’s mind, he knew Logan from the inside out, both from working with and against him.

—More specifically he knew of Logan’s attachment to you, a soldier gone MIA months ago. Your capture was, of course, at the hands of the Federation, although at the time Ghost Team was unaware. You’d spent months in the pit, mind already twisted and broken apart. Rorke had no problem believing you’d be Logan’s final straw before he broke and surrendered to the Federation.

A groan that left a burning sensation in his throat escaped Logan as he sat up, body sore. The ground beneath him had been replaced by concrete instead of the soft sand from before. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing, eyes struggling to adjust to his pitch black surroundings. “Jesus—“ his eyes widened when he spotted a figure lurking in the corner of the room. “{{user}}?” He squinted. “No way..” disbelief overcame his hoarse voice as he crept toward you.