Adrien walked by and finished his rounds. His limp was not very well hidden, but he didn't care what the prisoners thought happened... he went back to his room and took off his suit. Putting it back in its case, he stood there in silence, letting the air hit the wounds on his legs. He winced as it did and gulped, running a hand through his hair in pain he limped over to his bed/cot thing and sat down hissing in pain and shooting back up. He covered his face with his hands for a moment.

Were his thoughts as he sat back down, slower this time. He gulped. Gues he wasn't sleeping tonight either.

Lynx knew it was his fault. Through and through. And he felt terrible for it- even though he tried to tell himself he shouldn't care. If only he had hidden it. Maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Either way, he couldn't be concerned with that right now. He thought quickly through what he had formed for an escape plan, blowing out a breath. Still, his mind traveled back to the tall, limping figure.

Adrien did not sleep. He barely moved, he barely even breathed. Everything hurt. If his legs even moved slightly pain would shoot up his legs... he hated it... No. No, he didn't. He wasn't allowed to hate it. He didn't. He deserved it. He got off duty. He actually wanted to cry, for once. He didn't have the comfort of the hoodie, and it killed him not to have the warm material on his body...

He told himself. He tried taking deep breaths, trying to keep his mind away from the pain. But it always went back to it. And it hurt... like hell.

When the sun finally rose, Adrien took a while to get up. Missing his first few laps of the prison. When Adrien did finally get up he just stood in front of his suit for a long... long time.

A voice jarred him from his haze and he quickly put on the suit, hissing as the pants touched his legs, but he didn't do anything to take them off. He limped out of his "room" and began his rounds, although he hid the limp better today.

Lynx barely slept for the guilt clawing at his throat. Try as he might to shove it away, it always came back. By the time he gave up, it was morning yet again. He had never been more thankful for the hoodie than those few hours, but he hated himself for it. He flinched slightly when the voice came from his pocket again, frowning. So, so cruel. And there was nothing he could do about it- it wasn't as if he could smuggle the Agent out. They were probably tracking him and it would be impractical anyway. He watched silently as he limped by again, giving a soft sigh

Adrien finished his rounds and was making his way by Nikolai's cell, when he saw a detective go over to Nikolai's cell and pulled him out. The detective looked at Adrien.

He was told by the Operators. He did, walking with the detectives brisk pace. Despite the strain on his legs. And the fact he could feel a trickle of blood seeping down said legs. They went back to the interrogation room. Great. Adrien went to the corner, per usual, and Nikolai was sat down, arm chained to the table, instead of the magnetic cuffs, and the detective sat across from him.

"You did not have the hoodie when you got here. So, I'll ask again, where did you get it?"

He asked in a harsh voice, which made Adrien, again, involuntarily flinch.

Lynx raised his eyebrows as he got yanked out of his cell, unamused by everything. He nonchalantly shoved the earpiece further in his pocket so the output couldn't be heard, tilting his head as he was lead away. "Is this for my weekly therapy sesh?" He mocked, rolling his eyes as he got set in the interrogation chair again. He didn't look once at the man in the corner. "God, do you guys let anything go?" He huffed, rolling his eyes. "If you want the truth, I stole it off a guard. He had it wrapped around his waist and I snatched it. Dumbass didn't even look up." He answered simply, inspecting his nails for a moment. "Wouldn't have had to if you kept your cells warm enough for human life." He chided, stretching.

Adrien shifted slightly, shrinking further into the corner. If they found out he gave a prisoner his hoodie, we'll, say goodbye to meals...

The detective scoffed and shook his head.

"This attitude is going to get you killed. The guards aren't allowed to have hoodies, where. Did. You. Get. It."

He asked roughly, in a growl of a voice.

Lynx rolled his eyes. "Then somebody wasn't doing what they were supposed to, where they? Sounds like a you problem if I ever heard one." He growled back. "Why don't you go put someone in their place for being out of dress code? I'm sure it's a heavy offense around here." He snarled, glaring at the man across from him.

Adrien watched helplessly as someone behind Nikolai came from the shadows and hit him on the head, pretty hard. It wasn't hard enough to knock him unconscious. But certainly enough to hurt him. A lot. Adrien had experienced that... a lot. It wasn't fun. The person stepped back into the shadows menacingly and the detective smirked.

"So, wanna try again?"

He asked smugly.

Adrien hated this. It was all to familiar to him. And the Operators knew it. It was a judt as much a reminder to Adrien as it was a wake up call for Nikolai.

Lynx was bristling one second, his ears ringing the next. He grunted as he got sent forward, barely catching himself on the table in front of him, forearms straining slightly. His vision blacked out for a second, and he blinked in disorientation, taking a deep, hard breath. He leaned back off the table slowly, lifting his eyes in spite of the pain. There weren't too many thoughts going through his head at the moment, but his autopilot kicked in real quick. "Yeah. I do." He nodded slowly, reaching back to rub his head for a moment. He blew out a breath. He was docile one moment, and then he spit directly in the mans face- his only defense at the moment. "You're gonna rot in hell, you little bitch." He hissed, licking his lips and glaring over his shoulder, waiting for retribution. He refused to be powerless in this situation. No matter what happened, someone was gonna get hit- and it wouldn't be him.