This is a Dark Fic, an AU Story to Jericho.

From: Shadowflame77

Warnings: Angst, hints of slavery, rape and torture, strong language.

It fits into the timeline of S1, E16 "Winter's End" and is written out of Maggie's POV.

I know, it is not nice to read something like that... but... we never learn what really happens to Heather in New Bern and I think the show was "to nice" in some things... when I look at what people are doing in war zones... civilisation is a construct which only works when everything is well balanced...

And so... well... my muse seems to be willing to dive into that topic.

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Jericho or one of its citizen...

Please - let me know if you like (or dislike ;) ) what you read - reviews are highly welcome and the fuel for my muse!

Constantino's Pet

Finally - there she was again…

Maggie breathed softly a sigh of relief.

She was late today, which had made Maggie fear that she already had left town.

The cold, harsh light of the low winter sun scarcely filtered through the few, stained glass windows of the old brake factory in New Bern.

Maggie raised her head slightly at the sound of the opening doors and tried to avoid the attention of her vigilantes, her eyes following the slender woman and her escort entering the assembly hall and passing by like every day since she was forced to work here.

Folding automatically the heaps of clothing she had piled up earlier without so much as looking down at her hands, Maggie's attention never wavered from the group of persons pouring into the hall in front of her, consisting of a brunette, a little girl and two deputies accompanied by a huge gush of freezing air and some isolated snowflakes.

Anticipating the usual aura of strength and determination emanating from the woman, Maggie sensed immediately that something was different today.

It took her a moment to realize that something was wrong.

Appalled, it looked like the small brunette had lost her self-confidence and determination, which she had radiated every day since Maggie was caught in this damned town.

This bubble of strength had been the reason why Maggie had become aware of that woman – she had always seemed so cheerful and untouched by the horror surrounding her; like she would live in another world.

Maggie admired her for this capability. She yearned each morning for the moment when the other woman would come to work so that she could draw some strength from her.

Just knowing that there still was one woman out in this world who seemed to be unscathed - especially here in this hell - gave her the needed small dose of hope which was her lifeline to get through the day, to endure…

But she had wondered ever since...

Didn't she know? Couldn't she see what was happening in this town, to the people around her? Or did she just not care?

Maggie had cocked up her ears and had picked up some rumors.

The name of the brunette was Heather Lisinski. Originally born and raised here in New Bern, she had left town a few years ago after her father's death and had become a teacher in the neighbor town Jericho.

Jericho. Maggie gulped down tears.

She had been so dumb! If she just had taken Jake's offer, it would have been her salvation and none of this would have happened to her… he had seemed like a nice guy, and if his easy demeanor and the kiss he had given her had been a glimpse of his true nature she would now be safe and sound at his side, for sure… he even had tried to help her after he had found out what she had done… and Jericho for itself had been the first town on her troubled journey that had been ok, that still had law, strong leaders and citizens taking care of each other.

In Jericho a woman was still a respected person, whilst in most of the regions she had passed a woman was only good for cooking, working and… for being obedient in bed.

The haggard looking young woman shook herself back into reality. It was too late to dwell on what she and the others had done in Jericho and that she might have had a future in that town if she hadn't been part of the fraud.

She sighed soundless and picked up her train of thought.

So some weeks ago Heather had suddenly returned to New Bern, to build something in this old factory.

Constantino had heard her out and had agreed.

That's what the townsfolk knew so far. What the terms were for that agreement – nobody knew.

But it seemed like Heather really did not know what was going on in New Bern, she was too occupied with the engineering of whatever important thing she was working with, obviously having her head full with construction components and structural designs.

For surely she didn't know that she had willingly caught herself in Constantino's web, did she?

Heather was shielded from all and everything, even living in Constantino's cabin, under his so called "protection". She was never alone, always accompanied by Constantino's Deputies and his witch. She came only in contact with the few men she was working with. She was living under complete surveillance, like a bug pinned with a needle, scrutinized by a magnifying glass.

She had brains and whatever special skills Heather had it made her important and invaluable for the Sheriff, so he never let her out of his sight, and if he did he sent his goons and / or his witch with her.

Whatever she thought, whatever he had promised or agreed on - he would never let her go.

Heather might be her name, but the townsfolk just called her Constantino's pet – because she was cared for, fed, protected, "walked like a dog" – and utterly at Constantino's mercy, just like a dog would be.

And knowing Constantino it was only a matter of time when she would do something wrong and would get punished by the arbitrarily towns leader – just like a disobedient pet.

Maggie shied inwardly away from what this would mean for Heather, if that day came.

She knew what Constantino did to women, she had seen the results, she had witnessed it, had heard the stories whispered under tears and with broken voices… and she had experienced it first hand. Her hand fluttered up to the burnt skin on her stomach and hips, tears prickling her eyes.

And Heather had not even a clue about the nick name she was given. She just walked in here every day, full with energy and worked on whatever she was working 'til late in the night. Maggie guessed that she was at the moment too important for Constantino to treat her like he would do with any other woman falling in his grasp.

The question was what would happen when Heather ever outlived her worth to him? Hopefully for her that day would never come…

But now, when she put two and two together it looked like it just did, because something was terribly wrong with Heather.

As far as Maggie knew today was a special day.

The piece – a windmill or turbine or something like that - Heather had been working on had been finished yesterday and it had been readied to be shipped out to Jericho today.

Heather was supposed to leave with it.

Maggie had been keen on seeing the strong woman for a last time, drawing as much comfort from her sight as possible, being reminded of freedom and respect, being reminded of Jericho.

Now something obviously had changed.

Heather's hair was unkempt and she looked sick, was even trembling.

Strain was evident in her posture and her determination was replaced by wide-eyed fear, the way her eyes were darting around showed clearly that she was terrified.

Her lower lip was swollen and bloody, she nursed on it unknowingly which made her look so much younger, like a hurt, forlorn child.

Heather held so tight on the small hand of the skinny girl at her side - maybe six or seven years old, with supposedly olive, but now pale, unhealthy looking complexion and ruffled, black curls - that her knuckles shone white in the dust filled twilight of the hall.

Frowning in concentration Maggie remembered that she had seen that girl before, first with other half-starved kids out in the streets, begging for food and water and now for the first time in Heather's company, who obviously never let the kid out of her sight, holding her close like she was trying to protect her.

Maggie swallowed.

All these cues and the fact that this time Heather was walked away from her usual working place, that she was guided deeper into the shadowy entrails of the old factory – in the restricted area no one of the workers here was allowed to get near – just showed that finally the time had come, even for Heather…

Constantino got to her, had lashed out on his pet. He had revealed his true nature.

With another rush of arctic wind a fifth person entered the mill, closing the distance to Heather with just a few long, catlike strides, immediately invading her personal space and made her flinch.

There she was – Constantino's Asian witch, breathing down the Brunette's neck and smiling her wicked, gruesome smile, fully knowing that she must scare the woman and the girl witless… and enjoying every second of it…

Fighting hard against her own overwhelming aversion against that menacing wretch, remembering how easy and merciless that woman was at inflicting pain, what she actually had DONE just like that to one of the men who had laid hand on Maggie the first day she had been imprisoned here, Maggie involuntarily sucked in a sharp breathe and staggered backwards.

The Asian called herself Lizzy and she was Constantino's right hand … the names she got from others were "evil witch", "bitch from hell" and some other, even more unpleasant terms.

All feared her, even Constantino's ruthless slugs forwent her widely if possible.

A heavy blow between her shoulder blades snapped Maggie out of her thoughts and memories and made her stumble forwards, stifling a yelp of pain in the very last moment.

"Stop dreamin', start workin', bitch! 'side you're dreamin' of me, then come 'n get some…" one of the men snarled, gripping his crotch and performing some significant hard thrusts into his hand, making the other goons erupt in harsh laughter and approving whistles.

Nausea washed over Maggie and she fought hard to bite it back, suppressing the shudder coming along with the goose bumps on her skin, immediately lowering her glance to the task at hand – sorting through the stuff the thugs had brought in from burglaries and raids on the streets out there.

She had already learned the hard way what these men were up too and would do everything – really EVERYTHING! - to avoid another round of unwashed bodies violating her.

Maggie banished forcefully each thought of the now broken looking Heather out of her mind and worked her way methodically through the piles of foreign people belongings, ignoring that some of them were blood stained.

More men arrived and hauled the different windmill parts out of the hall, loading a truck and finally drove away, in direction of Jericho.

Without Heather.

Maggie sighed and felt pity for the other woman, but didn't dare to turn her head to look down the aisle where Heather had been taken an hour earlier.

She was no longer the shining Joan of Arc riding into the factory each morning… no salvage nor solace would come from her…

Heather was now just another broken toy waiting to be played with, like Maggie and the other women clinging to life in this hellhole… she was not worth to spare more thoughts on.

Maggie tried unsuccessfully to convince herself of that, because she needed that little ember of will to live and sanity which was left for her, to somehow fight on, to endure… she couldn't afford to spend it for yet another lost cause…

She grabbed the next pair of trousers and skimmed through its pockets, removing a wallet and some loose cash, throwing it into the basket behind her which already held several other billfolds and related, nowadays vile things.

If she got lucky and found something of worth maybe she would not be forced to work in the brothel this evening… maybe she would be allowed for once to sleep alone on the thin mattress in the small room she shared with two other women, or maybe she would "only" be chosen by one of Constantino's henchmen to warm his bed.

Getting the less bad thing out of two was all she was praying for these days…