This is my first SGU story so I hope you guys enjoy it. I would love comments and constructive criticism!
He didn't do it. He's well aware how childish that thought is but he didn't do it and he shouldn't be punished for it. Someone stole food from the kitchen. Actually, he's fairly sure they just made up that as an excuse to punish him. Everyone hates him here and he wouldn't be surprised if they just made it up on purpose. "Please," he begs, pulling away as blow after blow lands on his battered body. His attackers just laugh cruelly, jeering at him as he cowers away. Soon he's on the floor, curled in an attempt to protect his vital organs as the master punishes him for something he didn't do.
"You deserve this," his master says, kicking him hard in the shin. He cries in pain but doesn't move his hands downward. If he does they will only kick him in the face. "You useless piece of…"
"I did it!" a shout comes forth. The kicks stop and so he's bold enough to move his hands away and peek up at the stranger. "It's my fault, not his." She looks to him like an angel, her blond hair catching the light as she argues with his tormentors.
"You took food from the kitchens?" they ask her incredulously. She nods but he can tell she hadn't even really know what he'd done until just now. And yet she is still protecting him. He's confused as to why a beautiful lady such as herself would help a wretched member of the lower class like him. He can't fathom that. All he knows is that she is the kindest most beautiful person he's ever meet and even if she doesn't succeed in helping him this once he will be forever grateful.
"I was hungry and got something to eat," she declares. "If I'd known it would be such a problem I would have waited for dinner." She is glaring at them, actually glaring. Most look chastised by her, bowing their heads and looking away in shame. His master doesn't. He holds his ground.
"Good to know," the man says, turning away from the angel to kick him in his currently uncovered face. He cries out and brings his hands up instantly, whimpering as he touches his now broken nose. And then the woman is there, shoving his master away and standing between them. "He's my slave and I can do with him as I will," his master tells the lady, obviously irked.
"I'll buy him," she declares and he feels his head spin. She wants to buy the scrawny no good slave? Confusion and hope tumble together inside him for surely this woman will be a much better master than his current one. His master laughs though and so do the other men. But then she pulls out a check, sprawls some amount on it, and hands it over. It must be a lot because his master stops laughing.
"He's all yours," the man consents, walking away with the others. He uncurls then now the danger is past and she bends down next to him, giving him a soft yet sad smile. He is completely in awe of her, looking up into her eyes as she regards him with kindness. She's the first higher up to ever do that and actually she's the first human who's done it in a really long time.
"Come on," she says, making him realize that he's keeping her waiting. He moves quickly to rise but it's too quickly and his head spins violently in protest. He lurches to the side only to be caught by two strong arms. He looks up into the face of his rescuer as she frowns down at him. "Let's take it slow," she suggest, concern written all over his face.
"Yes ma'am," he agrees, having no choice but to let her help him up. She doesn't seem to mind that she's helping one so beneath her, doesn't seem to mind that his tainted blood is now staining her clothes. She doesn't seem to mind that he has to lean heavily on her just to stay up nor that those they pass in the hallways stare and judge her as they walk toward wherever they are going. She does mind terribly when the doctor asks why he should be healed. She gives him several good reasons why and he quite likes the five she gives when the doctor gets really annoying. Soon after that he has been tended too and they are walking down the halls again until they get to a room.
"Go lay on the bed," she commands and he does as he's told, watching as she moves around the room. It only takes a second for him to realize that they are in the room she's staying in and he is laying on her bed. Fear overcomes him because he knows this is wrong, knows he shouldn't be in her bed. "Close your eyes," she requests and he realizes that she's going to change out of her clothes here in front of him.
"Yes ma'am," he agrees, shutting his eyes tightly and staying stock still on the bed. He wonders what she wants from him and why in the world she would bring someone like him into her room. He can't find a single reason and it bothers him. He can't find a reason for anything she's done, can't find a pattern. This means he won't be able to predict anything she does and if he can't predict her he's in trouble. Masters are always easier to serve when you know what to expect, what they'll do to you. It's easier to avoid pain if you know them. He gets the feeling he'll never get to that point with her and it terrifies him.
"I'm done," she tells him and he takes that as permission to open his eyes. She has changed into a t-shirt and jeans and she is now sitting in the only chair in the room, a book in her hand. She gives him a warm smile. "I'll order room service," she decides after a moment. He can't tell if she's addressing him or not so he doesn't move an inch. "You must be hungry," she says in that annoying tone of voice where he can't tell if it's a statement or a question. Therefore he doesn't know if he should answer or not. She regards him for an instant and he gets the impression that maybe he should respond but then she's talking again. "What's your name?" Well, at least he knew that was a question.
"Nicholas Rush ma'am," he responds instantly. She nods, taking it in.
"What do you like to be called?" she asks. He stares at here for an instant, confused. Half of his owners through the years have merely called him slave, and most of the others just called him Rush because they wanted to. None had ever asked his preference before and in fact he doesn't know what he wants to be called, at least not by higher ups.
"Anything you want ma'am," he replies. She sighs, giving him a look he can't interpret as she reaches for the phone, presumably to call room service.
"Think about it," she tells him as she looks up the number. So she really wants to know what he wants? He doesn't understand it at all. "What do you want to eat?" she quires. He stares at her with even more shock and thinks vaguely that he should be dead from electrocution by now. "Wait," she says before he can respond. "Let me guess. You'll eat anything I want you to ma'am," she states. He has absolutely no idea what to say to that. She sighs. "I'll just order pizza," she decides before dialing the number. He listens as she requests the food, talking just as politely to these real people as she does to him.
"Nicholas ma'am," he states when she gets off the phone. She had said she'd wanted a name so he gave it to her. She smiles at him, seemingly overjoyed by his response. What, had she thought he wouldn't respond? He had to or he'd get in trouble, right? Confusion sweeps through him as she regards him. She frowns then and he begins to wonder why it seems that she can read him like an open book. No one else has before besides one person. Maybe it's just that no one else ever paid enough attention or cared enough.
"Nicholas, I want to try to help you," she states. She wants to help him even more than she already has? He can't even understand why she helped him in the first place and now she wants to do more? It makes absolutely no sense. "We'll get there," she mutters to herself. He isn't quite sure what she means by that but he knows it's in reference to him. "Do you need anything?" she asks him then.
"No ma'am," he answers instinctively. Slaves never need anything from their masters. She just keeps looking at him though and he realizes she knows that answer was reflex and she is waiting for a real one. Well, he's hungry, thirsty, tired, and injured but she's already tended to his wounds and asked him what food he wanted so he can safely assume he'll get a slice of pizza. Hopefully she'll give him water with the food and let him sleep one he's done eating. "Not at the moment ma'am," he amends. She nods, satisfied with that statement.
"Now I'm going to read until the food gets here," she says, settling back into the chair and opening the book. Staring at her would be impolite and the rest of the room is boring so he closes his eyes, intent on trying to sort out everything that happened to him today. Only he's more exhausted than he thought and he's never slept on so comfy a bed. He's fast asleep in mere moments.