Disclaimer: I do not own Terra Nova. If I did, I would have released confirmation about a second season weeks (months) ago.
Chapter Warnings: Implications of attempted rapes
Jim remembers it every time he gets dirty, every time mud and dirt cakes his skin and sweat stings his eyes. He hates how it makes him feel suffocated and trapped.
It isn't so much getting dirty that he's...well, not afraid, but wary of, it's just being unclean. When his skin is dry and cracked, colored dull brown or vivid red...Jim can hardly stand it sometimes. But what really makes him wary is washing it off.
There's no control over the feeling that rises within him when he showers. Each time he expects the water to be ice cold and the smell of the shampoo to make him gag. The soap will sting and burn...his wounds need to be cleaned...but it hurts...it's going to get infected...
The bar of soap lands on the floor of the shower with a thud. Jim jumps slightly, saved from the memories fighting to surface. Fighting and succeeding, because Jim isn't willing to bend over and pick up the soap. Even though this is his own house in Terra Nova, his own, private bathroom, he wont. He just stands there and stares at it.
Remembering, of course. Because the memories are sometimes too hard to forget.
Back in Golad Prison, things were very constant. Lights on at six, you wonder if you get breakfast until noon-Jim could tell when it was noon because there was a guard who always patrolled pass his cell at noon-, then you sit there and wait until nightfall-again, there was a guard who always came around at the beginning of the night-and hope for food and water. Or water. Because having one of the two beat having neither. And then you become afraid, after the guard leaves. Because nighttime is when the true hell begins.
The nighttime guards are more malicious. They come to mock and to whip and punch and kick and spit upon you.
But it's not the beatings that are making Jim cringe with...not fear, but wariness. It's how he would get so dirty. There was typically bloodshed-his, not theirs, those lucky bastards. The blood combined with the dust and ash and dirt of his cell and the grease in his hair and sweat on his skin left Jim perhaps one of the most unclean beings on earth. In his opinion at least.
And then, if you were lucky, or unlucky, it could be looked at either way, you were allowed a shower every couple of weeks. Or was it months? Jim never really knew. They would grab you from your cell, whether it was the middle of the day or the middle of the night when you were sleeping and order you into the showers.
Jim never objected. He wanted to be clean.
Still, he wonders if being a little bit clean was worth the burn of that soap or the foul scent of the shampoo, or the humiliation of knowing the eyes of other men, both prisoner and guard alike, were on him, measuring him up for either the sake of their pride or because of their...less than honorable desires. And knowing that if one was to make a move, no one would stop them, and he would have to fight them off by himself. He did that a few times. Each time he was punished for causing a disturbance.
There was a knock on the door. Jim jumped again, though was calmed when it was his wife's voice that sounded through the door.
"Jim, sweetheart, do you plan on leaving us any warm water?" Elisabeth asked with a small laugh. He could just see her now: she's wearing her nicest pajamas and her dark hair is silky smooth. She's smiling, and that smile reaches her beautiful eyes. He just knows it.
He clears his throat before speaking, because she'll know that something wasn't entirely right if his voice wavers even the slightest bit.
"Sorry, but no, I don't plan to." he said smartly. He's rewarded with another laugh from Elisabeth.
"Alright, fine. But I'll be waiting in our room."
Honestly, Jim doesn't know what he'd do without Elisabeth. Probably stand there in the shower and turn into a prune. But for now, he'll just hurry out of the shower and lock his darker thoughts deep inside his mind. He'll deal with them...later.
The bar of soap is left on the floor.
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Vinculis Meis – My Chains
Allegedly, I'm pretty good at funny/dad kind of Jim. I want to go deeper than that (but there will be some humor here, as well as family moments, granted it may be a darker sense of humor. You have been warned.).
Speaking of warnings, if you are someone who generally skips authors notes but happens to just sort of be skimming through this-go back up to the top and read the warnings. Do that for every chapter. Vinculis Meis will touch some very serious, dark topics and I don't want anyone to taken off guard or be triggered. However, I do not imagine I'll write something terribly graphic-if I do and it slips by me, I apologize in advanced.
I would really appreciate some reviews, just sayin'. Yep. Reviews are always loved.
