A/N: I was so touched by this scene in the beginning of Release that I just had to expand on it. It was absolutely heartbreaking.
She was bruised. Battered. Broken. Every muscle in her body ached, every part of her hurt. Physically and emotionally. Wincing in the mirror as the clothes were slowly peeled off, she stared at the scars, the cuts, the bruises. Under normal circumstances, she would have been proud to wear them; they told of her deeds in battle, who she was: a slayer.
But not today. Not tonight. Tonight she had lost; tonight she had lost everything. Her spirit, her dignity, maybe even her will to live.
She stepped into the shower, letting the lukewarm water wash over her tired body. Standing there, her chest heaved up and down, the product of unshed tears and sobs. She would cry, but she was to broken to even attempt it. Instead, she turned to the tile lining the shower…and punched as hard she could, smashing a hole into the wall that became bigger and bigger the more power she put behind it.
Seething, she stopped, feeling no pain. No pain anywhere. Oh, it was still there; except now, it had turned to a dull ache. A dull ache that settled into her chest…and wouldn't let go.