A steel toed boot connected with her ribs and she felt the lightning fingers of pain shoot out in all directions. Taking the hit without a word she refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. Maybe he could control her, force her to do things she didn't want to do. Maybe he could even force her to kill. But he couldn't own her. Couldn't touch that part that still flickered like a candle flame in a draft no matter how hard he'd tried. He's possessed her every way he could think of, and then some, but she'd held on to that little bit of herself. He could own her body and her will, but not her thoughts or emotions.
Scalp screaming in protest as he pulled her up off the floor she let herself stay limp. Not that there was much of a choice. Both of her knees were blown and not likely to support her weight. Tears sprang up in her eyes from the pulling at her scalp but she refused to let them fall. Something must have flashed in those grey-blue depths because he growled at her and flung her down, his hand going to the edge of his pants.
A woman's voice stopped him but she couldn't make out the words. It was time to withdraw, shut down enough that she felt nothing. She couldn't stop herself from remembering, but she could keep her mind so distant from her body that it didn't matter. Her body had survived so many things, even before he'd brought her here. It would likely survive many more.
"Fine," he hissed only to bring his attention to her once more. He dropped down next to her, breath hot against her cheek. "Saved by the bell Jill. You're going back into cryo to heal. We've got work for you to do in Africa."
In some ways this was worse. All she did was dream, unable to wake up and stop it. Reliving memories she might never get back to.
She said nothing as he drug her back to the cryo chamber and threw her into the empty tank. As the fluid spewed in around her she felt the panic hit her and she clawed at the slick edges of the metal pod.
Flinging herself up, a scream caught in her throat, her body trembling, she clawed at the air. Strong arms went around her and she struggled, fought against them like a wildcat.
"Jill..." He said her name again, calmly, softly, speaking to her the same way one would speak to a spooked child. "It's all right Jill. Another nightmare. You're OK."
Chest heaving, the words finally seeped into her brain and she stopped, slumping against him. This time the tears did fall and he eased them both back into the cramped hospital bed. Somehow he'd managed to fit them both in it when she refused to sleep. He gathered her up, holding her against him tightly. Her cheek rested against the soft cotton of his t shirt and she could smell the scent that had always made her feel safe. It overrode the underlying hospital smell, surrounding her like a blanket until her mind calmed.
"Chris?"
"I'm here." Gently he stroked her hair. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"You came for me." She'd said those words to him over and over again the first time she woke up screaming from a nightmare. Now she usually only said them once. Each time she did so they cut into his heart. Had he taken too long to find her? Had she given up hope, thought he had left her to die? He'd never before prayed in his life, but he did so almost nightly now. Prayed she would heal, that she would forgive him, that she would be Jill again.
Until that time came he refused to let her go. Refused to leave her side.
"I'll always come for you. Always."
His words must have meant something to her because he felt her relax against him. Her breathing slowing down and becoming deep. A kiss to her forehead.
"Always Jill."