Disclaimer: Not my characters, alas.
A/N: Thank you delgaserasca for the beta. Lyrics are from KT Tunstall's Other Side of the World.
All the muscles tighten in her face
Buries her soul in one embrace
They're one and the same
Just like water
Ros does not love Adam Carter.
She does not love him, but it is his face in her mind as she sits strapped to the chair, water dripping from the pipe above her.
Plop. Plop. Plop. On and on, and Ros thinks she's losing her mind. None of the training in the world can prepare a person for the real experience of torture but Ros is strong, Daddy always said. She's his strong, brave girl and she will not give in. She can't crack, won't crack, won't let them see that this is getting to her.
Adam will take her death personally; she knows what he's like.
Plop.
He's exactly like her. Ros cannot bear to think she's failed someone. The team failed Zaf and now she's here, and any minute now someone's going to come in and kill her. And it will not be the team who has failed her, not really. She knew she was alone but she told Adam, and Adam will take the fault upon himself.
Plop. Plop. Plop. No one comes and the water doesn't stop.
Ros thinks of her father, thinks she's failed him too. There was a choice between him and her country, and her conscience, and she followed her conscience.
Plop.
She's never liked water, not even as a little girl, and certainly not that day on the Thames barrier. She'd been certain she was going to die but somehow Adam opened the grate.
Adam's not here to save her now.
She wasn't ready to die then; she's not ready to die now.
Plop. Plop.
His hands on her skin, mapping the planes of her body. Looking at her through the water, pulling her up towards him.
His hands on Ana's skin, mapping the planes of her body. Looking down at her, smiling.
Ros squeezes her eyes closed to get rid of the image and she tells herself she is not jealous of Ana. Ana is a spoilt, bored diplomat's wife who was seduced for her country's secrets. She means nothing to Adam.
Ros tells herself she is not in love with Adam.
She is not.
Plop.
Not even a little bit.
Plop.
Tears spill from her eyes, burning down her cheeks and she tastes salt.
Remembers the heat of Adam's body against hers, the salt of his skin where she kissed him.
Not—
Maybe just a little bit.
Plop.
She breathes in deeply, trying to remain calm. She cannot let them see her break. She is Daddy's strong, brave girl who never cries, who never shows her fear.
Breathe, Ros.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
Breathe. In. Out. Plop.
She is not in love with Adam. She is not in love with anyone. She is not afraid.
Ros concentrates on these three thoughts, timing them with the dripping water. Not Adam. Plop. Not anyone. Plop. Not afraid. Plop.
Tells herself these lies until she believes them, and when Magritte steps into the light Ros looks at her and feels nothing.
"Oh. It's you."