A/N: My first Prison Break fic! I've been a little adventurous lately and have been jumping around shows and characters in my past few stories, and this scene popped into my head as I watched the episode 'Blow Out'. I've been fond of Gretchen since she first joined the show, so I thought it was about time I wrote a fic about her. So, hopefully you'll enjoy! :)
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Gretchen slowly shut off her shower, ending the wonderful cascade of warm water down her back. It had felt nice, taking a shower. She hadn't had the luxury of it since she'd been taken captive weeks ago by The Company. She rested her head against the cool tile wall as she took in a much needed deep breath. She hadn't been able to relax in even the slightest bit for the past few weeks, and it felt somewhat comforting to just take a moment to slow down and catch up with herself.
She took a few minutes to just breathe deeply with her eyes closed before she exited the shower, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as she did so. The sight of it caused her to gasp in revulsion. She looked like hell, to put it kindly. Angry red scratches covered her chest, shoulders, and arms. Ugly purple bruises were beginning to form on her face, replacing the painful cuts that littered her once perfect complexion.
She pursed her lips and scrunched her face in a moment of self pity, trying to fight back the pathetic tears that suddenly welled in her eyes. It had been years since she'd allowed herself to cry. It was all due to the basic training that had been engrained into her brain since the first day she'd gotten caught in The Company's sticky web of deception. She'd trained herself well, and rarely succumbed to the physical abuse she'd endured over the years. However, she hadn't been quite as successful with the emotional turmoil that roared inside her.
Yes, of course she'd learned how to effectively hide her emotions from others. She wouldn't have been able to survive for this long had she not learned that trick from the start. And physical threats hardly had an effect on her anymore. Having a gun held to her head wasn't nearly as frightening as it was when she'd first started out. No, the emotional turmoil she experienced when she has alone was far worse than the various forms of physical torture she'd been put through. And the fact that she was more scared of herself than of anyone or anything else was more terrifying than anything else she'd ever faced.
She ran a hand over her face, as if the action itself could wash away the evidence of the troubled life she'd led since joining The Company. The wounds were all just another day at the office to her. Her fingers massaged the angry red and purple marks that covered her face, testing them to see how serious they were. Thankfully, though, most of them seemed rather superficial. They would heal in a few days, a week or two at most, and until then she could hide them with makeup. Yet another trick she'd learned early on.
But, as her mind raced on with her plans for the future, her eyes continued to watch the beaten and broken woman that appeared in the bathroom mirror. She looked drained, as if life itself was dragging on too painfully for her to endure. And, without the guise of her carefully controlled emotionless face, this woman looked fragile and vulnerable, things that Gretchen despised with a passion. But, even still, as she continued to watch this stranger in the mirror, she felt her emotional walls begin to slowly crumble. Sure enough, within a few minutes those dreaded tears have finally spilled over. And they come too quickly for her to stop them.
As her tears freely flow down her cheeks, she feels the rest of her body and mind grow weak. She gently sits down on the edge of the bathtub as she lets out her first quiet sob. The noise is foreign, yet vaguely familiar to her as it fills her ears. She can't help but allow all her troubles to flow out of her through the tears that have unwillingly come, and once again all the regrets and troubles of her life wash through her like a flood.
She wept her first tears for Emily, the child who would never know who her mother really was. Gretchen wept for the poor child who would grow into a woman, and eventually a wife and mother, whose life would slip by unseen by Gretchen's piercing blue gaze. Would she have children of her own? Would Gretchen ever set sight on her grandchildren? Would she even live to hear of the next milestone in her abandoned daughter's life? The hot tears burned painful paths down her cheeks as she pondered the questions that she had forced out of her mind at her daughter's birth. They were just too difficult to ask.
She wept her next tears for her sister, who would never understand the tumultuous life that Gretchen had chosen for herself. At times, Gretchen wished she could be like her sister. Live a normal life, with a husband and child and worry about the simple things in life instead of whether or not she would live to see another day. But how could she deserve a normal life after the things she'd done? Her sister was the one who deserved an explanation and an easier life, not the fugitive Gretchen who had chosen a life of crime.
She then wept for the horrible things she'd done. For the people she'd killed. For the people she'd tortured. The image of Sara Tancredi popped into her head, and she grimaced at the horrendous things she'd done to that woman back in Panama. There was always a part, however small, that existed in Gretchen's mind that questioned the things she did for The Company. Perhaps it was a small shred of conscious left in her mind, left behind from the eradication she'd been forced to perform once she'd first joined her employers. But, wherever the doubt originated, it was somehow always overpowered by the inhuman training that Gretchen had memorized. And this fact saddened her as her true emotions filled her.
Her tears began to fade as she finally took a look at herself. She didn't deserve even her own self pity, and that was something she'd been aware of her whole life. She'd trained herself to push these all too human emotions to the back of her mind, but now, in her weak and vulnerable state, she couldn't help but allow herself to be consumed by them. Part of her was always aware that she didn't deserve any of the pity she felt for herself, but that fact still didn't stop it from flooding through her.
She sat there for quite some time, fighting the raging emotions in her mind in quiet turmoil. In time, though, her cold and emotionless exterior began to return to its usual place. As the tears dried and her mind cleared, she once again found herself in the numb and blank state that always filled her before she set out to do The Company's bidding. But, now, as her aloof exterior returned, she felt no need to rejoin her former employers. She no longer felt a loyalty towards them, or anyone else in this world for that matter. And in that moment, she decided that from then on, she would work for herself only. It was a decision that was made in seconds, but she knew she would stick to for quite some time.
So, with her emotional breakdown once again under control, she absently redressed herself and cleaned up the mess she'd made in the bathroom. As she prepared herself to leave the bathroom, and eventually her sister's house, to return to the cold world she had to once again join, she caught one last reflection of her appearance in the mirror. She recognized the empty stare of the pair of cold blue eyes that gazed back at her, and she made a note to herself that this woman looked far more familiar than the train wreck she'd witnessed only moments ago.
And with her emotionless cover once again in place, the empty woman that was called Gretchen left the safety of the bathroom to rejoin the light of day. Still human, but disturbingly detached from humanity, she once again set out to complete the mission assigned to her. But this time, the mission was one simple thing determined by her own free will: exact her own revenge on The Company.
-End-