The Body in the Shed – Second Addition
More of the sadness… And all the feels… Please, again, if this offends you in any way, you really need to stop reading… I don't want to be the one breaking your heart in the end.. Okay? Just… Just stahp before you get hurt…
The Body in the Shed.
Pitch had his sack of useless, mostly dead potatoes, inspected upon arrival at the door of the camp. The guards knew him, but they said orders were orders. He understood, nodding and watching sorrowfully as a woman within the camp screamed.
Her child was being taken from her. Off to be killed… It must have been heartbreaking… The poor baby didn't even understand what was happening. He was too small to realize that he'd never see his mother again… Never see anyone again… These were his last moments and they were being twisted and broken into a horrifying scene.
He looked back to the guards as they handed the red sack back to him. Nodding with a small smile, Pitch began slowly walking through the camp. People looked up at him, eyes looking far too big for their thin, bony heads, as he walked and pleaded with him to save them. He wished he could… He had fought wars before. He knew that sometimes killing was necessary… But this… This was unlike anything he had ever seen…
Bodies littered the earth. Blood filled every pore of every puddle. Death sank through his flesh and rotted him from within.
Blocking view with his own frame, Pitch handed a prisoner one of the spuds. The man thanked him in quiet whispers, hurrying away with his food. He knew anything he had would help some of them survive. Finding a teenager curled against the wall, he offered him one as well. The brown eyed boy reminded him of the boy sitting in his house… Waiting for him to save his little sister.
Pitch gave out several more to the unimaginably thin people. But his general 'friend' found him and greeted him with an all-too cheerful smile. He clapped his shoulder and asked what the visit was for. Pitch lied and said he hoped to give them some food for the prisoners. His former friend laughed.
"Why would we need anything more? These people don't deserve anything," he had said. Pitch swallowed and didn't say any more. He just watched people scrambling to live.
Swallowing, Pitch said, "Actually, I was hoping you could take me to the lab… I… I wanted to see some of the experiments you've been doing…" It disgusted him to say it. He never wanted anything like this to happen to anyone…
The general led him through a dimly lit hallway filled with nurses and gurneys. He saw bloody gloves filling a trash can, and he tried not to see a young boy getting his fingers sliced open. He tried so hard not to see it… But the pain in the boy's face made him see it. He wished he could help him.
"C-couldn't you give him some sedatives?' he asked, pointing to the boy.
The general laughed. "And waste perfectly good medicine?"
Pitch swallowed again.
"It's been proven, though," he said, gaining his friend's attention, "that too much pain can cause a person to go into shock and die… Many of my comrades died of shock in battle… And… Well you wouldn't want them dying before… before…" He couldn't finish. It was too terrible to finish.
But the general grinned. "Why, Pitch, you're absolutely right! Can't find out if our tests worked if they're already dead! You always were a smart fucker!" Pitch cringed. The general went and ordered the nurse performing the gruesome operation on the boy to give him some painkillers.
The boy's wide green eyes thanked Pitch, but pleaded with him all the same. Pitch felt tears pull at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to help. Really he did. But what could he do…? He was already risking his life to save someone who might not even be here.
The general walked with Pitch again, his heavy books clanking on the concrete floor. Finally they reached a large room filled with tables full of crying children and adults. There were bleeding men and women lying on hospital beds, others sat with bandages wrapping around parts of their bodies. One woman was tied to a bed with IVs in her arms. She was screaming. From the color of the liquid, it was a safe bet they were emptying acid into her veins. Pitch had to avert his eyes.
"Well, this is it," the general said, smiling brightly, "Over to our left is our test group, and on our right is our control." Pitch quickly looked to the right. There were adults and children huddled there, each sobbing, and they watched the general fearfully.
Pitch scanned the faces. He spied several young girls. Three of them had brown hair. Squinting harder, Pitch tried to find a smidgen of resemblance to the boy he had rescued in their faces. One girl had matted brown hair that reached to about her shoulders, and she had big, scared eyes. Those were Jack's eyes… A different color, but they were his. That girl was Emma…
The general noticed him looking at the children. He grinned. "Any of them catch your fancy Pitch? I'd be happy to let you have one for a few hours… You always did like younger women, didn't you?" Pitch cringed. He had never even once implied that. This general was probably assuming Pitch was just like him.
Still, this was something he could work with… Pointing into the group, he said, "Um… Yes, actually the brown eyed girl there…" The general laughed brightly before jumping forward and yanking the terrified girl from the group. He dragged her off with him and led she and Pitch to a room. He told Pitch the door would be open for him and laughed, telling him to get in a few rounds for him.
"You aren't staying?" Pitch asked, hiding his hopefulness beautifully.
"No, no, I have other matters to attend to, like that shock issue you mentioned… Must go let the nurses know…" he said before closing the door.
Pitch waited until the loud clack of his boots faded before turning to the girl. She was curled far in the corner, absolutely terrified that Pitch actually meant to rape her.
Squatting down, Pitch offered her a small smile.
"Emma?" he whispered. She blinked, mouth making an 0 shape. He smiled a little wider. "Emma…"
"How do you know my name?" she demanded, still looking scared.
Pitch sighed a little with happiness. "I know your brother… Jack…" her eyes shone with recognition, but the fear never left her face.
"Where is he? Is he okay?" she asked, "You didn't kill him, did you?"
Inching closer, Pitch hushed her. "No, no, I didn't hurt him… He's alright… He's safe…" he whispered. She didn't look convinced. "I promise you, he's okay… He told me you were here… He wanted me to come save you…"
"How do I know you're not lying?" she asked, pulling in closer on herself when he extended his hand.
He sighed. "You don't…" he admitted. "You just have to trust me…"
Emma's eyes flicked from his hand to his eyes. She was nervous. That much was understandable. If a strange man came and knew his name, Pitch would be nervous too.
Pitch smiled a little. "Jack was more worried about you than himself… First thing he said to me… All he wanted was to find you…" he saw the small smile creep onto her face. "Wouldn't even talk to me unless it was about you…"
Emma let a tiny little giggle out. "That sounds like him," she said, smiling.
Frowning, she said, "I know how to tell if you're lying." Pitch nodded and waited for the test.
"He's my brother," she said, "so he should look exactly like me, right?"
"But he doesn't anymore," Pitch whispered, "His eyes had been died blue, and his hair has been burned white… From the tests they conducted on him here…"
"Was he the one they were supposed to be testing?" Emma asked, holding up her chin in a moment that in any other situation would have signified pride.
Pitch smiled. "No," he answered, "They wanted to test you first. Jack begged them to take him instead… So you would be safe." Emma's brown eyes widened, but her lips quickly cracked into a smile. Pitch wasn't lying to her. She knew now. And the trust was instant.
She stepped away from the wall, looking up into Pitch's face.
"How were you gonna get me out?" she asked. He sighed.
"Well, it's not ideal, but the only way I could think of it was to smuggle you out…" he set the sack down. "If I carry you out in this can you remain perfectly still and silent…?" She looked inside, frowning a little at the potatoes. But when he asked that question she looked back up at him and nodded.
Carefully they found a way to situate her, and Pitch began the treacherous trek back out of the camp. If the guards re-checked his bag they were done for. He prayed he would get lucky today. He absolutely prayed. If for no one's sake but Emma's. She had suffered through this enough. Her freedom was so close. He couldn't fail now.
The guards saluted him as he walked by, not bothering to check his bag a second time. They had seen its contents earlier. Once they were ten feet away Pitch let out a breath he had been holding since before he realized he was holding it.
Slowly crunching through the snow, the tall man walked to his house, unlocking the door quickly and stepping inside. He closed the curtains in the front and then went to the living room.
Jack looked absolutely terrified until he saw it was him. His whole being relaxed. Pitch smiled at him and set the sack down, opening the top.
When Emma's little brown head popped out Pitch felt overjoyed at seeing the way Jack's gaunt face lit up.
"EMMA!" he shouted, rushing forward and throwing himself into a tearful hug. Emma cried with him, hugging him like he was the most precious thing on earth. Pitch smiled and allowed them their reunion. How could he deny that?
Jack kissed her forehead, brushed her hair aside, kissed her again, and pulled her in close. His shoulders shook with happy sobs as he caressed the back of her head. He didn't care how tangled her hair was, he was running his fingers through it. He kissed the side of her head, letting his tears soak into her messy brown hair, while hers dripped into the thin fragments of his shirt.
"You're okay," he whispered, "You're okay… Thank God…" Emma nuzzled her face into his shoulder, clawing his back and refusing to let him go.
"Jack, I was so scared," she whimpered, "I thought you got caught… I thought you were dead…"
Jack made soft shooshing sounds as he stroked his hand up and down her back.
"It's alright, Emma… It's alright… I'm here… Big brother's here now…" he whispered, pressing his nose to the back of her neck and sobbing happily.
Pitch smiled fondly watching them embrace. It was obvious they loved each other very much. They were probably all they had now. Their parents were either dead or close to it. They were lucky they had made it…
Getting to his feet, Pitch went to his kitchen to get some food for the girl. She must have been hungry. She was thin as well, but not nearly so much as Jack. She was lucky she still had some baby fat. It was probably all that had sustained her…
Coming back out, Pitch wasn't surprised to find they were still in the same position as when he left. He set the plate of food down on the table and went about the house to close curtains and shades and blinds and whatever else covered windows. It took some time but it was finally finished.
Returning to the living room once more, Pitch was happy to find Jack sitting on the couch, Emma on his knee eating some of the food he had provided. Jack looked up when he heard him come back in and he smiled wide at him.
"Thank you," he said, tears falling from his eyes.
"Don't thank me yet," Pitch said, walking over and sitting near them on the couch, "We still have to get you two through this…"
"You brought her back," Jack whispered, sounding so overjoyed that his voice cracked, "You brought my sister back…"
Pitch smiled. "You asked me to," he whispered, watching as little Emma munched on a cookie. She apparently had a sweet-tooth.
Jack nuzzled Emma close to him. "Well, thank you," he said. Pitch only nodded and watched them. Jack was a wonderful older brother- comforting her like this. Keeping her safe… He had done so much more than almost anyone would have been willing to do… He sacrificed himself for her…
Looking the two children over, Pitch asked, "After this would the two of you like a bath and a change of clothes?" Emma looked at her brown, dirty knees and nodded almost immediately. Every part of their bodies was covered in dirt, mud, possibly dried blood, and dead skin. They needed a good scrubbing something awful.
Pitch let Emma finish eating and then he led them upstairs to his en-suite. Getting the tub ready, filling it with steaming water, he went and had the children pick out some clothes. None of his would fit either of them, but they could find some things, he was sure.
Emma found a long sleeved black silk shirt of Pitch's, and he took one of his ties and offered for her to use it as a belt. She was thin enough where it would probably work. Jack found some grey jeans and a thin black shirt. He said he liked the stitching on the shirt.
Once their outfits were ready the two went to the bathroom. Pitch didn't join them; he knew Jack could help wash his sister just fine on his own. Besides, it was probably best they get some more time to build back that bond. A few times he heard giggling and splashing, and that made him happy. Even after all this they hadn't lost that childhood innocence. These two really were lucky…
Sitting up, Pitch heard Jack call him after a while. Walking warily into the doorway, Pitch smiled at seeing Jack trying to brush Emma's hair out. Pitch smiled.
"I can't get the tangles, can you help?" he asked. They were already wearing their new clothes: the tie worked as a belt, as Pitch had guessed.
Smiling and shaking his head, Pitch squatted down, taking hold of the comb and carefully pulling it out of her hair. He took a bottle of conditioner that he actually never used and squeezed some into his hands. He ran it over the tangles and between some locks of hair a few times before running his fingers down through her brown locks. After a couple small tugs his fingers slid through and the knots were gone.
Jack watched, smiling happily as Pitch combed his sister's hair out. Pitch then took a bow-tie and tied her hair back, giving her a bow in her ponytail.
"You look so pretty Em," Jack said, rubbing her shoulder with a loving smile. She smiled back at him and ruffled his wet white locks.
Jack laughed and kissed her cheek. Pitch smiled at them and stood up. Jack quickly reached his hand out for him. The man squatted back down to their level.
"Yes?" he asked, expecting to have to help with something else. After all, they were still only kids, they couldn't do everything. They hadn't learned how to.
Jack smiled brightly, motioning Emma forward, and they each kissed Pitch's cheeks. Jack kissed the right, Emma the left.
Pitch blinked in surprise. Jack smiled. "We weren't sure how else to thank you," he said, grinning brightly, "But we thought that worked pretty well, right?" Emma nodded, smiling just as brightly as her older brother.
Rubbing his cheek, Pitch smiled warmly at them. "Yes, I suppose that's more than enough." Emma giggled. "Now come on, time for you two to get to bed… You've had a long day."
Jack lifted Emma into his arms and walked her to the bed. Pitch was giving them his bed- he knew they'd want to sleep together: it was only natural. Once the two were all snuggled into the blankets, he shut off the lights and left the room.
He spared one last glance over his shoulder, smiling fondly at his two little stow-aways. It was odd, but seeing them and taking care of them, Pitch felt like a father. And it was a wonderful feeling to have…