"Bring me the food."
It was the first words Lexa had spoken in weeks, maybe even months. The words sounded wrong. It took effort to say them, and when she managed to croak them out, the words were harsh and hoarse, nothing like how her voice usually sounded. Her larynx must have been severely bruised by her treatment. Several days has passed since she was brutally subjected to force-feeding at the hands of her doctor. Her throat was swollen and her neck ached with every swallow. Part of Lexa wanted to starve herself still, just to spite the doctor. Fighting was never difficult for her. But them she remembered the desperate connection she clung to in the midst of her torture. How close she had come to losing her tether to reality were it not for the piercing gaze of sapphire eyes.
The same eyes that now looked up at her in surprise. The blonde had never heard Lexa's voice before, let alone had any interaction with her outside of eye contact (which, frankly, unsettled her enough as is). Her voice was rough, no doubt from the treatment the blonde assisted in. It brought her no pleasure, assisting in patient treatments. But a job was a job, and there were precious few available to women like her – young, poor, and left to fend for herself. The girl in front of her looked weak, skin pale and mottled from treatment and lack of sunlight, yet she straightened her back as if she were posed statue. Her chin was tilted up in a regal fashion, accentuated her sharp jaw and high cheekbones, now more prominent from her malnourishment. But even in the harsh lighting, the blonde knew the girl was beautiful. She nearly shivered when she met green eyes the color of fresh blades of grass. Eyes that were looking at her expectantly.
"What?"
"The food, bring it to me."
A pause. A stare.
"No," the blonde frowned. "It's three feet in front of you."
Lexa glanced down. She was sitting in the middle of her cot, back cushioned against the wall. Her legs were drawn up in front of her, her arms propped on knees as she hunched to get a better look. Sure enough, the girl had placed the plate of food on the ground in front of her. She could easily get up and reach it. But Lexa was angry. Her light was always on now, the sensory deprivation having been declared unsuccessful by her doctor. They'd started new treatment for her, some sort of electroshock therapy. Her body ached all over, and her body still twitched from residual spasms. Her mind was a mess. The excess electricity was probably inflicting stress on the chip. It was resilient enough to have lasted several centuries, but clearly that resilience was deteriorating. Lexa wasn't getting better, even though she had nothing to recover from. The light distracted her from sleep, and the chip wasn't helping. She had noticed her mood swinging more erratically these days, and today she was feeling and overwhelming sense of despondency and pettiness.
"I'm tired," Lexa sighed. "They tortured me today."
"I'm not to engage in conversation, Miss."
"Are they listening?"
"…No."
At some point in the conversation, the blonde had taken a seat in the wooden chair opposite Lexa's cot. They continued to stare at each other across the room, green mixing with blue, the tension unaffected by the distance. The blonde sat forward in the chair, her elbows on her knees and she palmed her hands together. Lexa watched her and didn't miss the crinkle of her brow and the twitch of her lip.
The blonde was conflicted. She never took any joy participating in treatments. The procedures were extreme in nature, unforgiving in execution, and unwelcomed by patients. It brought her no pleasure, assisting in patient treatments. But a job was a job, and there were precious few available to women like her – young, poor, and left to fend for herself. But this was science, or so the doctors say, and while her academic education was basic, her sharp intuition was inclined to revere a field that worked so akin to her mind. Science was clever and powerful. It manipulated nature to get results, and if the blonde had found any skill worthwhile in this harsh world, it was the ability to manipulate. There was proof behind the madness, or at least the doctors insisted. And it's not like the blonde knew any better way to rid a malaise that was clearly not microbiotic in nature.
"They don't torture you," the blonde whispered, her forehead still crinkled. "They're making you well."
"You weren't there," Lexa snapped, her voice edged with bitterness and anger. "Not this time at least." She let out a short cruel laugh that tapered into a growl. As pretty as the blonde was, she didn't forget that face staring, unmoving, as her body endured nightmares.
"Bring me the food," Lexa growled.
"No."
"How are they making me well?" Lexa demanded as blue eyes surveyed bruised arms and legs. "The injections never end, the shock treatments grow longer and more brutal. And the questions…"
Lexa pressed her right hand to her temple. Questions were buzzing all around her head. From her doctor. From the past commanders. Words, words, words – they never left her alone. The orderly glanced at her from her chair. She tipped her chin down, as if she were uncomfortable with what she had to say next.
"You're to begin other treatments tomorrow."
Lexa froze. Her fingers stopped massaging her temple as her body turned rigid. She turned to face the orderly, who was now looking down at the ground, unable to hold Lexa's stare.
"What are they?"
The blonde continued to stare at the ground. Silence permeated the room as Lexa waited for a reply. None came. Lexa grew frustrated.
"Bring me the food."
"No."
Blue eyes lifted up from spot on the metal floor to once again connect with green ones. The girl broke the stare and found a new space to look at on the opposite cushioned wall.
"Is it day or night?"
The question came out as a rasp, more vulnerable than Lexa had intended. The voice cracked towards the end of the sentence, which Lexa immediately attributed to her bruised larynx.
Another confused glance from the blonde. "Sorry?"
"The lights and there's no window - Is it day or night?"
Lexa's voice rose in pitch as the question left her, the desperation she had been trying to hold back leaking into her words. The period of uninterrupted brightness was ruining her perception of time, and her mind wasn't strong enough to fight her craving for darkness. Lexa cursed the chip. It was making her weak in front of the pretty girl. She bit her tongue to hold back unwanted tears.
"Which would you prefer it to be?"
"…Night."
"Then it's night."
"…Bring me the food."
"No."
There was a beat where neither of them moved. Then, slowly crawling onto her knees, Lexa slid and slinked off her cot onto the metal floor, not quite near enough to the plate of food. The orderly's eyes widened, her body stiffened at Lexa's movements. She tracked Lexa's body, warily assessing how much danger she posed as the blonde's grip on the chair tightened. Lexa slowly rose into a standing position, like a cobra rising before it strikes. She stood there, as proud and rigid as she could on her trembling limbs. She was far too weak from her treatments, but that wouldn't stop her from challenging the blonde. The girl frustrated her to no end. She seemed concerned towards Lexa's health, and yet she made not move to help Lexa or offer comfort during the force-feeding session. She believed in the treatments, and yet she spoke of them with dread. Was she a coward? Was she a fraud? Was she just like the doctors?
"I'll collapse," Lexa gasped, gauging the girl's reaction.
"No, you won't," the blonde affirmed, but her eyes locked on Lexa's body, waiting for a falter in her stance. The contradiction only spurred Lexa on.
"Bring me the food. Help me!"
"No!" The blonde stressed, establishing eye contact again. Even though her volume barely rose, there was a sense of finality in her voice. Lexa knew the food would remain where it was.
"I've seen you, watched you," the blonde continued, her voice a mixture of admiration and fear. "I know you're strong enough to get it yourself."
Silenced stretched between the two women. Lexa's legs continued to tremble, but she remained upright, her energy surprising even her. The girl was right, and Lexa felt strangely happy to find out that the girl had observed her well enough to know her limits. Lexa's eyes met the blonde's again, her head tilted forward till the light cast a shadow over her eyes.
"Do I scare you?" Lexa asked. "Do you pity me?"
The girl's eyes softened but did not break contact. Sapphire cooled to something warmer, the ocean maybe. But she didn't answer.
"What are the treatments tomorrow?" Lexa asked, softer than before.
The blonde shifted, breaking the stare to look back down at the ground. Her answer was barely above a whisper.
"They call it hydrotherapy."