A/N: This is a rather dark, graphic chapter. It jumps back and forth between what is going on, and what happened while Simonne was missing.
Etienne didn't exactly sleep. He sat on the couch, dozed occasionally, but he couldn't settle enough to try to lay down. He would not have been shocked to discover that neither Richard or Emma could sleep either.
So it was that he was able to hear the light tapping on his door around three o'clock in the morning on Christmas eve.
He hurried to the door and opened it, a cry of shock escaping when he saw Simonne. Her face was bruised and bloody, eyes swollen nearly shut, lips split open. Her clothes were torn, and her could see bruises along her neck. She held her left arm awkwardly against her body, and she seemed to be placing most of her weight on one leg. Before he could ask where she had been, what happened, who did this to her, she pitched forward into Etienne's arms, unconscious. Not sure what else to do with her, he dragged her to her bedroom and heaved her up onto her bed. She gave a cry when her left arm was jostled, but she didn't regain consciousness. Etienne looked her over and was shocked and frightened when he realized the insides of her legs were streaked with blood.
He ran immediately for the phone.
"Louis? It's Etienne. Yes, I know it is very early on Christmas eve, but it's an emergency. It's Simonne...she's...I think she's...please, just come over and examine her. And hurry."
"Richard? It is Etienne. Simonne is home...no, I do not zink she is alright. My friend Louis, he is a doctor, and he is on his way to look at her...I am going to call Emma. Go by her hotel and bring her here."
"Emma? It is Etienne. Simonne is home. I just spoke with Richard. He is going to come by to get you, then you are both coming here. No...she...she has been hurt badly, Emma," and here Etienne had to choke back a sob. He hung up the phone and tried to compose himself, then got a bowl of warm water and a rag and took them to Simonne's room, where he began gently cleaning some of the blood from her face. He was so afraid of hurting her more that he did nothing more than clean the worst of it. Then he sat at her side, holding her right hand and quietly weeping for her until there was a knock on his door. It was Louis, a man he had known since their earliest days in school.
"Thank you for coming over," Etienne said as he led Louis to Simonne's room. "She was missing all day yesterday, and suddenly there she is. I think she's been...there's blood, Louis...so much blood."
"Calm down, Etienne," Louis soothed. "I will take a look. Please get me some warm water and clean rags."
Etienne fetched the water and rags, and had intended to stay near to hand in case Louis needed anything else, but as his friend cut away the ruins of Simonne's clothing, and Etienne beheld the damage that had been done to his sister's body, he had to run to the bathroom to be sick. Bites, bruises, burns, blood covered her body. Etienne washed his face with trembling hands and stood leaning over the sink for a long moment. He felt sick and angry and murderous and completely helpless. He had no idea what to do now. This could not go unpunished, but he didn't know how to go about that. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He would figure that out later. He went back to Simonne's room and peered through the door only at Louis' back.
"I don't think you want to watch me work, Etienne. Whoever did this was certainly not kind to her."
"Will she be alright?"
"I don't know."
Etienne walked away, closing the door gently behind him. It wasn't long after that when Richard and Emma arrived, looking exhausted and worried, and in Richard's case, close to killing something. They went into the kitchen and sat down, Etienne made coffee while he filled them in with what few details he had. And then they waited for Louis to finally emerge from the bedroom, which he did after an unbearably long time, looking pale, tired and shocked. He gratefully took the cup of coffee Etienne offered and sank into an empty chair, placing a bundled, bloody rag in his lap. Louis knew the three people staring at him were eagerly awaiting him to speak, but he took his time gathering his thoughts because he honestly did not want to talk about the state Simonne was in. But finally, he had too, because Emma asked "Is she alright?"
Louis looked at Emma, then Richard, and then turned to Etienne and spoke in French. The two men conversed for a moment, and then Etienne said, "Emma, Louis zinks zat, perhaps you would be best served to leave ze room. Ze details are...disturbing, and he is not wanting to upset you."
"I appreciate the concern," Emma said. "But I'm already upset, and I'm not exactly a wilting flower. I think I can handle it."
Louis nodded and began talking, starting with the broken left arm and going from there. As he listed Simonne's injuries, and gave his speculation of how she came by them, Emma felt the color drain from her face. And when he opened that bloody, bundled rag and began showing them what he had pulled from up in side Simonne, Emma had to run from the room, her hand held over her mouth.
"You are Richard Harrow?" Louis said to Richard. Richard nodded. "Whoever did zat to Simonne, it seems zey did not like finding zis on her." Louis tossed something at Richard, who caught it and looked at it carefully. It was the dog tag he had given Simonne.
"What do you, mm. Mean?" Richard asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Louis licked his lips and kept his eyes on the table top. "Zey...zere are burns on her chest, zat exact shape and size. Zere is one, here," he tapped the center of his chest "zat...you can clearly read most of your name and rank. I can not imagine how hot zey had to have had it..."Louis shook his head although he would never quite shake free of the images. "Zen zey...shoved it...inside of her..." Richard listened with growing horror as Louis continued. He could feel himself falling into the cold, calculating mode that had made him so very valuable to Jimmy. It wasn't a rage, in fact, Richard really felt nothing beyond the need to make whoever did this to Simonne dead.
"...and assuming no infection sets in, I zink she will survive," Louis was concluding. "Mais, I do not know what zis will do to her, mentally. I can not imagine she will be right in ze head after zis. I am only speculating on what has happened. I am afraid ze truth is much worse."
Louis left instructions for tending Simonne, promised to return to check on her later in the day, and gathered up his things. Etienne saw him to the door.
"Again, thank you for coming over," Etienne said quietly as they stood in the hallway. "And for doing what you could for Simonne. I really appreciate it."
"I only wish you had not needed to call me. Do you have any idea who might have done this to her?"
"I think it might be Pierre Dubois...Papa and Marie arranged for Simonne to marry him. It was announced at dinner the other night. The last time I saw Simonne, she was leaving with him, so they could go 'share the news with his family'."
"I do not think he was the only one there, Etienne. There are at least three different teeth marks on her." Louis felt horrible for his friend, even worse for his friend's sister, and if he was completely honest with himself, almost regretted answering the phone this morning. He squeezed Etienne's arm, promised to stop by later, and went on his way. Etienne went back into his apartment. He found both Richard and Emma in Simonne's room, looking down at her. Emma had tears rolling down her cheeks. Richard could have been a mannequin for all the emotion he displayed, but Etienne had a feeling that deep inside, Richard was seething with rage. After all, if Monsieur Harrow was willing to kill Etienne over the thought that he had maybe slept with Emma, what would he do to the men who quite obviously abused Simonne?
Truthfully, Etienne hoped that what ever it was, it was painful and bloody.
"So who is this PFC Richard Harrow?"
"I bet he's her lover!"
"Got a soldier boy lover, do you, little ballerina?"
"An American one at that."
"What, think you're too good for a French soldier?"
"She probably thinks they're all fagots like her brother."
"Are you in love with this Richard Harrow? Is that why you're wearing this? To keep him close to your heart? Here, let's see if we can make sure he stays there..."
Simonne had sworn she wouldn't scream. But she did scream, until she was unable to scream anymore. After that she could only hoarsely cry, beg and plead for them to stop.
"I bet you like your American soldier boy up inside of you, don't you, you little whore? Well, since you like him inside of you so much..."
Emma was sitting at Simonne's bedside. Richard had left the apartment, saying he needed fresh air and a few moments to think. Emma had nodded, understanding. She could hear Etienne moving around in the living room, at a loss for what to do at this point. She understood that, too.
Simonne stirred slightly, whispered something that Emma couldn't make out, and settled once more as Emma place her cool hand on Simonne's forehead.
The tie was around her neck, pulled tight, forcing her head back. She could barely breathe. One of them shoved into her from behind. Another knelt in front of her and forced himself into her mouth. She bit down. That earned her a smack across the face that had so much force behind it she was knocked onto her side.
"Hey!" the one who had been behind her cried. "What the hell are you doing? I was in the middle of something."
"The bitch bit me!"
Someone grabbed her ankle and dragged her across the floor. She tried to fight, but that only resulted in a kick to the ribs. She thought one of them might have cracked.
Someone else was on top of her, using her. She opened her eyes as much as she could and made a point to memorize his face. She made sure to memorize all of their faces.
Richard walked. He had to do something to try and burn off some of the pent up rage that was coursing through his body. The anger he had felt the other day when he thought Etienne had taken advantage of Emma was nothing compared to the anger that burned inside of him like molten fire at the moment. It was so intense it made his head pound. He was completely unaware that people seemed to leave a wide space around him, so intense was the aura of menace surrounding him.
He had gone into his cold, detached killing mood when Louis had described the horrors that had been inflicted upon Simonne, but seeing her laying there so bruised and battered that she was nearly unrecognizable had taken him beyond that murderous calm and into a torturous rage that would only be sated by the complete annihilation of the men who had been so cruel to her. Richard intended to skin them alive, chop them into tiny little pieces, pull out their teeth, cut of their cocks and shove them so far down their throats they choked, shove glass shards under their finger nails, make them scream a thousand times for every hurt they had inflicted upon Simonne. And then maybe, if he was feeling merciful (which was highly unlikely) he would shoot them, although dumping their still breathing remains into the river seemed a fitting option as well. The fiercest punishment Hell had to offer would seem like a vacation compared to the justice Richard would visit upon them.
"See, gentlemen? I'm a nice enough man to share."
"Very generous of you. Hope we didn't break your new toy."
"I'm sure she's fine. Besides, I just need her long enough to get control of her father's company, then I'll get rid of her and get a new one."
They thought she was unconscious, in truth she nearly was, but her left arm was pulsating with pain (not that the rest of her body wasn't, but her left arm was bent at such an unnatural place halfway between her elbow and wrist). There was a ringing in her ears, but the men weren't very far away, nor were they speaking quietly.
And so she listened, very carefully, and put the pieces together.
And she swore if she survived, she would kill them all.
