So he did. He just sat there next to me while the nurse helped me. She helped me out of my clothes, took note of my injuries on her clipboard, and then started cleaning my wounds with a water and alcohol mixture. I clenched my fists as the liquid touched my open wounds, hissing occasionally. This was always the worst part. Every time I moved, the woman stopped, waiting to see if I would attack her, and I just rolled my eyes.
"I won't hurt you." I said after about the fifth time. I tried not to growl.
"Not while I'm here." Bond chimed in, and for that I smacked him in the arm-weakly, however- and he pretended not to notice.
"You killed them." was what the nurse replied. "And Mr. Barker. Right here in the office."
"I didn't want to kill the agents." I muttered back. "I had orders. You see what happens when you don't follow them."
"You could of said no." she snapped, as if she were angry with me.
"And suffer the same fate as them? I don't think so." I growled. That was the end of our conversation. She finished cleaning my wounds and then took out a needle, uncapping it and then turning to me. "What the hell do you think you're going with that?" I shouted, scrambling back against James. He put an arm around me, holding out his other to the nurse to keep her back as we waited for an answer.
"Pain reliever, and you need an IV."
Bond put his hand down and unwrapped his other from around me, nodding to the nurse. She went to grab my arm and I shied away, eyes on the needle. The puncture wounds along my body spiked with pain at the memory of the pricking, my breathing quickened and my palms started to sweat. My heart was racing and suddenly I couldn't think straight. No needles. No.
"Emerald, it'll be over soon. Just let her finish." Bond said, voice deep and soothing as he tried to calm me.
For a moment, I fell for it, but soon the fear returned and I shook my head, pushing back farther against him so he could protect me, so he could stop her. But he wasn't. He had to, because if he didn't this nurse was going to end up dead, and I didn't want to kill anyone else. James grabbed my arms, his legs pinning down mine.
"James no!" I shrieked, thrashing in his grasp.
I blinked, and the nurse wasn't a nurse anymore. She was my Russian torturer from that staged mission years ago, black beady eyes glinting with blood lust. I heard a scream, and it took me a moment to realize it was mine. I kicked at Clarence, but it wasn't Clarence, it was the nurse again. What the hell? Nothing made sense, nothing was right. James held me tighter and the nurse-or was it Clarence?- came at me with the needle.
"HELP!" I shrieked. "Somebody help!" I cried out, looking towards the door for someone to burst in and help me. But then I realized nobody was coming. Nobody would help me. Why should they? I was on my own.
The woman's hand gripped my arm and I thrashed more, being held mostly still by James. This fear was so irrational, they weren't going to hurt me, they wanted to help. But something made the icy clutch of fear nag my heart and slide into my veins. She was going to hurt me, and so was James. They were going to kill me, weren't they? And Clarence was too, and Mr. Russia. Where did they even go?
The needle slid into my arm, the prick shooting pain deep into my bicep. I shrieked again and again, hot tears leaking from my eyes. The needle was out and my movements became slower, the adrenaline being forced away. My movements became slower, like they'd shot lead into my veins. What if they actually had? My mind started to fog up, and I went limp in James' now comforting arms. He was stroking my hair, saying something that I couldn't quite hear. What had they done to me? Why didn't they just kill me? I deserved it, but I had been too weak to plunge the dagger into my chest when I'd had the chance. My chest was shaking and shuddering, tears still streaming down my face as I looked up at Bond. The lights above nearly blinded me, my vision blurring and then going clear, blurring and then clearing.
"You should have killed me."