Chapter Twenty-Nine: Rape Is a Four-Letter Word

"I thought I told you to take the day off."

Keira hadn't made it five feet out of the locker room before she was accosted by Greg, his face a study in concern. "I didn't feel like it," she said, quickening her steps so that they'd reach the gym faster.

"Keira." The boss's voice stopped her in her tracks. "You went through a lot yesterday," he reminded her, as if she'd forgotten. "You don't have to prove a point by being here."

"I'm not proving a point," Keira retorted. She wasn't interested in his fucking pity party. "I'm just doing my job."

That, and she'd spent too many days hiding under the covers with her "depressing music" playlist on repeat. She'd done more than enough of that before joining the SRU, and she wasn't planning on starting again.

"Part of this job is knowing your limits," Greg pointed out.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Are you sending me home?"

"No." She had a feeling that it was against his better judgment. "But you'll be in the command truck today if we get a call."

"Fine." Lou would probably thank her. "Mind if I start my workout?"

Parker hesitated. "Keira, if you want to talk—"

"I don't."

"Not now. But later."

Great, she thought. Just what I need. Greg was probably going to devote an entire section of her next psychological evaluation to the fact that she'd been raped. And while she understood his reasoning, it made her glad that he didn't know the whole story.

Her mood only worsened when she finally got to the gym. As if she were carrying a big neon sign that said "I'm a rape victim! Treat me differently!", her teammates all spent several obvious seconds staring at her—then just as obviously making their greetings pointedly casual. The sole exception was Will, who looked almost as bad as she felt. She wondered if he'd gotten any sleep last night.

For a few minutes, no one spoke. Keira gravitated towards the stationary bike, hearing the soft clink, clink of the other machines and feeling the weight of everyone's gazes upon her. Wordy walked by, for no apparent reason other than to say "hey" in a too bright voice, and she had to repress the urge to scream. This wasn't what she had come to work for. This wasn't what she needed right now.

Before she had the chance to open her mouth and say something she'd probably regret—it was a toss-up between it'd be nice if you could all stop staring at me or I was raped ten years ago, get over it already—Spike cleared his throat and resumed his conversation with Lou. Gradually, the tension in the room subsided. Sam went back to his punching bag, Ed and Wordy started talking about their kids, and Donna arrived a moment later to good-natured jibes about her tardiness.

Keira had been biking for about half an hour when Will entered her field of vision, his eyes wide in the way that meant he was struggling to stay awake. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly.

He winced. "Just tired," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "How about you? How are you holding up?"

"You mean, aside from the fact that everyone's staring at me like I'm some kind of freak?"

"They just weren't expecting you to show up today. They probably think…" Will trailed off, but at a sharp look from her he continued. "They probably think you should be home. Like you're in denial or something." Even as he spoke, it was a silent question underlying his own words.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

Luckily, he got the hint. "I have something for you," he said, changing the subject.

"What?" Despite the grin on his face, and the fact that he'd gotten her some pretty awesome gifts in the past (the best of which had been Madonna tickets for her sixteenth birthday), Keira couldn't help but eye him warily. The timing, after all, was suspicious—there was no way it didn't have something to do with yesterday.

"You'll see. At the end of the shift."

She made a face. "I have to wait?"

"I know, I know. Patience isn't one of your virtues." Will rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then winced.

"Uh… Will?" Keira asked, watching him blink away the glare of the fluorescent lights.

"Yeah?"

"Are you hungover? On a Tuesday morning?"

Will didn't respond, but his silence was answer enough. Keira felt a slight twinge of discomfort as she realized that he must have gotten drunk last night because of her, because of what he'd learned about her past. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign, or if she even wanted to know. "I have some Advil in my locker," she said awkwardly.

"I'll be fine."

"There's no point in making yourself mis—"

"Don't worry about me," Will insisted. I'm the one who should be worrying about you, he might as well have added.

"All right, Team One, time to run through some sparring drills," Parker announced just then, his voice loud enough that Will flinched. Keira stifled a smirk, her own troubles temporarily forgotten. She remembered exactly how Will felt, having suffered through some pretty atrocious mornings over the years, and she didn't envy him any of the symptoms.

Everyone gathered around Parker, who explained that they were going to be practicing ground maneuvers. Keira's mood improved ever so slightly: ground maneuvers were her favorite. She loved being able to escape from dozens of complicated holds, loved the rush of power that accompanied each triumph over her partner. Although she could count on one hand the number of times she'd actually used this training on the job, just knowing that she could throw off an assailant was enough for her.

"Today, we're going to be doing choke holds," Parker said, much to Keira's delight. "Spike, if you don't mind…"

Spike was already hurrying forward. "Sure thing, Boss," he said, grinning. One of the lighter guys on the team, and also the most easy-going, he had become the de facto guinea pig for sparring demonstrations. No matter how many times he got thrown to the ground or placed in an uncomfortable hold, he always bounced back up again with a smile on his face.

Once Parker and Spike had demonstrated the proper techniques, Parker had them split into pairs. Keira instinctively looked to Wordy, who also specialized in martial arts. She usually liked to practice with him for the more complicated maneuvers, since he always had great tips on the exercises. Plus… as much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew she would feel more comfortable working with him today than with anyone else on the team. (Even, or maybe especially, Spike and Will.)

Wordy glanced over, and their eyes met; then, to her surprise, he started drifting toward Will.

Ignoring the sinking sensation in her gut, Keira lifted her voice. "Wordy."

Wordy turned back to her, with a look of what she could only describe as pure reluctance on his face. "Partners?" she asked, forcing herself to sound casual when her insides were throbbing with embarrassment and hurt. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out why Wordy didn't want to work with her.

"Yeah, sure," Wordy agreed, too quickly. He looked one last time at Will, who was pairing up with Donna, and sighed. "Uh… Who do you want to be first?"

Better to get the worst over quickly. "The person being choked," Keira decided, lying down. Everyone else was already getting started—the "subject" would get on top and straddle the "officer," then reach down and pretend to choke them. (Spike to Lou: "This is the most action you've gotten all month, buddy!")

Keira waited for Wordy to start "attacking" her, but once he knelt down beside her he made no move to initiate the chokehold.

"Are you sure—"

"Wordy, I'm fine," she ground out, clenching her fists. Her cheeks felt hot, a combination of both fury and humiliation that she could barely stand. If Wordy didn't start choking her in two seconds, she was going to—

Wordy slowly climbed on top of her, his discomfort showing in every movement. He gripped her throat, his touch so gentle that she could barely feel it, and carefully adjusted himself so that there was no weight on her hips.

Keira swallowed, forcing her anger back down her throat. She was not going to scream. She was not going to cry.

Instead, she pointed out, "I can't throw you off if you're leaving all this space in between us."

Wordy hesitated, but eventually their bodies made contact—if the lightest of pressure could be considered contact. His legs were quivering with the effort it was taking him to remain suspended above her. "Is this okay?" he asked.

She was not going to scream. She was not going to cry. "Are you serious?"

A dark flush spread across his cheeks. "I'm just—"

"Hey, Wordy, do you think you could give Will a hand over here?"

At the sound of Greg's voice, a look of relief washed over Wordy. Before Keira could so much as blink, he had leaped off of her and was hurrying to Will's side. "Donna, why don't you pair up with Keira…" she heard Parker saying.

"You've got to be kidding me," Keira growled, loud enough to draw Spike and Lou's attention. She glared up at the ceiling, blinking away hot tears. Parker had just executed a classic "pair the women together so no one's uncomfortable" maneuver, with a side of "don't want the rape victim to have flashbacks" for good measure. Never mind the fact that more than ten fucking years had gone by since that night, which hadn't even been the worst one.

At this rate, she might as well have stayed home. Even being alone with her memories would have been better than the way her teammates were coddling her.

"So, I guess we're partners now."

Donna's face appeared above her, accompanied by a smile that Keira found particularly grating. "Yeah, I guess," she muttered.

At least Donna didn't seem to want to treat her like a glass ornament. The older woman was all business as she straddled Keira and wrapped her hands around her neck, squeezing just enough so that Keira could imagine herself in real danger. Grateful for this small mercy, Keira wasted no time before breaking the chokehold and throwing Donna off of her.

"Nice," Donna grunted as Keira pinned her to the mat and subdued her with a different hold.

Keira tried to suppress the irrational part of her that was annoyed by Donna's compliment. "Your turn," she said, gripping Donna's throat. For a brief moment, she imagined really squeezing, really making her choke; but then Donna broke the hold and flipped her over, and the vision shattered. Donna wasn't Wordy. Donna wasn't making her feel like she'd become a pariah. Donna hadn't done anything to her—and if Keira didn't get her act together, she was going to be taking an involuntary leave of absence.

After half an hour of varying chokeholds, Parker gave them a few minutes for a water break. Keira stayed where she was. She didn't feel thirsty, and the prospect of more awkward interactions with her teammates wasn't exactly appealing. Just thinking of the way Wordy had tried to avoid her was enough to make her blood boil. Worse, she didn't doubt for a second that the only difference between him and Donna was that Donna was doing a better job of hiding her pity.

Breathe, she told herself. She didn't want to lose her temper and make a scene in front of her coworkers, which would only reflect badly on her.

She was breathing, breathing, breathing… until Wordy walked by, glanced at her, and quickly looked away again.

Fuck it, Keira thought. Leaping to her feet, she caught up with Wordy and tapped his shoulder. "Hey," she said roughly, trying to keep her voice low so that the others wouldn't hear her. "What the hell was that?"

At least Wordy could meet her eyes this time, though his guilty expression gave it all away. "What was what?" he asked hesitantly.

Keira's temper flared. "You not being able to spar with me all of a sudden? Or even act normally?"

"I—"

"Just out of curiosity, how long am I going to have to wait before I'm something other than a rape victim to you?"

"That's not what—"

"Oh, don't try to deny it, that's exactly what's going on—"

"Is there a problem here?"

Ed appeared in front of them, bringing the argument to a halt. He glanced back and forth between them, eyebrows raised, while he waited for a response.

Keira was the first to collect herself. "No," she replied coolly. "Just asking Wordy a question he can't seem to find the answer to."

She left before either of them could say anything, still fuming. How many coworker relationships had she sacrificed yesterday, all because she'd saved a young girl's life? She had opened herself up and dug into some of her most painful memories in order to keep Alice from going over the edge—but at what cost?

And they wondered why she didn't want to fucking talk about herself.

By the time Parker set them up for punching drills, Keira was ready for an excuse to hit something. She barely waited for Donna to hold up the pads before launching into the exercise, striking the pads as hard as she could and easily driving Donna back a few feet. Donna adjusted her stance and tried to hold her ground, which only made Keira more determined to push her back. She imagined herself punching Wordy, her anger fueled by all the recollections she had of him purposefully going easy on her during sparring sessions; then she pictured Greg and Ed's faces, one for each pad. (She didn't dare picture Donna, for fear that she would actually punch the woman.)

At one point, the pad slipped off of Donna's hand. Keira caught herself just in time and stepped back, giving her space to adjust—but she was irritated at the delay, and she started bouncing impatiently. Hurry up, she thought, clenching her fists.

"You're doing well." Donna was slightly out of breath; evidently, Keira was giving her more of a workout than she'd anticipated. Her next words were less audible, but Keira thought she caught something along the lines of "let it all out."

"Excuse me?" Keira asked, stopping dead in her tracks.

Donna finished strapping the Velcro and glanced up. "I said, 'better to let it all out.'"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Keira hadn't realized how loud she was speaking until the room around her fell silent. One by one, her teammates stopped what they were doing and stared at her and Donna.

Donna was blinking in confusion. "I don't know what you—"

"What, you think I need to 'let it all out' because I'm having flashbacks or something? Because I feel powerless after being raped ten fucking years ago and need to 'reclaim' it or some stupid bullshit like that?"

Donna's eyes darted around the room, taking in the spectators, before she said, "You went through a lot yesterday, I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help!" Keira's voice rose with each syllable. "I'm over being raped, it happened a decade ago and I've fucking moved on. You think I'm pissed because of that? I'm pissed because ever since I walked in here today, it's like you people can't even look at me anymore. Wordy doesn't want to spar with me, I guess because I'm damaged goods or something—"

"Hey, that's not fair," Wordy interjected angrily.

"Oh, please, you couldn't get away from me fast enough when the boss oh-so-conveniently asked you to help Will. Isn't that right, Boss?" Keira asked, turning around to look at Greg. "I guess it's just too awkward to have me paired with one of the guys anymore, me being a rape victim and all. Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable." She spat out the last word.

"That's not what this is about," Parker said calmly. He was already assuming a negotiator pose, and Keira wanted nothing more than to wipe that reassuring expression right off of his face.

"Could have fooled me." Keira started taking off her protective gloves; the sound of Velcro ripping apart echoed throughout the quiet gym. "I'm going to get a drink," she announced, tossing the gloves on the ground. She didn't dare look in Will's direction. "And when I come back, I'd like to be treated the way I was before you all decided that I'm just a victim."

She shouldered past Donna and stalked out of the gym. Her hands were shaking so much that she had to clasp them together, slowly but steadily crushing her fingers. She headed straight for the locker rooms, ignoring the members of Team Three who were starting to filter in from an outdoor exercise.

When she was finally alone in the women's locker room, she sat down on a bench and buried her face in her hands. She shouldn't have lost her temper like that; the outburst had likely confirmed Parker's belief that she would have been better off home. But why did Wordy and Donna have to be so fucking patronizing?How hard was it to pretend that everything was normal, that it was just another day of work?

"Just let it all out," she muttered mockingly to herself, looking around for something she could throw or kick without causing too much damage. The nearest object at hand was an empty water bottle, so she picked it up and hurled it at the lockers. The pathetic noise it made as it bounced off a locker and fell to the floor wasn't satisfying in the least.

"Punching bags usually work better."

Keira stiffened, then turned around to face Ed. She was relieved to see that he wasn't laughing at her.

"You have an appointment with Dr. Luria on Thursday," he announced.

Several expletives came to mind, but Keira did her best to remain civil. "I don't need a psychiatrist," she informed him. Dr. Luria was nice and all, but she'd only spoken to the woman a handful of times. SRU-mandated girl talk was definitely not her thing.

"It's not an option."

Well, fuck you, too, she thought.

"I also want you to take tomorrow off."

"Maybe you should give that day off to Wordy," Keira couldn't resist retorting. "Sounds like he needs some time to adjust to working with a rape victim."

"No one here thinks you're a victim."

Keira snorted. "That's not what I got out of today's practice."

"They're concerned about you. There's a difference."

Keira didn't respond, hoping he would fulfill his team leader obligations as quickly as possible and then leave her alone. If she was going to have this talk with anyone without getting pissed off, it would be Will. Ed wouldn't even make the top ten.

"Look, I get that you're angry. That's what Dr. Luria's for. So, after today's shift, I want you to go home and spend tomorrow unwinding. Whatever you need to do—just go easy on the alcohol."

"I don't drink," Keira replied bitingly.

"Go easy on the alcohol," Ed repeated. "Then, on Thursday, you see Dr. Luria. You're back on duty once she clears you."

"Once she—what the hell?" Keira demanded, tensing. "Since when do I need to be cleared for duty? Is this some kind of joke?"

Ed ignored the last question. "No one blames you for being angry, but the issue here is your judgment."

"My judgment was just fine yesterday."

"You helped save her life, and that's great." Ed's eyes were fixed on hers. "But you also got caught up in your story, and you risked losing perspective."

Keira had an uncomfortable feeling that he was referring to the comment she'd unintentionally made about her mother.

"I'm going to talk to Wordy," Ed promised her, "but you're talking to Dr. Luria."

"Great." Given the choice, Keira would have preferred another round of sparring drills with Wordy. Or tagging along on one of Will and Cassie's dates.

Ed watched her for a moment, during which she studiously avoided his gaze. "You did a good job yesterday."

"Thanks."

Another pause; finally, Ed nodded. "See you back out there."

Once he was gone, Keira took a deep breath and then, with one violent motion, swept everything off of the bench.