My Serenity
WARNING: Rated M for some violence, language, and sexual situations. This fic contains (eventual) femmeslash and sexual situations between two female characters. Do not continue if this is not to your liking.
Trigger warnings: This chapter contains references to Charles Hoyt. While there are no graphic images or descriptions, some readers may be uncomfortable with the dark themes explored. Please be advised of trigger warnings for: kidnapping, psychological abuse, and physical violence. While these themes will not remain the focus of this story in general, it will be part of the plot for the next few chapters.
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Chapter 19 – What Happened to Us?
-Four Months Later-
Osiris
"Prisoner X38760 – Rizzoli, J. Step forward."
There was a brief silence. A shuffle of chains. A throaty grunt from the left.
"I said, Prisoner X387—"
"I'm standing right here," Jane interrupted agitatedly.
A sharp blow to her temple brought her to her knees.
"You never seem to learn, do you?" the officer replied, adding insult to injury by spitting on her hunched-over figure "Independent scum!"
"Was never good at school," she quipped, though with an unsteady voice.
Here she was, kneeling in the scorching sun, a blood soaked and sweat soaked uniform her only clothes for the last four days, her head throbbing from the second blow to the head in as many days, her sunburnt face covered in dirt and her hair a sun-bleached and tattered mess, and she still had the gall to talk back to the prison guards. The truth was, it was all she had left. They had taken everything else. Her ship was sent to auction. All the (little) credit she had was taken for her "defense." Not to mention that they had stripped her of her lucky boots and pistol.
The only thing she had left was her will. She turned to face the officer and the scorching sun hovering above him. She didn't know if it was the bright light or her vision that made it difficult to make out his face. His hair was dark, greasy, short; he was taller than the other officers with broad shoulders. Must be Johnson, Jane thought. He was just looking for an excuse.
"Shut up, scum!" Another blow hit her in the jaw.
Yep, Johnson, she thought as she spit blood into the dirt.
"Matterson!" Johnson shouted.
Another shadow loomed over her. "Yes, sir!"
"Take this insubordinate filth back to the field. She will be skipping this meal."
"Yes, sir!"
She was pulled up roughly by the arm and forced to her feet. The sudden movement made her dizzy; she struggled to focus her eyes. She was shoved to the left, stumbling into a group of orange jumpsuits.
"Watch where you're going!" One of the orange jumpsuits shouted, pushing her backwards.
"Another day, another dance." Jane muttered, almost laughing.
"What did you say to me?" a familiar voice threatened.
"Hello, Watson." Jane smiled, finally able to focus her eyes on a single face, this one with rather large nose and scar down her jaw. "Long time, no see."
"Rizzoli!" The white-haired woman said with a growl, baring her teeth.
"I would have figured you'd have been out by now." Jane laughed.
"No," she said, clenching her fists, "thanks to you I got 20 years."
"To be fair," Jane smiled, "you did try to kill my partner."
"Why I oughta!" Watson yelled, tackling her.
Jane went down smiling. Her last thought before her head hit the ground and was knocked cold was, this is really going to hurt.
Xxx
Ariel
"Paging Doctor Isles" the overhead announcement rang through the hall, "Doctor Isles to Ward 9."
Maura turned the corner out of breath. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail—though hours of frantic work had made the strays a mess around her face. She wore a long, white lab coat, with a rather plain dark blue button up under it. She hadn't had time to worry about her clothes in months. She searched her pockets with one hand as she scanned the medical pad in her other.
"Paging Doctor Isles to Ward 9." The announcement rang out again.
"I know, I know. I'm coming al—"
That was when she ran right into a what she assumed was a patient, dropping her medical pad and the medical scanner she had finally found in her left coat pocket, and she had almost fallen on her ass.
"Oh shoot," Maura yelped, grasping at the man in front of her instinctually, "I'm so sorry, sir. Are you-?"
She stopped dead, dropping her arms. She shook her head and grumbled as she turned to search the ground for her things.
"What are you doing here?" she practically growled. "Again."
Paddy Doyle yanked her by the arm and pulled her into the nearest room. Maura had only just managed to swoop up her medical pad as he did so. She had no idea where the medical scanner went. That'll be the third one I've lost since I got here, she grumbled internally.
"I told you not to come back here!" the Doyle fumed. "It's not safe for you on a core planet like Ariel—no less an Alliance medical facility!"
Maura forcefully removed her arm from the old man's grasp. "And I told you that what I do with my time is none of your business."
"See that's where you're wrong, Maura." Doyle growled lowly, his face growing red. He was trying awfully hard to remain intimidating while whispering. "You are my business!"
"I have patients to see." Maura replied, already making to open the door. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't barge in—"
"Fine," Doyle said, his voice suddenly gentle, pleading. When Maura paused and turned back, he continued, "What do I have to do to get you to listen to me?"
Maura turned to face him fully now, studying him. She noticed his hair seemed grayer, the wrinkles more prominent on his face. He must be under a great deal of stress, Maura pondered. He seemed to actually be worried about her, not forcefully as before, but helplessly, desperately.
"Well you can start by answering my questions." Maura said, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. She doubted that after two months of hounding him, he would suddenly cave in.
"Maura," he pleaded, "you know I can't tell you everything."
Maura chose to ignore this. If he really was so desperate, he would find a way to tell her what she needed to know. Instead, she added, "And you can help me."
"Maura, please…"
"If that's the case," Maura replied, pulling the door open and stepping out into the hall, "then I'll just have to figure it out on my own."
Xxx
Persephone
"Tommy?" Frankie shouted as he climbed out of the engine room, or at least what was left of an engine room. Considering it wasn't even connected to a ship anymore, Frankie wondered if you could even call it that.
He blinked in Lux's hot sunlight. He scanned the shipyard for his brother. The place was bustling with the noise of blow torches, scraping metal, workers shouting, gears grinding, and generators cranking. He was surrounded by dozens of men digging through spare parts and haggling over prices while the workers tried to piece together what they could.
His face was smudged with oil and soot. His hair was longer now, wavy. He hadn't had the time or the money to cut it. His beard was scruffy and patchy—exactly the reason he normally didn't keep one. His skin was sunburnt and his arms were riddled with cuts and burns—it had taken him a long while to figure out the tools of the trade, literally.
"Tommy!" Frankie shouted again, but there was no response. Damn lazy drunk, Frankie cursed, throwing down the wrench in his hand.
Twenty minutes later, Frankie found him exactly where he expected: the saloon down on Eavesdown docks. Tommy was sitting in the back of the bar, his face a dirty, greasy mess, and his hair slicked back. He was leaned back in his chair, chatting up a blonde girl. She had messy curls and was chewing a piece of gum lazily as she smiled at Tommy's no-doubt thrilling story.
Just as Frankie got within earshot, Tommy leaned forward, his smile widening, "And there I was, running out of air, flying this burning ball of fire, trying to land that thing coming in hot—I mean hot. I must have been going 2,000 kph—Ah!"
Frankie slapped him upside the head, "Stop taking credit for Janey's stories, ya asshole!"
"Hey!" Tommy and the blonde said in unison.
"What the hell was that for?" Tommy shouted back.
"For being a no good, lousy brother," Frankie growled, "what else?"
"I told you I was going to town to get ssome lunch."
"That was three hours ago!"
"Look, Frankie—"
"You know," the blonde said, standing up, "I should probably get going anyway."
"No!" Tommy smiled. "Please sstay."
"Yes, maybe you should." Frankie said, trying to keep his composure in front of the young lady.
"Frankie!"
"Tommy!"
When the blonde smiled awkwardly and turned to leave, Tommy jumped from his seat, "What the fffuck, Frankie? Whats-syour p-problem?"
"What's my problem?" Frankie scowled, seeing Tommy start to teeter. It seems the dozen or so shots were finally kicking in. "My problem is you!
"We're supposed to be working in the shipyard. We're supposed to be making money to get our ship back!"
"We are!" Tommy shouted happily. It seemed he had lost track of the fact that they were arguing. "We'rrre doing great!"
"No!" Frankie shouted, pushing his brother back, causing him to fall back into his chair. "-I- am working in the shipyard. -I- am the only one bothering to save money! I'm the only one who bothers to show up!
"I ssshowed up thissss m-morning!" Tommy slurred.
"For an hour!" Frankie shouted. "After spending the last three days recovering from hangovers."
"Nah!" Tommy shrugged his shoulders, smiling suggestively, "I was just up entertaining the ladies. If you know what I mean."
"That's it!" Frankie hollered. "That's enough. You need to cut this bullshit out or so help me!"
"Or you'll d-do w-what?"
"Or I'll …" Frankie growled through gritted teeth, clenching his fists. "I'll…"
"I knew it. You wouldn't d-do anythin'. Janey woulda, but you? Youu ain't half of what Janey is—"
At that moment Frankie swung his fist, hitting him square in the jaw. He blacked out immediately. He wouldn't wake up until three hours later after Frankie had lugged him home.
Xxx
Hera
"Did you find anything?" Frost asked the moment Korsak returned to their room.
"Of course not." Korsak mumbled, shaking the rain from his hat and hanging up his jacket.
"Shit." Frost groaned. "We haven't had work in nearly two weeks."
"I know that!" Korsak grunted. "Don't you think I know that?"
The two were quiet for a moment. Korsak sat on his cot, running his fingers through his hair grumbling under his breath. Frost was pacing back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"I couldn't find any ships heading to out to the Core," Frost suddenly blurted out, as if he had just remembered.
"Figures." Korsak sighed.
"I mean, none in our cost-range."
"Our cost-range is shit."
"How are we ever going to make it off this rock?"
"Same way we always do."
"I don't know if we have time to do the roundabout way. That's how we got stuck on this shit-stained planet in the first place."
"What other choice do we have?"
"Indentured-servitude?" Frost suggested with a raise of his brow.
Korsak blinked at him for a moment, dumbfounded. Then Frost cracked a smile.
"Damn," Korsak laughed, "I thought you were serious for a moment!"
Xxx
Persephone
"What the hell did you do to your brother?!" Angela shouted the minute Frankie opened the door.
The middle Rizzoli groaned as he lugged a completely unconscious Tommy into the tiny one-room house. "Me?" Frankie groaned, dropping his brother onto his cot. "Why you assume I'm the one to blame?"
"Well, are you?" Angela shouted accusingly, hitting him with the damp washcloth that had been on her shoulder.
"Ma!" Frankie complained. "He was at the bar talking up girls! It's not even noon and he's drunk."
"My poor baby!" Angela said, kneeling at her youngest's side. She dabbed his face with the towel, causing him to groan. "He's got a shiner, Frankie! What'd you do to him?!"
"Ma!" Frankie shouted. "He was going on about Janey! He shouldn't have talked like he did."
"So, you did hit him!" Angela shouted, turning on Frankie threateningly.
"Ma," Frankie pleaded. "Tommy's got a problem, okay? He needs help."
Angela stopped. She looked at Frankie silently for a moment. Then, her lip started to quiver. Her voice cracked and she started to sob, "What happened to us, Frankie? What happened to our family?"
"Oh, Ma," Frankie said, wrapping his arms around her, "it's okay. We'll figure this out. We'll be okay."
"No!" Angela pushed him away, "No. Nothing's been the same since Janey left. Nothing's been right!
"It's been four months since we heard from her. No word. No response from the Alliance. Not even word about her trial! They just sent her to jail. They sent her to jail, and we've done absolutely nothing! What's wrong with you boys?!
"For that matter, what about Maura? And Korsak and Frost? Not a word from them! Everyone just went on their way while Janey went off to prison! It's not right, I tell you! It's not right!"
Xxx
Jane awoke in her cell. She groaned as she tried to sit up. A wave of vertigo had her on her back a moment later. A searing pain throbbed at the back of her head.
Blinking her eyes, she tried to focus on the ceiling. Her eyes didn't seem to want to cooperate. It took a while before she managed to make out a beetle crawling across the ceiling. She followed it to the tiny window on the other side of the room.
It's dark, Jane thought to herself, at least I won't have to go out to the field again.
"Prisoner X38760 – Rizzoli, J. Step forward."
Not this again, Jane groaned internally as she attempted to sit up again.
"She likely sustained a concussion."
"Did I ask you?"
"Prisoner! Stand up!"
"We're lucky she didn't slip into a comma."
"Shut up Matterson!"
"Yes," Jane groaned as she precariously walked towards the prison guard, "what can I do for you, Johnson?"
"That's Sir to you!" The greasy-haired guard growled.
"Sorry, Sir!" Jane nodded, a smile slipping from her lips. "So very sorry."
"Just put your arms through the slot!" Johnson hollered.
"What's going on?" Jane frowned. For the first time she was able to focus on their faces. Johnson looked pissed, barely able to control himself—usually he didn't bother. Matterson looked even more flustered and anxious than normal. He was looking through his file pad. He scanned through the documents. She could see her mugshot on one of them.
"You're being transferred." Johnson grumbled.
"Transferred?" Jane frowned as she stepped out of her prison cell. "Transferred where? Why?"
"Shut up scum!" Johnson growled, shoving her forward. "No more questions."
"Sir!" Matterson complained from behind them. "He's already going to be mad about her current condition. Please don't make it worse."
"He?" Jane said, turning around. "Who's he? Where am I going?"
"Keep moving!" Johnson said, shoving her again, a bit "gentler" this time.
"You're going to a special facility." Matterson answered off-handedly, he was apparently too invested in the files on his pad to pay much more attention.
"A special facility? What the hell does that mean?" Jane insisted, starting to grow anxious. She was told her sentence was 10 years hard labor. A special facility was never mentioned.
"Some sort of research facility," Matterson responded as Johnson forcefully shoved her into a transport vehicle. "Order just came in a couple hours ago."
"Why?" Jane insisted, "Who ordered this?"
Matterson humored her, searching the file. "Says here that Dr. Shay Colther ordered your release to his rehabilitation facility, effective immediately."
"Colther?!" Jane shouted, but it was no use. Johnson had slammed the door in her face. The transport car sped off before Matterson even looked up.
[To be Continued]