I don't own The Patriot

1st A/N: The second section of the chapter is a trigger warning.

Catherine awoke to the knocking on the door of her bedchamber. To her surprise, she had been sleeping peacefully without any recurring nightmares that involved the burning of the church back in Pembroke. She looked out her window and saw the sun that was beginning to set as small rays of sunlight peeked into the room. A small yawn escaped her lips before throwing on a robe upon her nightgown. Whomever was at the door was pretty demanding. Her hand hovered over to the doorknob, hesitating for a second, before she finally opened the door to reveal Briar right in front of it.

"Ms. Parsons?" Catherine greeted her in questionably as the maid gave her a nod of her head and proceeded to walk into the bedchamber.

"Ms. Smith, I am sorry to awaken you from your slumber," Briar spoke, "the captain from the Green Dragoons requests your presence. He was...rather instant upon it." A look of uneasiness shrouded over her eyes that Catherine couldn't really put her finger on it? Had James spoke to Briar in a way that the maid had disapproved of? Catherine hoped that wasn't the case.

"Is everything alright?" Catherine asked her.

Briar gently shook her head towards the question that was asked. "I'm afraid I am not too sure about it," she responded to her. "Here, allow me to get into a set of clothing. I don't wish to cause any delay."

With those words, Catherine allowed Briar to undress her into a blue low necked gown followed by a light blue kerchief that Briar tied around her neck. The maid combed Catherine's curls and allowed them to fall upon her shoulders. Before finishing, Briar inspected the woman before her to ensure that nothing else was missing. "I believe you are ready Ms. Smith," Briar finally said to Catherine who stood on her feet. "He will be awaiting for you in the parlor. Best of luck."

Those three words made Catherine nervous. Why would she need luck? It was only James that she was meeting and she felt safe around his presence. The heels of her shoes echoed through the hallway when she walked before arriving to the parlor where she noticed James pacing over to the window and looked out just as the sun was starting to set. It seemed that he had something going through his mind. War related was all that Catherine could think of. "James?" Catherine called and the captain turned around and looked at her.

The first thing James's eyes fell upon was that teardrop necklace that she wore around her neck. How come this was the first time that he had noticed it? It was a present that he had given her when they had started to court one another, with the disapproval of her parents, and she had kept it during this whole time...and that blue color of her dress. It was amazing how much a simple color could make someone so mesmerizing. "Cat," he said and he quickly walked over to her, taking her hands in his and kissing her knuckles.

Catherine lightly scoffed at the nickname but nevertheless smiled. She pulled hm closely, standing only a mere couple of inches away from one another. She looked up and him and asked, "what is wrong? You look worried."

He was worried. After that conversation that he had with Tavington at the infantry was something that he couldn't forget about. Whatever Tavington was planning for Catherine, he knew that it was not going to be good. He took his opportunity to at least try and warn Catherine at was coming in the near future. "Tavington," James began and just by the mention of that name was enough to send a chill down her spine, "he wants me to question you on anything that you may know of Benjamin Martin."

Catherine lightly furrowed her brows as she looked at James. "I...I don't know what to say," she said to him, "I don't know anything about his whereabouts."

"Are you certain?" James asked her.

Catherine nodded her head. "Yes," she said to him, "I may have heard something from my neighbors in Pembroke but not anything that I can specifically remember."

"If you did know, would you still tell him?" James asked her.

That was a question that made Catherine stare at him in silence. Benjamin Martin and the militia had been doing everything to ensure the protection of their neighbors as well as the freedom of their country. If Catherine was true to herself, she wouldn't have uttered a single word about it even if her father had told his family anything. "I'm a patriot James," she said to him. "I may not show it, but I want the freedom of this country just as much as anyone who is fighting for it."

And I'm a Loyalist, fighting for the king and country James mentally thought but his eyes never broke away from Catherine.

A set of footsteps were heard from the hallway and James took a step back from Catherine and beheld a cold demeanor upon his face. Catherine looked at James in confusion before she turned her head and saw a figure coming out of the shadows, one that had been spreading fear ever since the beginning of the war, causing Catherine to avert her eyes and look at the ground.

"Captain," Tavington spoke to James and then looked at Catherine, "are we ready to begin?"

James reached over and took a hold of Catherine's upper arm. A gasp almost escaped her lips at how tightly he was gripping onto her arm. "Yes," James answered Tavington and dragged Catherine with him. "Where should we question her?"

There was only one secluded building where Tavington thought it was necessary to do it and where there would be no interruptions. "I have a place in mind," Tavington cryptically answered him. "Come along, we are wasting precious time."

Their arrival to this small secluded hideaway was something that Catherine had never noticed before upon her arrival to Fort Carolina. A feeling of fear came over her as the three of them made their way inside. Many things jumped out a Catherine when she walked inside. The inside was cold, that not even the fireplace could warm. There was the smell of death in the atmosphere and another thing that jumped out a Catherine was the red smudges that were on the table.

Good Heavens Catherine thought to herself as she was led over to the table and seated on one of the chairs. She kept her hands clasped with one another to keep them from shaking, but it didn't go unnoticed by the colonel.

"Now Ms. Smith," Tavington spoke as he walked around her chair and stood across from her, "there is no need to be fearful. All we require is your participation and if you do..." he looked over at James that was standing next to a window before looking back at Catherine, "I may grant you your freedom from here to be with your sisters."

My sisters. Just the thought of her sisters was enough to bring tears into her eyes. All she could do was pray for their safety and only hope that by the end of this war, they would be reunited with one another. She responded to the colonel with a nod of her head.

"Now Captain, if you may," the colonel said and he walked away from Catherine and allowed James to take his place.

James approached the table and looked directly at Catherine. As he stood in front of her, he noticed how vulnerable she looked sitting on that chair. As for Catherine, it was the first time that she realized how intimidating James looked even though, and she hoped, was not his intention.

"Cat-Ms. Smith," James quickly corrected himself and hoped that the colonel wouldn't catch his mistake. "We obtained some information from Pembroke about Benjamin Martin's whereabouts. Do you know of any new information that you may have heard of?"

Catherine sat mute at the chair. She had just mentioned to him in the parlor that she knew nothing and if she was to obtain any memory from any conversation that she had with anyone, she felt that she wouldn't be able to recall. "I...I don't," Catherine said with a shake of her head.

James hoped that this was going to be the end of the interrogation, but when Tavington turned around and looked at the two of them, James felt that the colonel had different plans. "This is an important matter Captain, not a tea party," he said before walking over to them, "in case you need a reminder, she is a rebel and she will be dealt as such. Questioning is a feeble attempt."

James's eyes widened as he understood what the colonel was saying. "Colonel you don't suggest-"

"Are you questioning me, Captain?" Tavington rose an eyebrow and looked at James. Even if James was slightly taller than him, Tavington had enough presence to cause fear to any man.

"No sir," James shook his head.

"Good," Tavington smirked and then looked over at Catherine, "you may continue."

James turned his attention to Catherine and tried to think of what else he could ask her. Damn it! he mentally cursed, hating this position that he had placed under and wishing that he had the will to turn his dagger upon the colonel. "Your help is essential to us, Ms. Smith," James continued, causing Tavington to roll his eyes.

"You're being lenient Captain," Tavington jumped in, "and to whom but a rebel."

James clenched and unclenched his jaw. What was he supposed to do? If he didn't give Tavington what he wanted to see he would be seen as incompetent in the cavalry but when it came to these brutal tactics, James was always on edge.

Tavington felt his patience being tested. He knew that James was hesitant but to be this cowardly? "Perhaps you would like some demonstration," he walked over to the fireplace and picked up a poker stick and placed it within the flames of the fire, watching it as the metal began to turn a bright red color.

Catherine's eyes widened as she looked from the fireplace and over to James. "No!" she shook her head as fear spread into her eyes. "You can't let him do this!"

Tavington calmly walked over to Catherine with the poker stick in his grip. He turned his eyes over to James and handed the stick over to him. "If you're loyal to the king and country, why don't you show it."

James looked at the poker stick and hesitated to take it in his hands. "There is no honor in this."

"And what of you?" Tavington asked, "where is your honor is supporting what we're fighting for? Where do you loyalties lie Captain? To king and country or to a rebel whore?" With those words that had just left his lips Tavington immediately took a hold of Catherine's arm, lied it on the wooden table, and placed the hot metal onto her skin.

The moment the hot metal made contact with her skin, Catherine let out a scream. "Speak!" Tavington hissed and moved the poker stick away from her skin, "where are the rebels hiding?"

Catherine felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to catch her breath. She felt so much pain that she barely heard the colonel's question. Her silence was enough to motivated the colonel to place the poker rod once more upon her skin.

There was another scream that made James look away. "Don't turn your back Wilkins!" Tavington shouted, "you're the one who's supposed to be doing this!" He gripped onto the poker stick and headed back to the fire.

Just then, James's eyes fell onto the wounds that Tavington had inflicted upon her. "My God," he whispered and immediately went over to Catherine who was whimpering from the pain that she felt upon her skin. "Catherine," he softly said her. All of the energy that she had put into her screaming had been enough to weaken her, which made James hold onto her head to keep her from nodding off.

Tavington glared at James at how he was handling the situation. Once the poker stick was hot enough, he walked back to the table and looked at Catherine. Her eyes were wet, her hair had begun to damped from her sweat, and she was on the verge of fainting. However, Tavington was not through with his tactic yet. "Perhaps this will bring you to your senses," he said as he pushed James away, let go of the poker stick, and sunk his nails into her blistered skin. "I will ask you once more," he spoke through his teeth as Catherine whimpered through the pain, "where is he?"

"O-Old S-Spanish Mission," was all that Catherine could remember from one of the previous conversations with her neighbors.

"Lies!" Tavington hissed and slapped her across the face, causing James to jump. While her words may have been true, during one of the raids with the cavalry, they had gone to the Black Swamp but none of the militiamen nor Benjamin Martin had been there much to the colonel's annoyance, and right now he felt more angered than he did before.

The more that his nails sunk into her skin, the more blood was drawn and Catherine could feel it seeping out. She didn't know how time had passed until he let go of her arm and paced away from her. He took a deep breath and in a quick instant returned to that calm demeanor his, taking a handkerchief and wiping away the blood that was upon his hands. When he turned around he saw James kneeling right beside her as he tried to awaken her and calling her out by her name.

"It is no question to where your loyalties lie Captain," Tavington said as he looked at James, who didn't even turn around to look at him. "Such a pity."

With those last words, he threw the smeared handkerchief onto the floor and proceeded to head out of the small building, leaving both James and Catherine inside.