Please forgive me
The next time she saw the officer was the morning after. He came to her cell and stopped in doorway, watching her with fury burning in his eyes. Rachel was pleased to note that he had a very prominent bandage over the wound she had caused, that went from his left eyebrow and down to the right corner of his mouth, slicing off a chunk of skin from his nose on the way. That the pathetic little piece of porcelain had done that was unexpected, but not unwelcome. The officer stood glaring at her for a very long time, making her skin crawl, before ordering her to be let down again - to her surprise - and giving her water and the first good meal since she was captured.
Captured. Freedom. Seemed like it had been a hundred years ago.
The officer sent the guards away and watched her eat, with so much interest that for a moment she thought that the food might be poisoned and the best thing would be to throw it at his face. She played with the idea for a few moments, before remembering how hungry she was and returning her concentration to just eating.
When she was done she sat back down, leaning against the wall behind her, returning the officer's glare. "What are you staring at?"
He brought a hand up to his bandage. For the first time the tight control he always held over his face fell away and Rachel could see the madness that burned in his eyes. "I was right when I said I don't want you dying on me," he said lowly. "Breaking your spirit is going to be very… interesting."
He looked her over with a gaze that made her insides churn. She turned away, faking a yawn to hide her sudden unease. "If you say so. You can leave now. I'm tired."
His eyes flashed with anger, and she expected him to order his guards to put her back in those chains, or maybe drag her away to some room and beat her as he usually did. But he spun on his heels and left the cell, slamming the door behind him.
She was so surprised that she had to look up and check that he was actually gone.
Rachel did her best to make her behaviour over the coming days grow worse and worse. She let the officer's cruelty fuel her anger, and anger had always been a good source to spark defiance. At least for Rachel.
But the result was that, only two days later, she ended up in Clara's clinic again. Although those two days had seemed like an eternity.
Rachel was more than happy to relax and let Clara fuss over her wounds and bruises. Clara's fussing wasn't annoying, like some fussing, but more a to-the-point statement that something needs to be done about this, and about that, and then efficiently taking care of it.
She was shown a mirror and barely recognized her face beneath the blisters and bruises that adorned it. She already knew how the rest of her looked, having seen more of that than she wished to, but her face… she had quickly turned her gaze away again.
Her head was swollen and one of her ears had lost its former shape, probably from one of those kicks at her head. Her forehead was blackened, and across it was a cut, roughly taped together with medic tape. There was no trace of her normal, perfect skin, and she had no illusions about seeing any of it until she had been allowed to morph away all the damage. Which would never happen, she knew very well.
Her head was adorned with a tassel of dirt, blood and formerly blond hair. When Clara had handled her wounds after best ability, she took out a bowl of water, shampoo and a brush and - to Rachel's surprise - began to wash it.
"You really should cut if off," she muttered to herself. "In this place, it will only be in your way."
"I don't want to cut it off," Rachel replied, a statement that had already been discussed. "I'm keeping it."
"If you cut it off, Gus won't be able to drag you by your it."
"So he'll use my ear instead."
Clara laughed. "Probably," she agreed. "It wouldn't surprise me." But then her hands stopped working at Rachel's hair and Rachel could sense her hesitation.
"What?"
She felt Clara pull a bit at the uncooperative tangles, and saw as she held out a hand in front of Rachel's face.
In her hand was a small piece of porcelain, shaped like a dagger but about the size of a large coin. From the stray hairs on its edges, it had been found in the tangles of Rachel's hair. It had obviously got stuck and followed her since then - probably when the officer threw her down to the floor.
"Put it back," Rachel ordered, making a quick decision, thinking as before that anything with a sharp edge was of use. Any weapon she could find that would help her hurt the officer. Anything.
"Are you sure?" Clara wondered, uncertain.
Rachel turned around to face the nurse, eyes steaming. "Look, are you on my side, or on his? Put it back. Now."
Clara bit her lip. "Rachel, I really shouldn't. I could get into really big trouble if…"
"How are they going to know?"
Without another word, Rachel snatched the piece out of the nurse's hand, caught a wisp of her own hair, and tied the porcelain in place as securely as she could, hidden deep in the tassels.
"There," she said. "Deny all knowledge if they ask. And you didn't give it to me; I stole it. Fair enough?"
Clara didn't reply, but the work on Rachel's hair stopped for obvious reasons. It was left in much the same condition it had been in before.
Tobias waited patiently outside the room until the nurse came out. Then he stood up and the question was clear without him having to say anything. Which was fortunate. He was not allowed to talk to the nurse.
"She's alive," Clara said, in a low voice, hiding her face, to all eyes ignoring him. "She'll survive longer than most of the others. But don't get your hopes up," she warned. "we both know what Gus can do when he gets angry enough."
She fidgeted with a paper. She was nervous - for what? Was she hiding something?
"Tobias, you shouldn't be here. If he catches you in this part of the building…" she let the sentence hang in the air, unfinished, and sent him a pleading glance. "Anything you do wrong, he'll take it out on her. Remember? You better go. Who knows when he comes to visit?"
Tobias nodded. He glanced at the door to Rachel's room and wished he had the nerve to go in there and talk to her. Just to see her face. It would be so easy… he could tell her he was alive. He could tell her he was planning an escape for her.
He could get caught.
The thought was enough to turn him away from the door and send him down the corridor at a half-jog.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
In the next one Rachel will find out that Tobias is around. But you'll have to wait like a good little reader. *innocent smile* And until then, you've got a review to write.
The next time she saw the officer was the morning after. He came to her cell and stopped in doorway, watching her with fury burning in his eyes. Rachel was pleased to note that he had a very prominent bandage over the wound she had caused, that went from his left eyebrow and down to the right corner of his mouth, slicing off a chunk of skin from his nose on the way. That the pathetic little piece of porcelain had done that was unexpected, but not unwelcome. The officer stood glaring at her for a very long time, making her skin crawl, before ordering her to be let down again - to her surprise - and giving her water and the first good meal since she was captured.
Captured. Freedom. Seemed like it had been a hundred years ago.
The officer sent the guards away and watched her eat, with so much interest that for a moment she thought that the food might be poisoned and the best thing would be to throw it at his face. She played with the idea for a few moments, before remembering how hungry she was and returning her concentration to just eating.
When she was done she sat back down, leaning against the wall behind her, returning the officer's glare. "What are you staring at?"
He brought a hand up to his bandage. For the first time the tight control he always held over his face fell away and Rachel could see the madness that burned in his eyes. "I was right when I said I don't want you dying on me," he said lowly. "Breaking your spirit is going to be very… interesting."
He looked her over with a gaze that made her insides churn. She turned away, faking a yawn to hide her sudden unease. "If you say so. You can leave now. I'm tired."
His eyes flashed with anger, and she expected him to order his guards to put her back in those chains, or maybe drag her away to some room and beat her as he usually did. But he spun on his heels and left the cell, slamming the door behind him.
She was so surprised that she had to look up and check that he was actually gone.
Rachel did her best to make her behaviour over the coming days grow worse and worse. She let the officer's cruelty fuel her anger, and anger had always been a good source to spark defiance. At least for Rachel.
But the result was that, only two days later, she ended up in Clara's clinic again. Although those two days had seemed like an eternity.
Rachel was more than happy to relax and let Clara fuss over her wounds and bruises. Clara's fussing wasn't annoying, like some fussing, but more a to-the-point statement that something needs to be done about this, and about that, and then efficiently taking care of it.
She was shown a mirror and barely recognized her face beneath the blisters and bruises that adorned it. She already knew how the rest of her looked, having seen more of that than she wished to, but her face… she had quickly turned her gaze away again.
Her head was swollen and one of her ears had lost its former shape, probably from one of those kicks at her head. Her forehead was blackened, and across it was a cut, roughly taped together with medic tape. There was no trace of her normal, perfect skin, and she had no illusions about seeing any of it until she had been allowed to morph away all the damage. Which would never happen, she knew very well.
Her head was adorned with a tassel of dirt, blood and formerly blond hair. When Clara had handled her wounds after best ability, she took out a bowl of water, shampoo and a brush and - to Rachel's surprise - began to wash it.
"You really should cut if off," she muttered to herself. "In this place, it will only be in your way."
"I don't want to cut it off," Rachel replied, a statement that had already been discussed. "I'm keeping it."
"If you cut it off, Gus won't be able to drag you by your it."
"So he'll use my ear instead."
Clara laughed. "Probably," she agreed. "It wouldn't surprise me." But then her hands stopped working at Rachel's hair and Rachel could sense her hesitation.
"What?"
She felt Clara pull a bit at the uncooperative tangles, and saw as she held out a hand in front of Rachel's face.
In her hand was a small piece of porcelain, shaped like a dagger but about the size of a large coin. From the stray hairs on its edges, it had been found in the tangles of Rachel's hair. It had obviously got stuck and followed her since then - probably when the officer threw her down to the floor.
"Put it back," Rachel ordered, making a quick decision, thinking as before that anything with a sharp edge was of use. Any weapon she could find that would help her hurt the officer. Anything.
"Are you sure?" Clara wondered, uncertain.
Rachel turned around to face the nurse, eyes steaming. "Look, are you on my side, or on his? Put it back. Now."
Clara bit her lip. "Rachel, I really shouldn't. I could get into really big trouble if…"
"How are they going to know?"
Without another word, Rachel snatched the piece out of the nurse's hand, caught a wisp of her own hair, and tied the porcelain in place as securely as she could, hidden deep in the tassels.
"There," she said. "Deny all knowledge if they ask. And you didn't give it to me; I stole it. Fair enough?"
Clara didn't reply, but the work on Rachel's hair stopped for obvious reasons. It was left in much the same condition it had been in before.
Tobias waited patiently outside the room until the nurse came out. Then he stood up and the question was clear without him having to say anything. Which was fortunate. He was not allowed to talk to the nurse.
"She's alive," Clara said, in a low voice, hiding her face, to all eyes ignoring him. "She'll survive longer than most of the others. But don't get your hopes up," she warned. "we both know what Gus can do when he gets angry enough."
She fidgeted with a paper. She was nervous - for what? Was she hiding something?
"Tobias, you shouldn't be here. If he catches you in this part of the building…" she let the sentence hang in the air, unfinished, and sent him a pleading glance. "Anything you do wrong, he'll take it out on her. Remember? You better go. Who knows when he comes to visit?"
Tobias nodded. He glanced at the door to Rachel's room and wished he had the nerve to go in there and talk to her. Just to see her face. It would be so easy… he could tell her he was alive. He could tell her he was planning an escape for her.
He could get caught.
The thought was enough to turn him away from the door and send him down the corridor at a half-jog.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
In the next one Rachel will find out that Tobias is around. But you'll have to wait like a good little reader. *innocent smile* And until then, you've got a review to write.