Please forgive me
Rachel was in a horrid state.
She had, over night, grown silent. Not a single word escaped her, not even in response to the officer's cruel remarks, or his questions. She cradled her tattered, wounded hand, and kept staring at him, with so much loathing that even he became uncomfortable under her silent, almost ghastly gaze.
Within two days, he had grown tired of her stubborn silence. The only way he knew to get her out of it, or to get her to do anything, was beating her until she screamed. The result of that was that Rachel, once again, ended up in Clara's clinic, this time too weak to talk.
Therefore the horrid state.
The nurse took care of Rachel's wounds as best she could, lining up the broken bones in the patient's hand after best ability but realising that the hand would never heal properly, fed her and gave her enough water, and painkillers, to last through the next day. Clara could barely believe that the young warrior was still alive, after all she had to live through.
Clara spoke to Gus, as she had to, about her patient, and advised him to let her rest for at least two days. Gus exploded, and lashed out at her, but Clara had picked the place and time well - in the cafeteria, at the same time the bosses were eating, only a few tables away. If Gus disturbed their peace they would not be pleased.
He was not mad enough to try. He stood, vibrating with anger, the chair behind him had fallen when he'd flown to his feet, but he slowly lowered the hand he had raised to strike her.
She lifted her glass and smiled at him, knowing her success. Gus pulled the chair back up and sank down on it, not taking his madly burning eyes from her.
"I'll decide when myself," he spat. "One week, one day, or one hour. I decide. She's my prisoner."
"And my patient. Keep out of my clinic, Gus. I told the bosses about your last escapade in there, and they were not happy about it. The entire point of the clinic is to be a place of peace and rest."
He stood up again. "Then you better stay in your clinic, woman, because set one foot outside and you'll know what defying me means."
He whirled around and began striding away.
"Was that a threat, Gus?" she called after him. He didn't answer, but she knew the reply without hearing it. She shivered. Her appetite was gone and she left the cafeteria to return to her patients.
When Clara returned to the clinic, Tobias was sitting outside Rachel's room. As Clara approached, he stood up, watching her with pleading eyes.
Clara sighed. "You know I can't help you, Tobias," she said.
"I'm not leaving until you do," he said again, the same words as before she had left, in exactly the same, flat tone of voice. "I'm staying here until you help me."
"What if Gus comes by? You know what he'll do if he catches you here."
There was a flash of fear over Tobias's face, but he stifled it surprisingly quickly and said; "He's no longer allowed here in the clinic."
"Do you actually think that'll stop him?"
He shivered, but then straightened and regarded her with a half-pleading, more-than-desperate, but still determined look. "I'm still not leaving."
"I've noticed."
"Just give me the key to her cell…" he pleaded.
"I can't," Clara said. "Leave me alone. Or I'll tell Gus you were here." She went into her office and planned to slam the door behind her, but he caught it and wrenched it back open, stepping into the doorway to keep her from closing it, one hand on the door, one on the doorframe.
There was something in his eyes that made her pull back.
"Don't you want to save Rachel?" he asked in a dangerously low voice.
"I…" Clara sighed. "I do work for the prison, Tobias." She put a hand in the left pocket of her long white coat and fidgeted with the keys inside it.
Tobias heard the soft rattle of metal and his gaze averted from her face towards her pocket., his expression calculating.
"Don't even think it," Clara warned, seeing and recognizing that look. "I'll set security on you, I swear I will. If I do you'll be locked up again, and powerless to help anyone. And if they catch you with keys, any keys at all…"
The tension in Tobias's shoulders relaxed as he realised she meant to carry through her threat. Clara was possibly the only ally he and Rachel had in the prison; and she would only help that far. She would have nothing to do with any escapes.
Nodding to herself, seeing that he had abandoned that crazy idea, Clara could turn her back to him without being too worried. She reached for a small, metal cupboard hanging on the wall, put a small, silver key in the lock and turned it slowly. Opening the cupboard, she neatly hung the other keys on their little hooks. She slammed the door shut in the same motion as she turned, gave Tobias an evaluating, warning look, and left the room.
Tobias glanced after her, but remained where he was, hands twitching. The door to the little cupboard had - by accident or on purpose, he couldn't tell - failed to close properly.
Rachel's hand was throbbing. Clara must have forgotten to fill up the painkillers…
She opened her eyes, ready to meet the by then familiar scene of the sickroom, but instead saw the rough walls of her own cell - familiar, yes; welcome, no.
She sighed heavily, closed her eyes, curled back up on her blanket and tried to ignore the throbbing in her hand. The bandage was gone - ripped off, the evening before. She remembered now. The officer had not been foolish enough to enter the clinic after being forbidden - he had sent a pack of his worst soldiers instead. They'd tore her out of that comfortable sickbed and dragged her back to the uninviting stone floor of her cell. And ripped away the bandage on her hand.
Her hand which now was more of a claw. She yearned to morph it away… she hated the sight of it. Crooked, bloody, useless, and broken.
Like the rest of me, she thought bitterly.
The sound outside her cell stirred her back to the present. At first she thought it was the officer, coming to see her again - anger steamed up. She hated him worse than her hand.
Then she heard the sound of running - two sets of running boots, disappearing down the corridor. The guards - leaving. Why? There was a short pause; she strained her ears, sitting up and staring at the door. Then a soft voice… "Rachel?"
Rachel's heart skipped a beat. That voice… she scrambled up to the door faster than she would have thought possible. "Tobias? Tobias, is that you?"
"I'm so glad you're awake," that same voice said, a voice she hadn't heard in years, a voice that was drenched with weariness and relief. "Listen, Rachel, are you okay? Doesn't matter, as long as you're alive… I love you, and I'm going to let you out, I've got the key…"
Rachel wasted no time wondering how he had gotten the key, how he had escaped his own cell… "Then hurry up before they come back!"
"I will."
The key was in the lock, and turning… the lock clicked once. The door was torn open and Rachel, who had been half-leaning towards it fell out… right into Tobias's arms.
She clung to his shoulder for a moment, then turned to look up at his face. They both dared a smile. Rachel swallowed, sighed, reached up to kiss him and then smiled again. "About time."
"I'd have come quicker, but I just got the key…" he tightened an arm around her waist, holding her up… he was in much better shape, she was glad to notice, almost unharmed except for a few bruises. "I've missed you." He bent down to kiss her forehead.
"I've missed you too," she replied, burying her head against his shoulder.
Then a hand was grabbing her hair and yanked her away from Tobias's grip, and another voice said; "And I'd have missed you both if you managed to escape!"
Rachel, startled, realised it was the officer. She struggled to break free, and Tobias charged with a cry of fury.
The officer brushed him away with a sweep of his arm. He caught Rachel's broken hand in his own and squeezed, making her gasp from the sudden pain, easily being forced down to her knees as her arm was twisted in his grip.
Tobias crawled up on all four and was about to get up when the officer aimed a kick that hit him straight in the face. He fell back, tumbled, and just as he stopped tumbling the officer kicked him again.
"Never do that!" he roared. "You didn't actually think you'd get away, birdbrain? DID YOU?!"
Rachel watched helplessly as two of the officer's soldiers appeared, grabbed Tobias by the arms and lifted him up. He tried to break free, but his motions were numb and mostly on automatic; and of course it was impossible.
The officer regarded him coldly, still cruelly crushing Rachel's broken hand in one of his own. "Can you hear me, bird-brain?" he said.
Tobias glanced up, nodded once, and his head fell back down as if in defeat. Rachel hated that look on his face. Hated it. Why didn't he fight? Why… He could at least try. He should try. She wrenched at her hand, following her own advice and attempting to break free, but as the officer yanked back she had to bite into her lip to avoid crying out.
"Remember what I told you," the officer sneered, still speaking to Tobias, ignoring Rachel as if she wasn't even there. "You knew the consequences. And still…" he glared at Tobias, but then shrugged. "Suit yourself."
With that, he set off purposefully down a corridor, dragging Rachel along. The guards followed with Tobias from a distance.
Rachel twisted her head around to look at him, and what she saw made her blood boil in anger.
Not even then did he fight.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
*glares at reader* Well, you didn't REALLY expect me to let them get away that easily, did you?
And I know Tobias not fighting is a bit OOC, but considering the situation it's not impossible. What's he supposed to do, anyway?
Besides, I like the idea. Get Rachel mad at him. Perfect.
Now then. Here's a question. I've planned and half-written an ending, but it is VERY depressing. Should I put that one up, or write a happier one?
Rachel was in a horrid state.
She had, over night, grown silent. Not a single word escaped her, not even in response to the officer's cruel remarks, or his questions. She cradled her tattered, wounded hand, and kept staring at him, with so much loathing that even he became uncomfortable under her silent, almost ghastly gaze.
Within two days, he had grown tired of her stubborn silence. The only way he knew to get her out of it, or to get her to do anything, was beating her until she screamed. The result of that was that Rachel, once again, ended up in Clara's clinic, this time too weak to talk.
Therefore the horrid state.
The nurse took care of Rachel's wounds as best she could, lining up the broken bones in the patient's hand after best ability but realising that the hand would never heal properly, fed her and gave her enough water, and painkillers, to last through the next day. Clara could barely believe that the young warrior was still alive, after all she had to live through.
Clara spoke to Gus, as she had to, about her patient, and advised him to let her rest for at least two days. Gus exploded, and lashed out at her, but Clara had picked the place and time well - in the cafeteria, at the same time the bosses were eating, only a few tables away. If Gus disturbed their peace they would not be pleased.
He was not mad enough to try. He stood, vibrating with anger, the chair behind him had fallen when he'd flown to his feet, but he slowly lowered the hand he had raised to strike her.
She lifted her glass and smiled at him, knowing her success. Gus pulled the chair back up and sank down on it, not taking his madly burning eyes from her.
"I'll decide when myself," he spat. "One week, one day, or one hour. I decide. She's my prisoner."
"And my patient. Keep out of my clinic, Gus. I told the bosses about your last escapade in there, and they were not happy about it. The entire point of the clinic is to be a place of peace and rest."
He stood up again. "Then you better stay in your clinic, woman, because set one foot outside and you'll know what defying me means."
He whirled around and began striding away.
"Was that a threat, Gus?" she called after him. He didn't answer, but she knew the reply without hearing it. She shivered. Her appetite was gone and she left the cafeteria to return to her patients.
When Clara returned to the clinic, Tobias was sitting outside Rachel's room. As Clara approached, he stood up, watching her with pleading eyes.
Clara sighed. "You know I can't help you, Tobias," she said.
"I'm not leaving until you do," he said again, the same words as before she had left, in exactly the same, flat tone of voice. "I'm staying here until you help me."
"What if Gus comes by? You know what he'll do if he catches you here."
There was a flash of fear over Tobias's face, but he stifled it surprisingly quickly and said; "He's no longer allowed here in the clinic."
"Do you actually think that'll stop him?"
He shivered, but then straightened and regarded her with a half-pleading, more-than-desperate, but still determined look. "I'm still not leaving."
"I've noticed."
"Just give me the key to her cell…" he pleaded.
"I can't," Clara said. "Leave me alone. Or I'll tell Gus you were here." She went into her office and planned to slam the door behind her, but he caught it and wrenched it back open, stepping into the doorway to keep her from closing it, one hand on the door, one on the doorframe.
There was something in his eyes that made her pull back.
"Don't you want to save Rachel?" he asked in a dangerously low voice.
"I…" Clara sighed. "I do work for the prison, Tobias." She put a hand in the left pocket of her long white coat and fidgeted with the keys inside it.
Tobias heard the soft rattle of metal and his gaze averted from her face towards her pocket., his expression calculating.
"Don't even think it," Clara warned, seeing and recognizing that look. "I'll set security on you, I swear I will. If I do you'll be locked up again, and powerless to help anyone. And if they catch you with keys, any keys at all…"
The tension in Tobias's shoulders relaxed as he realised she meant to carry through her threat. Clara was possibly the only ally he and Rachel had in the prison; and she would only help that far. She would have nothing to do with any escapes.
Nodding to herself, seeing that he had abandoned that crazy idea, Clara could turn her back to him without being too worried. She reached for a small, metal cupboard hanging on the wall, put a small, silver key in the lock and turned it slowly. Opening the cupboard, she neatly hung the other keys on their little hooks. She slammed the door shut in the same motion as she turned, gave Tobias an evaluating, warning look, and left the room.
Tobias glanced after her, but remained where he was, hands twitching. The door to the little cupboard had - by accident or on purpose, he couldn't tell - failed to close properly.
Rachel's hand was throbbing. Clara must have forgotten to fill up the painkillers…
She opened her eyes, ready to meet the by then familiar scene of the sickroom, but instead saw the rough walls of her own cell - familiar, yes; welcome, no.
She sighed heavily, closed her eyes, curled back up on her blanket and tried to ignore the throbbing in her hand. The bandage was gone - ripped off, the evening before. She remembered now. The officer had not been foolish enough to enter the clinic after being forbidden - he had sent a pack of his worst soldiers instead. They'd tore her out of that comfortable sickbed and dragged her back to the uninviting stone floor of her cell. And ripped away the bandage on her hand.
Her hand which now was more of a claw. She yearned to morph it away… she hated the sight of it. Crooked, bloody, useless, and broken.
Like the rest of me, she thought bitterly.
The sound outside her cell stirred her back to the present. At first she thought it was the officer, coming to see her again - anger steamed up. She hated him worse than her hand.
Then she heard the sound of running - two sets of running boots, disappearing down the corridor. The guards - leaving. Why? There was a short pause; she strained her ears, sitting up and staring at the door. Then a soft voice… "Rachel?"
Rachel's heart skipped a beat. That voice… she scrambled up to the door faster than she would have thought possible. "Tobias? Tobias, is that you?"
"I'm so glad you're awake," that same voice said, a voice she hadn't heard in years, a voice that was drenched with weariness and relief. "Listen, Rachel, are you okay? Doesn't matter, as long as you're alive… I love you, and I'm going to let you out, I've got the key…"
Rachel wasted no time wondering how he had gotten the key, how he had escaped his own cell… "Then hurry up before they come back!"
"I will."
The key was in the lock, and turning… the lock clicked once. The door was torn open and Rachel, who had been half-leaning towards it fell out… right into Tobias's arms.
She clung to his shoulder for a moment, then turned to look up at his face. They both dared a smile. Rachel swallowed, sighed, reached up to kiss him and then smiled again. "About time."
"I'd have come quicker, but I just got the key…" he tightened an arm around her waist, holding her up… he was in much better shape, she was glad to notice, almost unharmed except for a few bruises. "I've missed you." He bent down to kiss her forehead.
"I've missed you too," she replied, burying her head against his shoulder.
Then a hand was grabbing her hair and yanked her away from Tobias's grip, and another voice said; "And I'd have missed you both if you managed to escape!"
Rachel, startled, realised it was the officer. She struggled to break free, and Tobias charged with a cry of fury.
The officer brushed him away with a sweep of his arm. He caught Rachel's broken hand in his own and squeezed, making her gasp from the sudden pain, easily being forced down to her knees as her arm was twisted in his grip.
Tobias crawled up on all four and was about to get up when the officer aimed a kick that hit him straight in the face. He fell back, tumbled, and just as he stopped tumbling the officer kicked him again.
"Never do that!" he roared. "You didn't actually think you'd get away, birdbrain? DID YOU?!"
Rachel watched helplessly as two of the officer's soldiers appeared, grabbed Tobias by the arms and lifted him up. He tried to break free, but his motions were numb and mostly on automatic; and of course it was impossible.
The officer regarded him coldly, still cruelly crushing Rachel's broken hand in one of his own. "Can you hear me, bird-brain?" he said.
Tobias glanced up, nodded once, and his head fell back down as if in defeat. Rachel hated that look on his face. Hated it. Why didn't he fight? Why… He could at least try. He should try. She wrenched at her hand, following her own advice and attempting to break free, but as the officer yanked back she had to bite into her lip to avoid crying out.
"Remember what I told you," the officer sneered, still speaking to Tobias, ignoring Rachel as if she wasn't even there. "You knew the consequences. And still…" he glared at Tobias, but then shrugged. "Suit yourself."
With that, he set off purposefully down a corridor, dragging Rachel along. The guards followed with Tobias from a distance.
Rachel twisted her head around to look at him, and what she saw made her blood boil in anger.
Not even then did he fight.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
*glares at reader* Well, you didn't REALLY expect me to let them get away that easily, did you?
And I know Tobias not fighting is a bit OOC, but considering the situation it's not impossible. What's he supposed to do, anyway?
Besides, I like the idea. Get Rachel mad at him. Perfect.
Now then. Here's a question. I've planned and half-written an ending, but it is VERY depressing. Should I put that one up, or write a happier one?