Chapter Five
It was dark when he opened his eyes again. The room was warm, and he found it easier to sit up and stretch than it had been this morning. A movement in the corner caught his eye, and he froze as Sarah stood up from where she had been bent over one of the many monitors.
"Quatre?" Her voice was almost gentle.
"Yes, I'm awake," he replied, wondering what she was doing here, what she wanted, and wishing that she would leave soon.
She sat down on the chair beside the bed and regarded him, sitting up. Too late, he realized that he should still be lying down. She smiled. "I knew you were acting a little. I expected some weakness, but you seemed to have more than I'd anticipated."
Vaguely annoyed with himself, Quatre snapped, "How could you be sure with a disease that you had never tested on a human being before, especially with the addition of some sort of tranquilizer?"
"I had my hypothesis, and several lab-tests." Her smile grew. "I suppose you're still angry about all of that, Quatre? I am sorry, you know."
The smile was mocking and deliberate, meant to make his anger seem childish, foolish, unjustified. He refused to rise to the bait. "Sometimes being sorry isn't enough, Sarah."
She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Oh? I thought you were all-forgiving."
His voice began to speed up slightly, as though to hide the hint of pain that had risen up in it. "Sometimes even undoing the damage you've caused, if you can, isn't enough. Sometimes there isn't anything to be done that can ever fix things." He looked down at his hands, folded lightly on his knees. "Some things are beyond forgiveness, Sarah." He looked back up at her. "This was one of them. It was an attempt at murder, deliberate, thought-out, and cruel." He studied her face. "I'm not going to wake up one morning and be over it."
She bent her head slightly, mournfully. "What can I do, Quatre?"
He laughed, but stopped the moment he realized how bitter it sounded. "Why are you asking me? If I knew how to fix the unfixable, do you think that I would be in this position?" His eyes narrowed with unaccustomed hostility. "Perhaps this tendency to do evil runs in the blood," he told her, spitting out the sarcasm, slightly surprised at his own actions.
Her eyes widened with shock and hurt.
Quatre wondered if it was real, if he had actually managed to finally hurt her; or if it was still just an act. She could very easily know that he and Duo had planned on escaping soon, even if she hadn't been able to decipher their code. Most likely this whole scene had been planned out to get him to forgive her, to trust her again, and to give up whatever plan he and Duo might have been working on. Well, it wasn't going to work; not this time. He was tired of being manipulated so easily. It was possible they were just running into another trap, but it didn't seem likely. At any rate, no trap could be worse than the one they were in now.
"Where's Duo?" he asked, keeping his voice cold.
"He's across the hall, probably asleep. It's after eleven." Her voice shook as though with restrained tears.
"Can I go see him? I need to practice walking anyway." He refused to feel sorry for her. Even if her sadness was genuine, which he doubted, she had made her own decisions. Now she would have to reap the fruits, even if they did turn out to be poisonous.
"I suppose so," she replied, though she obviously didn't want to let him. But there really wasn't much of an excuse, unless she was going to stop pretending, and admit that this was a prison, not a hospital.
He leaned on her, a little more than he actually needed to. There was still no reason to let her realize that he was nearly up to full strength, though he didn't know how good his stamina might be. He could always use adrenaline shots, if Duo had been able to get hold of some, but he'd better not count on them.
As they passed through the doorway, her grip on his shoulder tightened dramatically and she hissed in his ear, "Don't think you've fooled me, brother-mine. I saw those tapes too. I don't know what you and Duo decided, but I saw your faces. You agreed to something, and I'm warning you now, don't even think about it. You're too valuable as a specimen to be killed, but the same can't be said of your little friend. Think about it, brother-mine. Think about it very carefully, and then rethink what you were going to do."
He turned away from her and looked into the darkened room, feeling sickened by her words and by her callousness to them. He knew he would never be able to smell that sort of perfume without feeling ill. How could she have changed her disposition so quickly?
"Why didn't you say any of that in there?" he asked softly.
"I didn't want the monitors to hear me." She laughed.
He frowned. So there had been microphones hidden in the room. He and Duo hadn't been as paranoid as he had thought.
Sarah kept talking. "Oh, those fools wanted me to make friends with you, try to rekindle the brother-sister bond. I told them it wouldn't work, but they insisted I try." She gripped his chin and turned his face towards her own, leaning towards him. "Were you fooled, little brother, even for an instant?"
He leaned against the doorframe for support and tried to push her away from him, "I may have been fooled for an moment, Sarah, but if so it was through wishful thinking, and I was quickly undeceived. Let go of me." He said the last part in a louder voice so that a passing nurse gave them a strange look.
She released him with a murderous glare and shoved him violently across the hall so that he stumbled against the wall. But even the pain was an almost welcome relief to the numbness that had surrounded him for so long. It let him know that he was very much alive, whether he liked it or not. He glanced up and so her cold blue eyes watching him with such fury. He straightened up and faced her.
"It was you who broke my violin, wasn't it," he commented thoughtfully. "I always thought it was you, but I was never sure."
"What?" she asked, clearly startled by the sudden change of topic.
"My violin," he repeated calmly. "One morning I opened the case and found it almost completely smashed into smithereens. I was heartbroken and furious. I thought that you were the one who had done it, but I had no evidence. But now I'm positive."
She stared at him, then laughed. "Are you angry about that too, now?"
He shook his head. "Not really, though it nearly made me cry at the time. I'm just curious as to why you did it."
"Can't you guess?"
"Of course I can guess. But I'd rather if you just told me yourself."
In one movement she had crossed the hall to stand beside him and look down at his face from her almost one foot height advantage. "You say you almost cried, Quatre? Think about it a bit more. Why do you think I did it? I did it to make you sad, brother-mine. Isn't that obvious?"
"I'm rather glad," he replied. It was true, but he was also saying to startle her a little.
It worked. "What? Why?"
"I'm glad that your hatred of me isn't anything new. It's one less thing to feel guilty for." He pulled away from her then, and slipped into Duo's room, silent as a ghost, leaving her standing in the hall, confused and annoyed.
It was dark when he opened his eyes again. The room was warm, and he found it easier to sit up and stretch than it had been this morning. A movement in the corner caught his eye, and he froze as Sarah stood up from where she had been bent over one of the many monitors.
"Quatre?" Her voice was almost gentle.
"Yes, I'm awake," he replied, wondering what she was doing here, what she wanted, and wishing that she would leave soon.
She sat down on the chair beside the bed and regarded him, sitting up. Too late, he realized that he should still be lying down. She smiled. "I knew you were acting a little. I expected some weakness, but you seemed to have more than I'd anticipated."
Vaguely annoyed with himself, Quatre snapped, "How could you be sure with a disease that you had never tested on a human being before, especially with the addition of some sort of tranquilizer?"
"I had my hypothesis, and several lab-tests." Her smile grew. "I suppose you're still angry about all of that, Quatre? I am sorry, you know."
The smile was mocking and deliberate, meant to make his anger seem childish, foolish, unjustified. He refused to rise to the bait. "Sometimes being sorry isn't enough, Sarah."
She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Oh? I thought you were all-forgiving."
His voice began to speed up slightly, as though to hide the hint of pain that had risen up in it. "Sometimes even undoing the damage you've caused, if you can, isn't enough. Sometimes there isn't anything to be done that can ever fix things." He looked down at his hands, folded lightly on his knees. "Some things are beyond forgiveness, Sarah." He looked back up at her. "This was one of them. It was an attempt at murder, deliberate, thought-out, and cruel." He studied her face. "I'm not going to wake up one morning and be over it."
She bent her head slightly, mournfully. "What can I do, Quatre?"
He laughed, but stopped the moment he realized how bitter it sounded. "Why are you asking me? If I knew how to fix the unfixable, do you think that I would be in this position?" His eyes narrowed with unaccustomed hostility. "Perhaps this tendency to do evil runs in the blood," he told her, spitting out the sarcasm, slightly surprised at his own actions.
Her eyes widened with shock and hurt.
Quatre wondered if it was real, if he had actually managed to finally hurt her; or if it was still just an act. She could very easily know that he and Duo had planned on escaping soon, even if she hadn't been able to decipher their code. Most likely this whole scene had been planned out to get him to forgive her, to trust her again, and to give up whatever plan he and Duo might have been working on. Well, it wasn't going to work; not this time. He was tired of being manipulated so easily. It was possible they were just running into another trap, but it didn't seem likely. At any rate, no trap could be worse than the one they were in now.
"Where's Duo?" he asked, keeping his voice cold.
"He's across the hall, probably asleep. It's after eleven." Her voice shook as though with restrained tears.
"Can I go see him? I need to practice walking anyway." He refused to feel sorry for her. Even if her sadness was genuine, which he doubted, she had made her own decisions. Now she would have to reap the fruits, even if they did turn out to be poisonous.
"I suppose so," she replied, though she obviously didn't want to let him. But there really wasn't much of an excuse, unless she was going to stop pretending, and admit that this was a prison, not a hospital.
He leaned on her, a little more than he actually needed to. There was still no reason to let her realize that he was nearly up to full strength, though he didn't know how good his stamina might be. He could always use adrenaline shots, if Duo had been able to get hold of some, but he'd better not count on them.
As they passed through the doorway, her grip on his shoulder tightened dramatically and she hissed in his ear, "Don't think you've fooled me, brother-mine. I saw those tapes too. I don't know what you and Duo decided, but I saw your faces. You agreed to something, and I'm warning you now, don't even think about it. You're too valuable as a specimen to be killed, but the same can't be said of your little friend. Think about it, brother-mine. Think about it very carefully, and then rethink what you were going to do."
He turned away from her and looked into the darkened room, feeling sickened by her words and by her callousness to them. He knew he would never be able to smell that sort of perfume without feeling ill. How could she have changed her disposition so quickly?
"Why didn't you say any of that in there?" he asked softly.
"I didn't want the monitors to hear me." She laughed.
He frowned. So there had been microphones hidden in the room. He and Duo hadn't been as paranoid as he had thought.
Sarah kept talking. "Oh, those fools wanted me to make friends with you, try to rekindle the brother-sister bond. I told them it wouldn't work, but they insisted I try." She gripped his chin and turned his face towards her own, leaning towards him. "Were you fooled, little brother, even for an instant?"
He leaned against the doorframe for support and tried to push her away from him, "I may have been fooled for an moment, Sarah, but if so it was through wishful thinking, and I was quickly undeceived. Let go of me." He said the last part in a louder voice so that a passing nurse gave them a strange look.
She released him with a murderous glare and shoved him violently across the hall so that he stumbled against the wall. But even the pain was an almost welcome relief to the numbness that had surrounded him for so long. It let him know that he was very much alive, whether he liked it or not. He glanced up and so her cold blue eyes watching him with such fury. He straightened up and faced her.
"It was you who broke my violin, wasn't it," he commented thoughtfully. "I always thought it was you, but I was never sure."
"What?" she asked, clearly startled by the sudden change of topic.
"My violin," he repeated calmly. "One morning I opened the case and found it almost completely smashed into smithereens. I was heartbroken and furious. I thought that you were the one who had done it, but I had no evidence. But now I'm positive."
She stared at him, then laughed. "Are you angry about that too, now?"
He shook his head. "Not really, though it nearly made me cry at the time. I'm just curious as to why you did it."
"Can't you guess?"
"Of course I can guess. But I'd rather if you just told me yourself."
In one movement she had crossed the hall to stand beside him and look down at his face from her almost one foot height advantage. "You say you almost cried, Quatre? Think about it a bit more. Why do you think I did it? I did it to make you sad, brother-mine. Isn't that obvious?"
"I'm rather glad," he replied. It was true, but he was also saying to startle her a little.
It worked. "What? Why?"
"I'm glad that your hatred of me isn't anything new. It's one less thing to feel guilty for." He pulled away from her then, and slipped into Duo's room, silent as a ghost, leaving her standing in the hall, confused and annoyed.
