.x.
I didn't sleep that night. I sat in the corner of my bed, knees pulled tight against my chest, and did not fight the tumultuous emotions I suddenly found myself besieged with. I didn't cry, to my credit, but I did remain silent and motionless as I pondered the current bewildering, obscure, and somewhat frightening state of my existence. More than once Cora's words—"Maybe it's here because it likes you"—would reverberate throughout my head, and the implications of this made me close my eyes in quiet despair. I didn't hate Scar, no, but I wished I did. Oh, how I wished.
Dawn came as it always did, and not long after Ana came knocking at my door. She took one look at me huddled as I was and ordered Cora, who had accompanied her, out of the room. Seeing the blood that had seeped through the shoulder of my shirt, she once again became the doctor I had first known her as, and ordered me to accompany her to the infirmary. I did as she asked and when she demanded to know what had happened the night previous I told her about my run in with Reed. Of course I said nothing of the hunters, and I knew that when she confronted him about it, Reed wouldn't either.
Ana's expression became livid upon the completion of my explanation, and her hands were actually shaking in rage as she applied salve and new gauze to my reopened wound. It wasn't as bad as I had feared . She examined the rest of me and explained in a tight, clipped voice that I was almost healed. This gave rise to a new wave of apprehension within me, for once I was healed, what would the hunters do? But I pushed these thoughts away, and listened as Ana swore up and down that she was going to kill Reed.
I almost wished she could.
I left the infirmary then, and made my way back to my room. Ana had gone to find the head of Weyland Industries in order to give him a tongue lashing, and I felt slightly vindicated by this, for Ana was ferocious when angered. I lay back down on the bed and felt the weariness that had so eluded me the night previous settle over me, and I gave into it.
.x.
I spent the next three days in utter isolation. Ana, having returned to tell me she'd threatened Reed to within an inch of his life, guessed that my melancholy and xenophobia were side effects of Reed's attack. The truth, however, was that I simply wanted nothing to do with anybody. The only place I felt even remotely safe was in my cabin. Ana agreed to bring me meals, warning me as she did so that Reed would wish to speak to me again. I nodded grimly, for I had already expected as much, and asked her in turn when the Piper Maru would hoist anchor and begin on its journey to rejoin the rest of the world. Her answer was not heartening. Resolute and certain that something of value could still be found on Bouvetoya, Reed wouldn't give permission to leave the island until such things could be found. This made me even more disconsolate, for what he searched for simply did not exist.
It was on the eve of the third day that Ana brought Reed to my room. I had just finished my meal and was sitting at the desk, reading a biochemical industries magazine. Ana knocked once and pushed the door open hesitantly as I called her in. I half turned in my seat to see behind her small form Reed's taller, leaner one as he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. I looked a question at Ana, but Reed spoke before she could.
"I have an expedition going out to the island one more time," he said, watching me. "Ana says you're well enough to move about. You will accompany me."
"There's nothing out there," I replied wearily.
"And she's told you that," Ana added pointedly.
He didn't even look at her. "I know she has. I am still going. And she," he put his hands on the desk and brought his face down to my level, "is coming with me." His tone was almost genial, as though the previous night hadn't happened, and he straightened. "You're the only one who has been out there, Ms. Woods. You know which places are safe and which ones aren't. Consider it a final sweep, before we leave for good." He smiled down at me. One of his teeth was chipped. I was certain it hadn't been like that before.
Good.
"I don't know what you're looking for." I said flatly, although I most certainly did. "I won't be of any help to you."
"She hasn't been feeling well, besides," Ana said, and I suddenly felt like giving her a hug for her blatant and blunt defense. "And I'm sure she doesn't want to go back there and be reminded of what she went through."
"Or maybe she just doesn't want to come because she has something to hide?" he questioned. "Ms. Woods, you will come with me or I will hold you responsible for the deaths of not only the rest of the team, but my father as well." He leaned back down. "But I know you have nothing to hide, right? Ms. Woods?"
"No more than you," I murmured. I wasn't surprised, not really. I had suspected he would pull something like this.
"She's not completely healed, Reed," Ana bit the words out furiously, voice fairly trembling with anger.
He looked annoyed, but eyed my bandaged shoulder for a moment. "Fine," he said at length, "But the moment she can travel, we go. We've wasted enough time here as it is." He glanced over his shoulder at Ana. "I'd like a word alone with our guest, and I'm sure you have something vital to do?"
For a moment they stood, locked in their glares. Ana dearly wanted to disobey, I knew, but when all was said and done Reed was her superior. With a quick, apologetic glance at me she slipped through the door, closing it hard behind her. Schooling my face into an impassive mask, preparing myself for the worst, I waited to see what it was Reed had to say.
All pretense of civility between us was gone. "I can and will follow through on the accusation," he growled, "unless you get me what I want. Do you understand? I will make your life hell if you disobey me."
Oh, I understood. I understood perfectly. There were enough holes in my story that he could accuse me and be believed, and adding to that the fact that he would have the best prosecution money could buy, I had no choice but to acquiesce. He had me and he knew it. I could see the triumph lurking in his heavy lidded eyes. Instead of acknowledging that fact, I said softly, "You really are quite the big man when the hunters aren't around."
His eyes narrowed in displeasure as the barb hit home. "Just keep up your part, Ms. Woods. I will be following your progress very closely."
Without another word, he left, closing the door very carefully behind him. Ana reentered immediately, scowling.
"I'm sorry, Lex," she said earnestly, but I shook my head and gave her a tired smile.
"It's alright, Ana. You can't help the fact that your boss is an asshole."
She snorted, amused, and shook her head before eyeing me. "You look tired. You should get some sleep."
I nodded, "I will."
"Again, I'm really sorry."
"I know, Ana."
"Ok. Good night." She left me then, closing the door quietly behind her.
.x.
I sat staring at the wall a long time after Ana, lost again in thoughts better kept locked away. When finally I couldn't take my self-exile anymore, when the voices in my head threatened to overwhelm me with their vehemence, I stood, donned my outdoor gear, and left my room. It was by now late at night, and the ship's corridors were lit only by auxiliary lights. I made my way purposefully, my body feeling better than it had in a long, long while. The trick to healing quickly, I thought ruefully, was to avoid Scar.
Scar … my slight amusement abruptly faded.
I wandered until I found stairs leading above deck, and I realized that I had never been in this part of the ship before. Stepping out into the incredibly chill night air, I pulled my hood up snugly over my head and walked along the length of the railing. The aurora australis were again in magnificent display, and I watched them with appreciation unabashed. I could almost forget, as I stood out here surrounded by the untamed beauty of the Antarctic, who I was and what troubles perpetually followed me. My state of blissful ignorance died as I realized I was no longer alone. Scale watched me from some several feet away, uncloaked and so silent that his appearance startled me.
I did not want this, did not want to face the hunters and all they reminded me of, and so I turned my back on Scale and walked quickly back in the direction I had come. I felt certain relief as the stairs came into view—I would be able to make it back to my room, after all—and then Scar materialized before me, and my heart sank.
He rumbled his greeting, reaching, as he always did, for the mark on my cheek. I sidestepped, eyes averted, wondering how exactly I'd managed to get such a fearsome creature enamored of me—if that was indeed the case. When he snarled I had no choice but to look back at him, and I did so with a heavy sigh. How to discourage a friendship—or any other relationship, for that matter—with an eight foot tall, incredibly fierce sentient being wasn't exactly something covered in any institute of learning I'd ever attended. The fact of the matter was I really didn't mind Scar. He was like an overgrown friend, an extremely violent one, but a friend nonetheless.
And oh, how that fact bothered me.
Finally, resignedly, I said, "Hello."
He didn't try to touch me again, and I was glad. Instead he tilted his head in his curious matter, metal bound hair clattering over his shoulders, and held out his hand. Bemused, wary, I stared at the extended limb for a moment before shrugging inwardly and laying my own hand on top of his. Those large, clawed fingers closed over my skin, and I wondered again at the reptilian texture of his flesh. I half expected him to try and lead me somewhere, but all he did was run the tips of his fingers slowly, gently over the back of my hand. It was a calming gesture, a soothing gesture, and I let it do what it was meant to do until I noticed what his other hand held.
A needle full of sedative … one of the number missing from the infirmary …
I must have made a sound, for as I attempted to wrench away he tightened his hold on my hand and pulled me closer. I fought him, swearing, shouting, kicking, but I simply could not break his hold. The needle was prepped, ready for insertion, but there was no way in hell I was going to stand by and meekly let him administer it. He figured this out after several moments, for I wouldn't hold still enough for him to give it to me. And so it was that he propelled me backwards, still holding my hand, until I came up flat against the wall.
I was screaming by this point, my voice carrying clearly in the stillness of the night air. Someone will come, I told myself fiercely. Someone will find us. Someone will help me. I fought harder, using the wall to brace my weight and kicking out with all I had at Scar's legs. I connected several times; his grunts of irritation where enough to let me know that I wasn't really hurting him, but I was most certainly pissing him off. I didn't have time to dwell on the hazards of provoking his ire, because quite suddenly he had pinned me with the entire bulk of his large body, and I could not move.
"You son of a bitch!" I screamed. "Why are you doing this?"
There was unsurprisingly no answer and with the hand still holding mine, he splayed my arm out to the side until it was up and over my head. Holding it there firmly, he tugged at the sleeves of my coat and clothing until my flesh was exposed to just below my elbow. I couldn't fight, I couldn't get away, I couldn't move—
He shifted slightly to give the hand gripping the needle access and I knew then that there was no point in fighting. This was going to happen and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. A small part of me hated him for this and I took solace in that. I stopped struggling and became simply limp, pressed between his body and the wall. He noticed this, and his growling became abruptly softer, quieter.
"Do it," I whispered, staring at the ground.
He didn't move for a moment—contemplating my words? But then I felt the familiar prick of the needle in my flesh, felt the seep of the sedative sliding under my skin. When he was done he released me, stepped back, and I remained docilely where I was. From behind Scar I could see Scale and the other unnamed hunter, both uncloaked and quietly observing, and I felt a surge of rage towards them both. Damn them all, damn their race, damn their twisted, sadistic values …
I slid to the floor as the pleasant weariness began to fill me, keeping my knees tucked close and my hands loose at my side. Scar crouched before me, his chittering trill inquisitive, and when he reached out to touch my mark I hadn't the will or energy to move away. And so I watched him, staring into the reflective surface of his visor, as the sedative overran my senses and my thoughts until the lids of my eyes could no longer support their own weight.
Before I was lost to sleep, I wondered faintly where he was taking me.
.x.
