Fate of Frailty Chapter 2

By Karen Hart

Author's note: After I read the original chapter after I'd submitted it, I realized that it could use some extending. And so, here's chapter 2! Hope you enjoy.

Helmer leaned forward with his elbows resting on his desk, and made a steeple of his fingers. "I see," he said to the man on the screen. "A fitting enough punishment for them, I suppose."

It'd taken six weeks to reach a sentence, six weeks for collection of evidence, to review the case, for counseling selection, for selection of court dates… Six weeks to reach a verdict: a sentence of fifty years to life (whichever ended first) in prison for all those that'd played a major part in the illegal experiments. Harris Biochemical, the pharmaceutical company that had employed these people, would suffer greatly.

The man on the screen, one William Brannhard, attorney, nodded. "Yes, sir. The sentence is already in effect. --To be honest, I'm surprised things went as quickly as they did."

"Oh? I'd think the outcome was pretty obvious from the beginning. We had more than enough evidence, after all," Helmer pointed out.

"Be that as it may, this sort of thing tends to drag on for months. I wonder why they didn't put up much of a fight?"

Helmer chuckled lightly. "Probably because having the two Godwin sisters testify against them throws a wrench into whatever defense they had planned."

Echoing the sound, Brannhard nodded. "You have a good point. Ah, how are they?" It was difficult to feel unconcerned for the two girls.

"I'd say they've been recovering quite well," the soldier replied, and changed the topic.

---

Mary yawned as she made her way into the large kitchen, blue eyes still hazy with sleep. "Morning," she mumbled drowsily to Gaignun and to her sister, both of whom appeared to have been up for quite some time. "Morning," they murmured back at her, Gaignun nodding politely at her, and Shelley smiling softly, something that Mary noticed her sister doing more often of late. Not that she minded. Unbidden, her face mirrored the expression.

"Rubedo's not up yet?" she asked with some surprise. Usually, it was hard for the redhead to stay asleep.

Shelley shook her head. "He snuck out a little while ago, I think."

"I see…" Mary's voice trailed off slowly. I wonder if he's okay…

---

Damn it, it's cold, Rubedo thought to himself bitterly, drawing his jacket tighter against his small frame, thankful that he'd remembered it at all in his haste to leave the house. He slumped down against the concrete wall of the cul de sac that had been his destination, running his hands through his habitually unkempt hair, and managed to shudder and sigh simultaneously. "Damn it," he hissed aloud, glad no one was there to see him then.

They'd probably tell him not to swear.

Rubedo pulled his knees up against his chest, wrapping thin arms around them. Nightmares again—no, not really nightmares, but the mental eggs from which they came. Wisps of white and purple laughter, the colors of mockery, his own perceived betrayal. He'd forced himself to awareness when he'd realized what was going on, knowing what was about to take place and wanting no part of it, even if he was part of it.

He shook his head. He did not want to think about it.

But that's why you came here, isn't it? A little voice nagged at him from the back of his mind. To this place specifically.

Shivering, he glanced around at his surroundings. He had chosen this place for a reason.

It was little more than a parking area for delivery vehicles, all gray concrete and faded parking stripes and oil stains. But it was as solitary and out of the way on the base as he could get, and the fact that it couldn't possibly be any more impersonal was a plus in his state of mind. There was nothing to bring his paler twin to mind, nothing reflective to play tricks at the corners of his eyes.

Of course, he didn't really need any of that, did he, when he had himself. He sighed.

My fault. All mine. No…no! It wasn't supposed to happen like that. They weren't…he wasn't… Rubedo's eyes watered over, while his mind refused to finish his thoughts. It hurt too much to address them fully. His throat clenched painfully, and he forced back a sob, wincing at the pain.

He scowled, trying to force the tears away; fourteen was much too old to be crying. Just don't…don't think about it. Calm breaths. Deep ones.

A soft touch at the edge of his mind interrupted his thoughts, light and unobtrusive. Better? Nigre—no, Gaignun—his brother had changed his name for reasons Rubedo didn't yet understand—checking in on him.

A little…

Come back when you're ready. Then Gaignun's voice faded, but the touch did not.

---

Peering over a glass of milk, Mary watched as Gaignun stared intently out the kitchen window, seemingly focused on one particular nondescript building. She swiveled in her chair slightly, trying to see whatever it was that had caught the dark haired teen's attention, but saw nothing but dull grays. She raised one small eyebrow, though he seemed not to notice. Finally, he turned around and faced her.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon."