Hello hello, and welcome back. Fair warning; this one gets dark. Really dark. I hope the issues presented in this chapter do not cause anyone any distress, but if you feel they might, feel free to message me and I will give you a list of trigger warnings for this work. I don't like to have them here because spoilers, but I am happy to accommodate anyone privately. I do promise that the dark bits will ease up... potentially very soon, but they will continue to crop up here and there because I can't write much else.
As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I will see you at the end. - J


Chapter 5: One of them

Sophie yelped as a shock of cold yanked her abruptly from sleep.
"What the hell?!" She spluttered and coughed, apparently having inhaled ice cold water as it was dumped over her head.

Aha.

A pair of mischievous grins peered over the end of her bed at her, and between them, Jones stood leaning against a support beam, a smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth.
"Good work girls. Head down to the bus." The head girl waved them on and Tara and Tania skipped off, apparently pleased with themselves. Sophie watched them go before turning her scowl to Jones.
"You slept in; we're going to the gallery today. Have you seen Annabelle?" She spoke while Sophie dragged herself out of bed, fishing for her towel to dry off her hair.
"Not since last night." She glanced around the girl at Annabelle's perfectly made bed with a small frown. Where'd she go? Still, Jones shrugged and stepped away from the beam.
"We'll find her when we get back, we're going to Miss Fritton's office to tell her about the trip, hurry up." With that she strode off. Sophie sighed and set about getting dressed, glad for the immediate distraction to keep her from dwelling on the night before. Within two minutes, she was jogging out of the dorm and nearly directly into a waiting Head girl.
"Ready? Let's go."

Everyone was waiting in the entrance hall. They all seemed pretty upbeat, probably due to the idea that they weren't going to have to leave St. Trinian's, or potentially the prospect of committing a felony, one or the other... Maybe both.

Honestly, all the girls seemed pretty damn attached to this place. It didn't make sense; a school was a school regardless of how strict, or in this case allowing, the teachers were. All schools had head girls, hierarchy and sports teams. On the face of things, St. Trinian's was just another school, so why the fuck was everyone fighting to keep it here?

She was pulled from her thoughts as they entered the headmistress's office, where they located Annabelle, looking incredibly sheepish beside a stern faced (that was a weird sight) Camilla.

Panic swelled in Sophie's chest. She wouldn't have... would she?

She fought to keep her composure as she leaned against the wall behind Jones; securing her view of the entire room while taking herself out of central focus. Today, however, it offered no comfort; she had a bad feeling about this.
"Miss, we're going to borrow the bus for a quick trip to-"
"The national Gallery." Miss Fritton cut Jones off mid-sentence, her tone grave.
"Annabelle told me all about it, and what you plan to do with one of the paintings there." Her gaze homed in on the head girl and Sophie resisted the urge to slam her face into her hand.

Damn it Annabelle!

Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered.

Everyone turned murderous expressions toward her ridiculous cousin, who, to her credit, didn't flinch. Sophie repressed a heavy sigh and tuned back into her Aunt's speech, figuring it was probably important.

"...even hostage taking, but I've been proud to say the girls of St. Trinian's have never stooped to common or garden theft. I'm sorry girls, I'm touched, I really am, but the answer's no." She sniffled and blew her nose, apparently choked up. Sophie rolled her eyes and shoved away from the wall, following the train of angry girls out of the office.
"What if we just sort of… borrowed it?" Annabelle perked up a little and Sophie groaned as every rage-filled pair of eyes in the room fell back onto her cousin.

There really would be no saving this girl.

"Oh, supergrass speaks." The venom in Jones' voice practically vibrated through the air and Annabelle did flinch at that, which was entirely valid, Jones could be pretty damn scary. Still, she recovered quickly, leaping into her explanation with a trembling voice.
"There was a man, in France... In 1911-" Her stammering was getting them no-where and Sophie was almost tempted to walk out.
"Do you mean Mona Lisa scam?" Polly stepped back around the door frame (she'd been half way out), a surprised but thoughtful look on her face. Sophie's head whipped between the two as Annabelle nodded vigorously.

What the hell were they talking about?

"Annabelle Fritton you are full of surprises." Camilla muttered and smiled at her niece. Polly looked impressed too, but everyone else seemed torn between confusion and annoyance. Sophie was glad she wasn't the only one lost here.
"But where would we find someone unscrupulous enough to buy such a well-known painting on the black market?" Camilla continued, pressing a finger to her lips in thought, however, at that point, Sophie's eyes flew back to Annabelle, who had a decidedly far too smug expression on her face.
"Well I know someone. Someone who deals in dodgy art, someone who wants to turn St. Trinians into-"
"A boutique hotel." Camilla looked like she'd just found the holy grail.
"An unconscionable... shit. A complete and utter-"
"Girly." Their aunt cut her off before she got too lost in that line of thought. A fair call in Sophie's opinion, the fact that Annabelle had cursed at all was a shocker.
"Girls, come over here." The headmistress waved them all forward and Sophie took up a good space by the window. Whatever this was, it was going to be good. That said, she made a mental note to slap Annabelle around the head at first opportunity.

Damn woman nearly gave her a heart-attack.

Camilla explained the plan to them and Sophie could feel her grin growing by the second. She glanced at Jones in the corner of her eye and found her with a similar expression. Like children in a sweet shop. Who could blame them really? Stealing the painting, selling a copy and getting the reward for returning the original. It was nothing short of genius and got them double their cash.

Standing a little further back from the planning group, she saw something odd. There was a familiarity here, a strange closeness to the group gathered around the desk, planning away. It hit her like a slap to the face; Camilla wasn't just aunt to her and Annabelle. She cared about these girls, all of them. They were family to her, maybe even children. Damn, that was too weird… She repressed the thought as it settled uncomfortably in her gut. Years of habits kicked in, setting alarm bells ringing in her ears. What was she even doing thinking of this? Who cared why they were all so attached to the place? It wasn't her business. She yanked her attention back to what was going on around her just as everyone was getting ready to leave; they were still going to have to case the gallery and find out what they were up against.

As they all filed out, Sophie could have sworn she caught a knowing look on her aunt's face.

The bus ride there was interesting, to say the least.

The Tottys 'borrowed' the driver so the twins took up his seat, prompting the English teacher, Miss Dickenson, to snatch a bottle of cider from one of the chavs and down the lot. Sophie grinned; she had a bet going with Andrea that she'd be drinking before her second week. The emo girl scowled at her from across the bus and Sophie made a mental note to get her to pay up later. She wasn't betting for the fun of it; she had to make money somehow.

Though she had every confidence in the twins driving abilities, Sophie moved to stand beside them. She'd had some time to witness the Terrible Two over the last few weeks, and quite frankly, next to Jones, they were probably the most dangerous students at the school. They knew everything about everyone, had a hand in almost everything, and could get to anyone they wanted without fearing major repercussions from Jones. The Head girl seemed to have a soft spot for the pair, but it would be very hard for her to use them against her, young though they may be, it would be like sticking your hand through fire to grab a single stick; she'd be biting off far more than even she could chew if she took the pair on. Still, where Jones lead, they followed, so for now, they seemed to be okay with her and honestly... She couldn't say she particularly disliked them either. They were kind of adorable.

"We do actually have to get there girls, you can cause a few crashes on the way home, how's that?" She smirked and the girls grinned, nodding their agreement. They might have said something too but Sophie was too distracted by her own wording.

'On the way home'

She shook her head, refusing to chalk it up to anything other than phrasing on their behalf.

Their arrival at the gallery put a battle charge to shame; in both decibels and organisation. The first wave was the first and second years, ploughing their way through the crowds. They sent police and pedestrians alike flying out of their path. The second wave of older girls strode casually, but with purpose, after them, unhindered by the crowds that remained parted like the red sea.

Once inside, they split up. Sophie stayed behind Jones, hands deep in her pockets as she watched girl after girl break away from the group, spreading out through the gallery to map all paths. About half of them were rigged with cameras, so they would be able to run through the footage back at school and work out a solid floor plan. Nearer to the painting, they deployed Chelsea to find out what they were up against. The taller girl hadn't spoken to her since the night before, but one of the new hickeys on her neck was pretty visible. Jones hadn't commented yet, but she'd definitely seen it.

Sophie ran a tongue over her teeth in thought. Did it really matter if Jones knew it was her? She clearly already suspected.

She half listened to Chloe and Taylor discuss how the girl in the painting could look better with hoop earrings and rolled her eyes. However, at Chelsea's return they, thankfully, shut up, and everyone turned to pay attention.

As she ran through the list of security measures Sophie attempted to plot out a path around each, she had a few ideas… but nothing completely plausible. Apparently the twins were doing something similar as Jones looked to them for a general assessment. Their enthusiasm was sweet, but everyone's mood dropped like a slab of granite at her next question:
"How do we get in to the building in the first place?"

Damn it…

"We need some kind of cover. Any bright ideas?" Jones looked to them all and one by one they shook their heads, Sophie included. There was nothing she could think of that would give them enough cause to be in this place for an extended period of time, let alone while it was closed.

They all sighed and started walking back.

Polly moved immediately to Jones' side as they approached, but before any of them could explain the issue, a voice rang out over the hall.
"It's such a shame none of you want to give school challenge a shot, it would be such good fun. I only mention it because the final takes place right here." They all stopped dead in their tracks, the still slightly drunk English teacher now the subject of everyone's utmost attention. Quite frankly it was probably the only time anyone had paid attention, she wasn't making much of an impression with the students.
"What did you say?" Jones called out and she turned, apparently nonplussed by the urgent expressions around her.
"Only that the final will be televised here, in the grand hall." She walked through the door in question and grins spread through the room like wildfire.

Thank you, Miss Dickenson.

Back at school, Sophie sat at the back of the room as they ran through the plan, her feet up on a table and her hands clasped behind her head. It was a sound plan, using everyone's best skills and carefully worked around any issues the museum's security could provide. There was only one problem really.

She wasn't involved in any of it.

She resisted a frown and remained impassive. Refusing to even think about the possibility that her lack of involvement upset her.

Her mind rarely did as it was told.

By the time the meeting ended she was seething. Not because she wanted to help, but that she wasn't being used for her talents. She had more experience breaking the law than half the girls in this room put together. She was clever and resourceful. Why the fuck wasn't she involved?!

Everyone left slowly but surely, the Posh Totty trio had a different meeting to get to regarding PR, since they were the ones who would be participating in the actual competition, and everyone else wanted to get to lunch. Sophie lingered behind, her eyes on Jones, who had remained staring at the plan board, apparently lost in thought.

She waited, leaning against the wall behind the older girl, an emotionless mask hiding her anger.

When Jones finally turned around Sophie resisted the urge to fold her arms like a sulking three year old, keeping her tone neutral and tucking her hands into her pockets.
"During all this, what do I do?" She arched a brow, searching the older girl's eyes for some kind of hint to her reasoning. Did she really just not think her useful?

If Jones was surprised by her presence, it didn't show, she looked at her for a moment or two before turning away to turn off the computer.
"We don't need you for anything." Her tone was dismissive, careless. Sophie grit her teeth.
"Bullshit." She ground out. Jones turned to look at her, a brow arched.
"You need all the help you can get. Why not me?" She stepped away from the wall, her hands still firmly in her pockets to prevent herself from gesturing wildly. Jones' expression remained cold, her eyes even more so, the answer written clear in them.

She didn't trust her.

With a growl of pure frustration, Sophie turned on her heel. Stalking out of the room and not even looking back as she slammed the classroom door shut behind her.

She moved swiftly up to the roof, viciously kicking the door shut and throwing her weight into a punch to the wall. The pain of it radiated down her arm and shook her shoulder, but she ignored it in lieu of an angry shout at nothing in particular.

What did she have to do?

She'd tried impressing them, she'd tried helping them, she'd bargained, she'd flirted, she'd even made sacrifices for fucks sake. Nothing worked on the damn woman.

Fucking, cold, untouchable Kelly fucking Jones.

Except she wasn't cold, was she? Sophie had seen her with Polly, with the twins, she was nice to them. Just never to her.

She paced furiously while she thought.

Why did she even care?! There were so many ways to get at the bloody girl even without getting close to her first. It would be easy! Hit someone close to her, pull a prank that humiliated her before the entire school, drag her down. Take her power, use the fact Camilla was her aunt to her advantage and whip the rug out from under her feet. Hell, she could probably drop Annabelle in her place, that'd fuck her up something chronic.

She growled in annoyance and shoved a hand through her hair.

There was just something about the woman's complete…

Perfection!

The word split through her mind like a clap of thunder and she kicked a nearby lawn chair, sending it flying off of the roof.

Then she stopped. A thought bursting through the storm in her mind like a sledgehammer.

Was that it?

It would be so easy to just pull her down, too easy to just kick the step out from under her and watch her fall. The easy route was boring.

She didn't want her to fall, she wanted her to hang.

She wanted to slip a noose around her neck without her even noticing until it was far too late.

That was it. It had to be. Jones was quick and cunning; she was a born leader and a strong strategist. She was beautiful and charismatic, persuasive and intimidating.

She was everything and more.

Flawless.

And Sophie was going to watch her burn.

She sat down on the edge of the wall with a heavy huff, one leg dangling over into thin air. This would be the biggest game she'd ever played. The most complicated, the most difficult, the most memorable. She would throw everything she had into it. Jones deserved nothing less.

Fuck this school. It didn't matter if the lessons were kind of fun, or if the other students didn't hate her. She didn't care if she had friends, or was getting good grades, or if her aunt was running the place. She would do this and leave. Nothing else would matter.

Not even her escape route.

Her mind set, she stood, leaving the roof.

Before she could change her mind she strode straight into Camilla's office, the woman looked surprised to see her but smiled.
"What can I do for you girly?" She sounded genuinely confused.
"Have you got my mother's number?" She moved to the cabinet and poured herself a whiskey, downing it in one before pouring another for herself and one for the headmistress.

She returned to find the number written on a post-it beside the phone on the desk. She had her mobile, but she needed to do this right.

It only rang twice before her mother's voice came through.

"Hello?"
"Hey mum."
"Sophie?" She sounded, understandably, a mix of angry and confused.
"Just calling to say I won't be coming home for the holidays... Or ever, in fact, I quite like it here." She felt a smile pull at the corners of her lips at her mother's surprised tone.
"This is St. Trinian's we're talking about?" Her derisive tone was probably deserved, but Sophie frowned none the less, she had to play a part after all.
"Yes Mum. I'm sure." She was firm, reaching for her whiskey with her free hand.
"Your choice. Bye." Her mother hung up before Sophie could say anything else.

The reality of what she'd just done hit her like a brick and she set the phone down before she threw it across the room. The game was on; she'd severed her way out of this place. Kelly wouldn't be able to see her preparing an escape because she didn't have one. She looked, to all the world, like she had decided to dedicate herself to this place.

After all, only a madman would burn the only life raft before they sank the ship.

Camilla jolted her from her slow descent into madness as she threw an arm over her shoulders.
"Welcome to the fold girlie." She smirked and Sophie downed her glass, elation and trepidation warring inside her.

She had no choice but to play now.
"They tap the phone lines around here, don't they?" She kept her eyes on the desk, allowing false embarrassment to seep into her tone.
"Of course they do, my dear." Camilla chuckled, oblivious.

If this didn't help, she didn't know what would.

When she finally made it back up to the dorms she found Jones waiting at the top of the stairs, a disturbingly serious expression on her face. Sophie sighed, running a recently bandaged (yet again), hand through her hair and throwing on a convincing enough mask of remorse.
"Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier…" She trailed off as she watched a smile form on the head girl's face.
"Still want to help?" She tilted her head slightly and, acting sufficiently dumbfounded, Sophie nodded.

Jones smirked and jerked her head towards her bedroom door.

"Come on then." She walked in ahead of Sophie, leaving her to mask a smirk that was threatening to break her cover for a minute before righting herself and following her in.

This was going to be easier than she thought.

She shut the door behind her and stepped into the middle of the room, soaking in every detail she could.

Jones had a double bed, two end tables, one holding a lamp and a copy of… The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest… Not bad. A desk with a laptop, currently closed but not shut down, it was likely password protected though, so a dead end for now; Jones didn't seem the type to leave her password taped to the underside of her desk. A door at the back of the room was slightly ajar, revealing white tile; the Head girl's private bathroom. There were no pictures from home, no obvious mementos she could spot, just a chest of draws, a cupboard and a vanity table, with wooden box sitting open beside a brush and small collection of makeup. The infamous chokers all sat neatly inside, likely in some kind of order. She was interrupted in her examination of the room as Jones emerged from the cupboard with a bottle of Trinski and two shot glasses in hand. She nodded to the bed and Sophie sat, compliant. Jones sat beside her and yanked a small side table over to set the glasses down while she cracked open the bottle.
"I figured you could use a drink." The older girl smirked slightly and Sophie wasted no time in throwing back the shot, cringing slightly at the taste. She didn't like it much better than last time, though this... tasted a little watered down.

Kelly Jones, the most sensible woman who ever lived.

"Well, you were right about that." She flashed a grin as Jones drank her own. The woman barely winced, the only tell was a slight crease between her brows and a twitch in her jaw.

After a moment, she began pouring the second round, speaking in a tone that was all business.
"Right, we're going to need you in the van with Polly, on standby for anything that could and probably will, go wrong." Sophie nodded once.
"I can handle that." She shrugged and picked up her shot before continuing.
"Now, onto more important business." She kept her expression serious as Jones arched a questioning brow.
"Why do you have two glasses in your room? Have people in here often?" She threw back the shot and exhaled through the pain with a grin that was likely more a grimace, but had the desired effect as the other girl laughed, a proper laugh, emptying her glass in one.
"Actually no, it's just always good to have a spare handy." She smirked and it was Sophie's turn to arch a brow. The Trinski mixing with the whisky already in her system and telling her to push it.
"So no-one's been in here before?" Jones missed a beat in pouring them both another shot, and Sophie could've sworn she saw a faint blush reach her cheeks for a second, but the moment quickly passed as the woman regained her balance.
"Well you know, not everyone goes through a big dramatic declaration of loyalty." She winked and handed over the glass, drinking first this time while Sophie spluttered. Obviously she knew the girl would have heard about her call to her mother, but she had to at least pretend to be embarrassed about it. She downed her drink to avoid answering, sulking at nothing.

The night moved on and they made their way through half the bottle, talking about the heist, everything that could go wrong. Gradually, as the dangerous poison that was Trinski took effect, their conversation grew less serious. They laughed and joked… Jones was actually quite funny. However, Sophie got the distinct feeling she wasn't the only one playing a game here. Jones was trying to wheedle information out of her even as she tried to do the same.
"You went to Cheltenham right? I've been meaning to ask, what did you say to Thwaites that got her to shut up before the hockey match?" Jones tilted her head and Sophie grinned, setting down her glass.
"Just a threat to beat the shit out of her, again." She chuckled quietly to herself as her reply only got Jones more interested.
"Again?" She arched a brow, setting her own glass down beside the bottle. Sophie shrugged.
"I was tossed out of Cheltenham for it. Could say it was the start of a great tradition." She grinned and let herself flop back on the Head Girl's bed. Damn, this thing was comfy. She tucked her hands behind her head, glancing over to the other girl, who was propping herself up on one hand to look down at her.
"Why'd you do it?" She arched a brow and Sophie grinned.
"A girl's got to have her secrets." She laughed as Jones failed in an attempt at a pout, however, as she stuck her bottom lip out, Sophie's eyes were dragged down to it and couldn't quite be persuaded to leave.

Well… That was distracting.

She gave herself a mental slap and yanked her eyes back up to Jones', only to find a knowing smirk on her face.

Shit.

"You sure there's no way to persuade you?" Jones' teasing tone was a deadly weapon in itself and Sophie suddenly felt oddly exposed. She sat up, but forced her shoulders to remain relaxed as she chuckled. Jones was joking, right?

She hadn't exactly rejected her when she'd kissed her at the party, but then she'd had no real positive response either…

He brain was way too fuzzy for this train of thought, and apparently it was taking too long to formulate a response, as her mouth went ahead and made words happen without her.
"Well I don't know, they may be some way to get it out of me." She grinned back and Jones seemed amused as she tilted her head, leaning forward ever so slightly, her lips barely parting to allow an almost silent chuckle to pass through.
"And what might that be?" Sophie was glad she was sat down because the change in Jones' tone made her forget the existence of her legs; it had dropped to a dark, quiet, seductive note that sent a shiver down her spine.

She opened her mouth to speak, but apparently she was all out of words as none emerged. Her blush was real this time as she snapped it shut again and took a moment to reboot her brain, pointedly ignoring the amusement dancing in the other girl's eyes and clearing her throat before trying again.
"Miss Jones, you are not fighting fair." She feigned an indignant expression but couldn't help but flick her tongue out the wet her lips as she watched Jones' smirk grow.
"Oh am I not, Miss Daniels? What're you going to do about it?" She leaned forward a little more and Sophie resisted the urge to back up, holding herself in place and ignoring the warning siren blaring in the back of her mind.

Carefully, she leaned around, inebriation egging her on to move so close that her lips brushed the shell of Jones ear as she spoke.
"I'm going to have to fight back." She grinned to herself, determinedly ignoring the way her heart jumped at the feel of impossibly soft skin under her lips and forcing herself to linger in the intoxicating scent of the other girl's perfume to take another moment to let her breath ghost over the back of the other girl's neck before retreating to a safe distance.

Retreating was a mistake.

As she met Jones' eyes she found them impossibly darker, a blood red lip trapped between her teeth. She couldn't look away.

"You're so weird." It was barely a whisper, and it took her a moment for her sluggish mind to figure out it was Jones who had said it. Her gaze darted up to the other woman's eyes and found her watching her with uncertainty. Sophie paused then, seeing the mistrust in the other woman's face.
"I know." She couldn't have told anyone why she said it, or what it really meant, but Jones exhaled a not-quite-a-laugh, leaning back and running her hand over her hair.

After a moment of internal thought, by the look of it, Jones sighed and shook her head, as though trying to shake off the previous moment.
"So, you were going to tell me why you beat the hell out of Thwaites." She grinned and Sophie chuckled.
"Nah, I was thinking of just having another drink." She reached for the bottle but Jones caught her hand. A moment passed then, Sophie's mind on the strong grip around her wrist, and how it probably shouldn't feel so warm.

She wasn't sure if either of them could remember how it started, but soon there was a… for lack of a better word, wrestling match going on. Pillows were thrown across the room, one of which took out the bottle they were fighting over and sending it shattering on the floor. The small table was kicked over at some point too, adding two shot glasses to the growing pile of smashed glass littering the hardwood flooring of the head girl's bedroom.

This was also about the time Sophie discovered that Jones was a lot stronger than she looked and subsequently was now sat on top of her, pinning both of her hands to the headboard with only one of her own and smirking triumphantly.

Sophie swallowed hard, repressing a shiver that was a bizarre combination of pleasant, and very unpleasant.
"Think I can get you to talk now?" Kelly sat up, her grip on Sophie's wrists tightening slightly.

She could feel her heart beginning to race. Still, she repressed the surge of panic creeping up her spine and forced her muscles to remain relaxed. It was okay, Jones wasn't… It was okay. Still, the skin of her palms began to prickle and a wash of cold flooded her veins.
"Hmm, I suppose I might… If you let me up?" She tilted her head, internally proud of how steady her voice was keeping, she'd fought hard to keep from rushing. She flashed a grin, hoping it might hide the tremor of fear.

Jones seemed to be buying it, she chuckled and leaned down, but for once, Sophie was far from okay with her being so close. The warm breath across her face was suffocating, her chest was tightening, her vision narrowing on the other girl's face above her own. She flexed her hands, trying to encourage the blood flow, to push away the numb feeling that was building there.
"That's not how this works, Daniels. Talk and maybe I'll let you go." She grinned and Sophie closed her eyes for half a second, trying to repress the thunder of her heartbeat in her ears, but it was long enough for an image to flash through her mind like a bolt of lightning, searing everything in its path.

When she opened them again her vision had narrowed to a single point, the edges blurred.
"Jones, let me up." She ground it out between clenched teeth and watched an expression of 'nice-try' pass over the other girl's face. She wasn't moving fast enough, Sophie could feel herself trembling.
"Let me up." She strained against the grip on her wrists and Kelly's eyes filled with confusion. She needed to get free, now.
"Please!" She heard her own voice quake out in a yelp. Jones leapt off of her as though burned, rolling to one side. Like a dog out of a trap, Sophie was on her feet, but her legs couldn't hold her, she hit the floor knees first, landing in broken glass that cut her palms and stained her hands with blood.
"Daniels?" Jones voice behind her could have been a million miles away, Sophie's eyes were on the blood on her hands. She blinked and her wrists appeared red raw, burned by rope. She blinked again and it was gone. She curled inwards on herself, her knees coming to her chest and her hands gripping her hair. She barely felt the sting.

It was already over. It was done. It wasn't coming back. It wasn't real, not anymore.

She repeated it like a prayer in her head, squeezing her eyes tight shut and burying her face in her knees. It wasn't real, wasn't real.

"Sophie!" A sharp voice broke through the noise in her mind. Her head snapped up, blurry eyes finding a familiar outline before her.
"Soph, look at me, yeah?" Kelly reached forward and Sophie flinched back from her hand. She got the message and held both up.
"Okay, just keep your eyes on me, and breathe." She was kneeling in front of her, brows drawn in worry and dark eyes full of concern. Sophie fixed her mind onto them. Kelly's eyes, dark and watchful, hard and analysing, cold and calculating… But not now. Now they were calm, and just a little softer. Sophie mirrored the other woman's breaths without really thinking about it. Deep in. Hold it. Let it out slowly. Deep in. Hold it. Let it out slowly.

They sat like this for a while, how long? Sophie didn't know. But at some point, she let Kelly move a bit closer, and managed not to flinch as she placed an arm around her shoulders, not hugging her, just… there. Slowly, she uncoiled from around herself, her shoulders slumping and her forehead resting on her arms.

"You okay?" Kelly had been mute since Sophie had calmed, but now she broke the weighted silence, the genuine concern in her voice twisting Sophie's stomach.

She was fucking doomed now.

Bloody idiot.

"I'm fine." She shrugged off the arm around her shoulders and stood on unsteady legs but didn't fall, forcing her knees to lock and hold her upright. She was such a fool; Jones would walk all over her now. For fucks sake. Four years she'd managed to avoid anyone even knowing about that little inconvenience, and here she was, bawling on the bloody woman's bed less than half a day after decreeing she would end her.
"Soph?" Jones had stood behind her. She steeled her expression and turned to face her.
"Thanks for the drink, Jones. But I think I'll go to bed." She folded her arms, ignoring the bite as her bleeding palms reminded her of their existence. Jones made no move to stop her. Only nodded.

She didn't go straight to bed.

First she headed down to the gym and beat the crap out of some bags until she was almost too tired to stand. Pain radiating from her hand and warning her of heavily abused knuckles. Then she hit the showers, and only then, when she was practically dead on her feet, her hands cleaned and the bleeding stopped, did she let herself fall into bed. She was out before her head hit the pillow.


So, yes, Sophie is losing her mind, and no that train of thought is not something anyone should aspire to. She is heading to a very dark place, and no, even she doesn't notice it's happening. I hope this is a passable rendition of how quickly a person's mind can spiral out of control, and how they may be completely unaware of how bad they have gotten, when it should be obvious. As always, I hope you've enjoyed reading. Next chapter is a strong turning point, and I am incredibly happy with it's re-write, so I hope to see you again next week. Thanks - J