And we're back with the conclusion of last week's misery. We're getting there guys, nearly done, hope you're all sticking with me and have been enjoying the journey. As always, I will catch you at the end. -J
Chapter 29: Time
It was hard to keep track of the days, or maybe she just didn't want to. The only real gauge she has was how long her hair was getting, but with the malnutrition that came with her new diet, it was probably growing a lot slower than usual, so it was a bad gauge at best. Of course, she lost that completely when they decided to shave her head a few days ago, so she was kind of lost. Still, she was pretty sure her birthday had run past, so that was kind of miserable. Though, granted, it was not the most miserable part of her life at the minute, so she didn't really care. Being nineteen and in a hole in the ground was no different to being twenty and in a hole in the ground.
Frankly, she didn't even particularly care about betraying her country anymore, they'd left her here for this damn long they deserved to have some official secrets spilled. However, if she did tell them something before Kelly came for her, there was a good to fair chance she'd be imprisoned or executed before she got a chance to go home, and that was just not ideal. So, she was still keeping quiet, idly, she wondered if she'd still remember how to talk, if she ever did again.
Beardy-mcbeardface (she did know his name, it was Nial, but she liked her version better) now took an active part of her daily misery and that had meant a few more creative torments being thrown her way every now and then, so that was fun. Frankly though, lying in her cell was starting to become a torture of its own, she really, really, needed a shower. She was still in the tattered shirt and trousers she'd been wearing when she was caught and they were now caked in so much blood and grime that she was almost ready to consider stripping off just so she wouldn't have to wear it. In all honesty, she'd be impressed if some of her injuries weren't infected, though Victor did like to pour some very painful substances over them whenever he was bored, so maybe that was helping, who could say?
She was dragged out with the usual care and delicacy, and strung up to the ceiling. Rope burns really were a bitch, but they beat the hell out of handcuff chafing. It was truly depressing that she now had a preferred method of restraint; the very thing that haunted her nightmares for half a decade. That said, she didn't so much sleep and randomly fall unconscious these days, so nightmares weren't entirely relevant anymore.
"Good morning. Feel like talking today?" Victor smiled cheerfully and Soph deadpanned back at him. He really should know the answer to that by now. His smile didn't waver as he shrugged.
"Ah well, gave you the chance." He began whistling again as he moved about the room, preparing whatever he'd be using today, but at that moment, the door slammed open.
"Victor!" Some young recruit she didn't know dashed into the room looking like he'd been running for some time. The interrogator moved forward.
"What?" He stood with his back to her, the young man was doubled over, heaving for breath.
"Attack on the surface, Mr. Nial needs you!" He panted and Victor glanced over his shoulder toward her.
"Wait here." He grinned, and the pair took off running.
Yeah, like she was actually going to do that.
Whether the people attacking were MI7 or not, she was getting the fuck out of here.
Carefully, she rotated herself around, investigating what was nearby. A collection of knives and blades on a small cart beside her spoke volumes as to what her day was about to be like, but for her purposes now, she was almost glad, as a good few of them looked sharp enough to work with.
It took a lot longer than she'd have liked to get her leg high enough to catch a knife with her foot, strength was not currently her strong suit and everything hurt. She dropped the first three before she even got them anywhere above her waist, tried to throw one up to her hand and cut her own face. She was so tired, she could just stay hanging here, surely? And they'd get to her? Her eyes burned in shame and frustration at how weak she was. Ugh, fuck this. She'd been dangling here for god knew how long, she may as well make a goddamn effort.
Gritting her teeth, she tried again. There were only two knives left, she might as well drop them all before giving up completely. She manged to get hold of a scalpel, then took a moment, pausing to breathe before the next bit. It would involve putting all her weight on her shoulders, and one of them still had a bullet hole in it. Still, after everything she'd been through lately, what was high tension being put on a thousand different injuries in various stages of healing? Probably horrifying, but such was life.
It was that, and more, but after the fifth attempt, she actually managed to get her legs up high enough to grab the scalpel. Too triumphant to even care that she'd grabbed it by the blade and sliced her hand open. What was one more injury?
Still, with the blade in hand, she let her legs drop back to the floor, cold sweat trailing down her neck as she gasped for breath. Honestly, it was tempting to just hang there for a minute, but she'd wasted enough time already. Carefully, as her hands weren't nearly as dextrous as they used to be, she cut away at the rope attaching her to the ceiling. It was heavy duty stuff, so it kept her up until the last thread was cut, but when it finally gave, she flopped to the floor like a dead fish, gasping in pain as she landed with a heavy thud.
Fuckin' ow.
Buoyed by her startling success so far, she cut herself free of the remaining rope and dragged herself to her feet. Adrenaline and sheer hope was probably the only thing keeping her moving, but if it was working, she wasn't about to complain.
Collecting one of the larger knives from the floor seemed wise, and tucking it into her belt, she staggered to the door. There was no sound of movement outside, no sound at all, so she cracked it open, peering out. Oh, exciting, an empty corridor. It was a tough call to make, she could go staggering through the corridors armed with nothing but a large knife, or she could stay here, in the area she knew, and set a trap… Okay, not such a tough call.
Her trap was a pretty basic tripwire, but as she slumped, exhausted, against the wall behind the door, she knew it was the best she could do at this point. As long as he staggered a little when he came in, she could get a decent jump on him and that would be all she'd need. Though jump would probably be the wrong word.
She was waiting for so long that she started to doubt her plan, but eventually, a door further down the corridor was kicked open.
"Hold them off! Victor, get the girl!" Nial's voice boomed to her ears and she flinched, taking a deep breath to prepare herself as footsteps hurried toward her. The door slammed open and she froze, not even daring to breathe as the familiar shape of Victor ran into the room.
He tripped over, she resisted the urge to cheer and dove after him, falling heavily on his back and driving her knife into his kidney with a grunt of effort. He gasped in pain but she couldn't bring herself to enjoy it. Instead she pulled her knife free with a huff and sat up.
"Fuck you." She croaked, her voice rough and weak from disuse and general screaming.
Heart thundering in her ears, she dragged her knife across his throat, a shudder of revulsion rolling up her spine at the feel of it. She'd shot people before, but knives were so… personal. She could feel his blood on her hands as he twitched and shuddered, and she promptly rolled off of him to throw up. There wasn't much to come up, but she stayed on her hands and knees in the growing pool of blood for some moments, forcing back the burn in her eyes. She was pretty sure nothing about this little trip would leave her any time soon.
Forcing back the wretched hole in her gut, she pushed herself to her feet and bent over the body of the man who had tortured her for so long, stealing his gun and checking the mag before moving to the door. She had shit to do.
Following the sound of gunfire, she moved along the side of the corridors, keeping her new gun trained at her side, ready to defend. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be off fighting the intruders, so she encountered no-one as she moved as quickly as she could muster. The noise seemed to be coming from the room up ahead, so she ducked to one side and crouched low, listening carefully.
Mostly, it was gunfire, so listening wasn't particularly helpful, and if anything, it made it harder to focus. Letting out a long breath, she pushed the door open a crack. Five people she didn't know were shooting from behind crates, Beardy was with them, a semi-automatic in hand and a grim look of determination on his face. She couldn't see the other side of the room, but whoever it was, they were laying down heavy fire. Letting out a long breath, she took careful aim, waiting for the right moment. It took a few seconds to reload, and if she was lucky, more than one of them would need to at the same time, but she was waiting for Beardy. She didn't much care if she took out the rest of them, but he was the leader, she needed to injure him enough that he couldn't run. Two of the others stopped, and as they were fumbling, Beardy ran dry. Gritting her teeth, she fired, putting two through his leg before turning to the others. Distracted by their boss's shout, two went down to the attacking force, the other with ammo fell to her, closely followed by the other two before they could even raise their guns.
"Hold fire!" A voice across the room bellowed and she slipped out from the doorway, keeping herself low behind the boxes and her gun trained on Nial, who was eyeing her with loathing. She flashed a bitter grin.
"Identify yourself!" The dimly familiar voice across the room called out and she frowned.
"You first." She croaked back, hoping they could hear her. Sure enough, eventually someone called out.
"Agent Marcus Harrison, PPS division MI7, ID 37455." Harrison spoke sharply and Soph blinked in realisation. Of course it was him…
"Junior Agent Daniels. PPS division MI7, ID 52789." She called back, wincing at the roughness of her voice.
"Report status." His tone softened slightly and she resisted the urge to smile.
"Wounded, but not critical. All present hostiles down or subdued." She spoke concisely, slumping back against the box and resting the gun on her knee to keep it trained on her prisoner.
"Alpha team advancing, hold position." It was a note for both her and the team that would be crossing the room, telling them to move, and her not to shoot them. She let out a long breath, the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain and exhaustion that seemed etched into her very bones was setting in and draining any remaining energy from her. She had a couple of seconds before they'd make it to them, so she offered Beardy a smirk.
"See? All you had to do was ask nicely." She jerked her chin toward the other side of the room and the man simply glared. She stuck out her tongue, pulling it back just in time for the agents to reach them.
The first of them moved to cover Nial, allowing Soph to set her gun down, but the second…
Oh.
Kelly stared down at her in a mixture of relief and horror. She looked tired; pale and drawn, like she hadn't slept in a while. Her tactical gear was stained with blood and her face was smudged with dust and dirt; she'd been fighting hard to get here. Soph offered a weak half smile.
"Miss me?" She croaked and the woman's expression dissolved into an almost laugh before she dropped to her knees, pulling Soph forward and into her arms.
She passed out then, her mind and body too exhausted to keep her functional, but it was fine, she was safe now. Kelly would get her home.
When she woke, the first thing she knew was the quiet beep and whir of machines. Closely followed by the scent of antiseptic and plastic. Ugh, hospitals.
Her eyelids were heavy as she dragged them open, immediately regretting the decision as bright light assaulted her vision. She groaned at the pain and squeezed them shut, recoiling into the pillow beneath her head. The action jostled her, which made her very aware of the low level ache that filled her from head to toe. It wasn't as bad as the last time she was awake, and going on the familiar haze in her head and the foreign object in her arm, that could be easily explained by morphine.
"Figures the first thing you'd do is grumble." A familiar voice came from her right and she cracked open an eye, carefully turning her head away from the light and toward the sound.
"In my defence, I have a lot to complain about." She snarked back, her voice still weak and dry, but Kelly smiled, amusement clear despite the sadness dancing in her eyes.
"I suppose that's fair. How do you feel?" Concern overtook the humour and Soph hummed in thought, dragging open her other eye to look at the woman properly. She looked like hell, but god was she beautiful.
"I've been better. How long was I out?" She frowned slightly and Kelly sighed.
"About a week. You needed surgery when we got back, still had a bullet in your shoulder, and given how many injuries you had, the doctors felt it was better to keep you sedated for a while." She shifted closer and reached out, Soph took her hand with a crooked smile.
"When was the last time you slept?" She arched a brow; Kelly looked better than she did in her vague memories of the shootout, but still very tried. The woman hummed in false thought, not even having the decency to look remorseful.
"A while." She shrugged dismissively and Soph rolled her eyes, scooting over toward her IV to make space on the bed. This was definitely a MI7 controlled hospital, the beds were cushy, and surprisingly spacious. Part of her mind offered that she was probably being kept in a max security location in case she'd changed sides, or given something away, but she ignored that in lieu of tugging gently on Jones' hand.
"C'mon." She pulled insistently, despite knowing there wouldn't be much strength behind it, and after only a moment's hesitation, Kelly stood.
Soph let her have her hand back while she pulled off her shoes and shrugged out of her jacket, using the time to shift her blankets out of the way and trying not to wince at how painfully skinny her own body looked beneath them. She also found the light control beside her bed, and dimmed them down to their lowest level with a sigh of relief. Kelly chuckled as she gingerly climbed up to join her.
"Some things don't change." It sounded like a joke, it was phrased like a joke, but the edge of worry to her tone sat heavy in Soph's ears. She hummed her affirmative, waiting a moment while the woman got comfortable.
"Never." She couldn't quite bring her voice above a mutter as she settled down on her side, leaving a tiny space between them that felt wrong as hell. In the half light, Kelly's gaze found hers.
"You sure?" She whispered back, as though speaking too loudly would shatter everything. Sophie's eyes burned as she watched her. She was tired, both bodily and mentally, everything that had happened was waiting in the back of her mind to pull her back down into that basement. She probably had changed, it was inevitable, after all that…
Letting out a long breath, she reached forward hesitantly, brushing her fingers along the woman's cheek. One thing she was sure hadn't changed, just one thing that couldn't…
"I missed you." She spoke on a sigh, Kelly's hand came up to cover hers, turning her head to press a kiss to her palm. Bandages covered most of her wrists and hands, but she felt it, and a lump formed in her throat, her eyes burning.
"I missed you too." She murmured back, her voice cracking just a little. Soph bit her lip as she felt her own tears spill over. Oh, fuck it. She shifted closer and Kelly's arms wrapped tight around her. It probably hurt a little but who gave a fuck? She buried her face in the woman's neck and just gave up. She still didn't know how long she'd been in the goddamn hole but it was too fucking long and she was done with being any kind of strong. She was exhausted, and Kelly was here, a warm hard settling over the back of her neck and long fingers gently coaxing the tension from her as she curled up and just let it go. Let the tears fall, let the memory of it all wash past her.
It happened, she couldn't deny it had happened. She'd done that before, it didn't help. Accepting it was important…she just hoped it wouldn't change her into someone she didn't recognise…
"I knew, you know." After who knew how long, her tears subsided, and she sighed. Kelly gave a questioning hum.
"The whole time, I knew you'd come." She mumbled, her eyes heavy. Long fingers carded gently through her hair.
"Sorry it took me so long." The genuine remorse in her tone wrenched at Sophie's battered heart, she pulled back, meeting her gaze with as stern an expression as she could muster.
"You came, that's all that matters." She scowled until, slowly, Kelly nodded. Letting her frown drop, Soph leaned in, stopping short, almost unsure of herself. Fortunately, Jones still understood her, she closed the gap, bringing their lips together in a kiss so overdue it almost hurt.
Home.
She was home.
Hoo boy, I'm sure she'll be fine, it's not like trauma is bad for you or anything. She can walk it off.
I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter, we only have a couple left to go before this re-write is completely finished. I do have a few other pieces in the works, but you guys know by mow, my writing schedule is questionable at best, so I make no promises. I hope you all have a lovely week, and I hope to see you again next time. - J
