Disclaimer: None of the Benedicts/the Savant World belong to me – all rights to Joss Stirling :)
Thanks to guest (Nitte), Pirate Kazumi, LittleLily99 and xxx-benedictbrothersfan-xxx for reviewing on the latest chapter, it means so much to me :)
WARNING: Descriptions of consequences of violence and vague ones about acts of violence – nothing explicit or graphic though, so you're pretty much safe the whole way through.
Chapter Seven – Leah POV
On the eve of my first bad night, I thought about death. How old I would be, what it would feel like. I was five and it felt so far away. I am twenty-six and I've already got a foot over the threshold. There is an insistent throbbing throughout the whole of my body, reminding with every breath and movement that I am literally at death's door. I thought I would be in the hospital wing. Why are there these odd flowers around my feet? How funny. A small chuckle escapes my mouth and I erupt in laughter. Everything here looks so much greener here… Ooh and look at those mountains. So big and majestic. I bet one could have a good time skiing there. And who's that? I squint slightly to bring him into focus but that just makes the daisies move all funny and I giggle. I didn't know daisies could belly-dance. The figure approaches me and smiles at me, like I'm Christmas and birthdays wrapped in one. All I can make out from his clothes is his jacket, navy blue with an odd combination of letters stitched on. Wait… is that … that's an F there and next to it… an I? How odd… Such a handsome face.
"Andersson?"
Slowly, the man turns his back and retreats to a motorbike standing at the side of a forest track. Don't go!
"Andersson?"
"Don't go" I hear myself mumble and blink a few times before my eyes are willing to open completely.
"Andersson, can you hear us?"
"Shut up. I'm dreaming such nice things at the moment." I can hear a small intake of breath and grin.
"It's the morphine speaking, Captain-"
"I am aware of that, Lieutenant, thank you for your words of wisdom." The sarcastic, demanding tone jolts me awake at once.
My arm however doesn't quite reach my forehead and I wince before letting it fall limp on the mattress.
"Good to see you haven't lost your discipline, Sergeant."
"Why would I have, Captain?" I ask and blindly reach for a glass of water.
"Do you remember what happened, Sergeant?" Belgrave asks and for the first time in my eight years of service looks at me with something like affection.
"I … I was taken away."
"Correct. What were you doing outside the premises?"
"Captain." Russell's quiet voice gently cuts into the conversation. "This is not a police interrogation. We have someone else here to do that."
"Fine. What did they do to you?"
"Captain, really, is this the time?"
"Honestly, Lieutenant. She is not twelve and I will not treat her like she's wrapped in cotton wool. We need to know. She's the only one who can tell us. There you have your answer."
"Lieutenant, it's fine." I try to reassure him and he gives me a half-smile.
"Do you want a detailed description because they keep files back at the house?"
"Er… no, thank you. Just roughly recount the events of the last couple of days."
"I was taken. First day, two sessions, punching and hitting, nothing more. Second day, four sessions, pulling, poking and carving. Third day, six sessions, punching, throwing, carving, electrocution and drawing. Anything else?"
I can see by the way their faces lock in this seemingly stony expression of disbelief and disgust that they don't know how to deal with my bluntness but I'm past caring.
"Did they… you know…" Russell fumbles the words and has to gesture to certain body parts for me to understand.
"No, they didn't rape me." He lets out an audible sigh of relief and I grin at him.
"What did they want from you?" Belgrave asks and pulls out a tattered notepad.
"Wait a minute. I'm sure the agent will be interested in hearing this. Listen, I'm gonna bring in an FBI agent, he's been sitting by your bed for days now, he seems quite eager to meet you."
I shrug and take another sip of water. The door opens and oh my god, kill me now. Such a handsome face… I don't even twitch as the lamp bulb from the bedside table bursts, tiny pieces of glass scattering around the various pill boxes.
"Oh, crap. I'll better go change that. Captain, where do we keep the spare ones?"
"Before you go around getting yourself kidnapped, I might as well come with you."
He gives the handsome face a stern glance and curt nod before shutting the door behind him with a bang.
"Hi" He says nervously and holds out his hand formally though when I nod towards my arm in a cast, he pulls his back with a small smile.
"I'm Victor. Victor Benedict."
The flashbacks take over my mind, and I can't stop myself from screaming.
Vic POV
The door bursts open and Captain Belgrave and Lieutenant Russell barge in, shoving me aside in their hurry to get to Leah, who's starting to writhe and shake all over the bed. Little beads of sweat are forming around her eyebrows and she squeezes her eyes tightly shut, as if she's trying to regain control over her body.
"What's happening? What's happening to her?" I ask but no one answers.
Her screams slowly ebb away and soon, all one can hear are small whimpers and sobs coming from the tangle of blankets and pillows around her head.
"What was that? Is she alright?" I don't care about etiquette and ignore Russell's tense posture as I grab him by the shoulder, forcing him to look at me.
"What is wrong with her?"
At that moment, she open her eyes and looks right into mine. Her mouth widens again and before I know it, I'm being dragged away to the door as the screaming starts up again.
"What the hell? She needs me!" Russell gives me a funny look before shoving me out onto the hallway.
"PTSD, Benedict. She needs rest and pain killers."
What? No! No! I give up banging on the door and slump down against the wall. Why me? Why would she scream at the sight of me? What happened with those men? I know a little from my research in the FBI but what do they know?
And as the shrieks die down, I can't stop my eyes from falling shut.
"Agent!" I jump at the sound of Belgrave's voice and instinctively pull a fist to punch Xav who would at this moment start laughing his ass off.
"Yes, sir?"
"Stop hovering around the door and follow me."
"Is that such a good idea? I mean, the last time she saw me, she had a breakdown." Not that I'm desperate to see her, I just think it would create an odd image that was hard to explain.
"I don't care. She's going back the US."
"On leave?" I ask and struggle to hide the dreading tone.
"She's being discharged. Honourably, of course." His gruff tone doesn't even hint at affection but I can see it in his face. It's quite a load off his mind to know that she'll be safe.
"You'll be taking the same plane to Denver, where you will part ways. Any evidence and interviews you need, you'll better get on the plane."
"Where will she be going?" I ask and push down the hope of her staying with me. I've just found my soulfinder and she's mentally completely instable.
"Her folks live in Colorado Springs. About an hour's drive –"
"Yeah, I know" I say. "Sir." I add after the withering look he gives me.
"But, Captain. I could go on leave. I'll be as good as new in a couple of weeks." I can hear Leah's voice from the other end of the corridor and slow down, not wanting to startle her.
"No, Sergeant. Your injuries are too severe, some will take years to heal. You've been through a lot and I'm sorry to say, you're not completely stable to go out again."
"What's that-?"
"Benedict."
I see Leah flinch at my name but she takes a deep breath and turns around to face me. With her face wiped free of all the grime and blood, she looks absolutely beautiful. Her shoulder-length, curly blonde hair is freshly washed and tied back in a tight ponytail, giving me perfect view of her heart-shaped face and startling blue eyes.
"Miss Andersson…" Hesitating slightly, I hold out my hand but she just stares at it.
"You're supposed to say your name, I already know mine."
Wow. Was not expecting that.
"You already know my name."
"No. Say it again."
Bossy much?
"Victor Benedict." Her sharp intake of breath shows that my name still has an odd effect on her but otherwise, her face shows no reaction.
"Who's that?" She nods at someone over my shoulder and I roll my eyes as I notice Greenberg hovering against the door.
"That's my assistant, Jared Greenberg. He's –"
"I'm going with him." Just like that, she limps past me and at once, engages in conversation with the dim twit.
I try to ignore that feeling of jealousy piercing its way through my soul.
"Which direction are you going?" I ask and check her face as she scans the arrivals area for a familiar face.
"I… I'm gonna wait here for a little bit." She replies, barely looking at me.
"Is someone picking you up?"
"… Yeah… someone."
"Your parents?"
"Quit interrogating. We're not in an FBI office."
"Listen, I don't know what you've been told about me but I can assure you, I'm on your side. I always will be." That's about as close as it gets to a declaration of love. "I just wanted to say, if you don't have anywhere to stay tonight, you can stay at my apartment. I'll take the living room, you the bed, and we'll get you home in the morning."
I can tell she's struggling to even consider my offer but am positively surprised when she nods.
"Greenberg smells of onions and you don't, so …"
It's a start.
So, I actually had no idea what a person who's high on morphine actually sees so I just mixed some film experience together.
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