Jeri Katou was lying in a hospital bed, the side of her face beaten purple. She sat up and stared coldly at the wall in front of her. This had all become far too familiar to her. The suffering had become repetitive and eventually habitual. Her right hand moved instinctively and she had to squeeze it to stop. It was the old reflexes of her hand puppet wanting to speak in her behalf, but she had given that up years ago. It was nothing but an old broken memory, a shard of her past childhood, a thing to be boxed up and forgotten. God how she missed it. Missed it like a drug. Horrible words washed into her head in the absence of the dog-puppet speaking for her. They were darker and more judgmental.
"Worthless women. You are the root of all suffering. All who cared about you are dead. All who you loved are gone. Whore. You would sell your soul for scraps. Why do you hold on to childish memories? Feelings of hope? Nobody will save you. Not anymore. Takato? No, not even he will wait forever. Not that he should. Not after what you have done to him. You don't deserve him."
Jeri shouted mentally and she put her hands to her head, "shut up!" Then there was a hand on her shoulder and she woke from her trance. The lights had been turned on and a smile dared to grace her features for just a second. Takato! It was him. He had come for her! Come to save her! She stopped and remembered the way things were. No, this wasn't him saving her. This was his job now. She was just another case. Another domestic assault. His eyes looked so kind, yet he couldn't save her. His partner was there too, but that wasn't unusual. This was routine for them too. Then they heard shouting down the hall and Takato got up, concerned. Jeri's heart sank as she recognized the voice. No! Why would he come here? To the hospital? Her only sanctuary in between the abuse. Takato went out and didn't return. She hoped Takato didn't get hurt. He couldn't get hurt. Not because of her. There was shouting and sounds of a fight, but Takato had reentered the room. What was happening? The fighting outside stopped, and a few seconds later a man in black walked into the room. He seemed so familiar, but her memory was cloudy these days. The man took a towel from near the bed and wiped blood from his gloved hands. Takato seemed so calm at all of this. He exchanged words with the man, but Jeri didn't quite hear them. She was in shock from the whole event. Somehow the man who had tormented her never entered the room. What had happened? Had the man in black killed him? No. Takato would never let that happen. And so long as her tormentor's life continued the suffering would as well. Then Takato put a hand on her cheek ever so gently. She seemed to be pushed back to reality. He was so kind, even though they hadn't talked in so long. His voice cut through the haze, "Jeri, you're safe now. We got it." She began to say, "but…?" The man in black cut her off, "trust me. I handled it. You're in my debt now."