Bone-jarring agony dissolved into waves of pleasure. It was her second trip to the red room. The second man in an overly expensive suit to use her body to his liking. At first, she fought, but the pain that came with music returned. They still forced her to perform. She cried as they dressed her in revealing clothing, this time pure white. As if she was pure anymore. She hadn't been pure since the day Jim Barringer took her to the cave.
Then, halfway through the act, she gave up. She could have kept fighting, but she simply didn't have the strength. The pain was too great and the fallout too severe. There were things they wanted her to do the next day, and she needed her wits about her to accomplish those tasks. Fighting the lingering effects of this new torture method would only slow her down. So, she surrendered to the act, to the façade they painted on her. And the pleasure came. More than merely the physical pleasure of a woman with a man, this was deeper. It went into her mind, and she was immediately addicted.
Anna woke without the usual start. The memory wasn't agonizing in its emotional torture, but it highlighted one moment of her greatest shame: the day she surrendered. She had gone to work the next day, acted as normal as possible, and done what was required of her.
Restlessly, she pushed back the covers and stared at the clock. She would be meeting Lorne in an hour. The sleeping pills Beckett had given her worked to some extent. Waking from the dream had been difficult, but not impossible. With a sigh, she rose and took a long shower. She normally waited until after the run to shower, but she felt dirty. Cheapened. She wished the memories washed away as easily as dirt.
Lorne waited in their normal meeting place. This morning, he stared out over the horizon, thoughtfully watching the sun come up. Last night, as he'd left, she'd wondered just what the future had in store for the two of them. Now, his face was closed to her. He could have been meeting Sheppard, based on his expression.
Anna stood next to him. "Good morning."
"Doc." Lorne's tone made her glance at him. When she did, he straightened and pinned her in place with a look. "We need to talk."
"We do?" She hated how simple that sounded, but they had not left anything unsaid the night before.
"Yeah." He looked away, his eyes going back to the sunrise. "Years ago, when I first got into the military, I had a friend shot down behind enemy lines. The Air Force searched for him, but he was MIA. That's what they told us. Anyway, two years after he went missing, he was released from a POW camp somewhere in Asia. He returned to his wife and family, got to know the child he never knew he had. But things changed. He didn't sleep. He always worked until he dropped from sheer exhaustion. His wife never left him, but she said it was like he wasn't even at home. About a year after his return, he was committed to a psychiatric hospital for trying to commit suicide. He had PTSD, and he refused to allow anyone to help him. Said it was for their good, that they didn't know what he went through and didn't want to know."
Anna stared, amazed at the way Lorne's gaze jumped from the horizon to her face and back. He really was trying to be sympathetic. Finally, he faced her again. "What I'm saying is that I know, on a very basic level, what you're going through. I lost one friend already. I don't want you wandering through your time on Atlantis thinking you have no one to talk to. No matter what time it is, call me. I don't care what you want to talk about."
She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She wanted to refuse him, wanted to spare herself his reaction when she told him the truth. Instead, she nodded. "Thank you, Major. I'll keep that in mind."
"Evan."
"Sorry?"
He grinned and returned to the running partner she'd known. "My name is Evan."
"And mine is Anna."
"Nice to meet you, Anna." He pushed away from the railing. "Shall we?"
Anna slipped past him and set the pace for the morning. As she ran, she thought about his words. He'd watched a friend slip away by refusing to get help. She needed help, and she knew it. But she couldn't tell Evan. Not now. Not after last night and the stirring she felt toward him. She couldn't sabotage that before she found out if it was worth letting the relationship-whatever it might be-bloom into a flower.
SGA SGA SGA SGA
That evening, before she went home for the day, Anna tracked down Ronon. He wasn't Lorne, but he understood what it was like to have dreams plague him day and night. She finally found him in his quarters and hesitated before requesting entry.
Ronon answered a moment later. "Hey."
Anna stared up at him, unsure if she should even be here. "I, um, needed to talk. Actually, ask you a question."
"Okay." His abrupt manner wasn't encouraging.
She glanced around and made sure no one was in earshot. "How do you deal with the nightmares? And the flashbacks?"
"I don't have flashbacks." Ronon left his room and started walking with her along the corridor. "As far as the dreams, I just fight. It seems to solve all problems."
Anna wanted to tell him that his answer didn't really help her. Instead, she thanked him for his time and left him to his evening. Somehow, she'd thought she could talk to Ronon, but he seemed to be a man of action rather than words. Not always a bad thing, but she needed more. Still, she was willing to give his suggestions a try. So, she began searching Atlantis yet again.
She found Teyla in a small room, finishing her lesson with a young Athosian woman learning to use a knife. Anna waited until she said her goodbyes and then stepped into the room.
"Anna." Teyla seemed genuinely pleased to see her. "What brings you here?"
"A favor, actually." Anna twisted her fingers together. "I was kind of hoping you could teach me to fight with those rods."
"Bantos fighting?" Teyla smiled at her. "I can teach you if you so wish."
"Great." Anna tried to put some enthusiasm into her tone but failed miserably. Teyla gave her instructions for the evening and told her to be back in this room in an hour. Anna went her way and returned, ready for whatever punishment she'd receive.
Teyla showed her the very basics of bantos fighting, but it still exhausted Anna. The physical workout, combined with the sleeping pill, put her out for the entirety of the night. She was so tired that the nightmares didn't think about returning. The next morning, she ran with Lorne in spite of her stiff muscles. If he noticed her slower pace, he didn't comment. Instead, they chatted like friends rather than running in silence. She knew he wondered about her happy mood.
Three days later, Anna had fallen into a routine. She ran with Lorne in the morning, worked through the day, and trained with Teyla in the evenings. New bruises appeared on her skin, but she didn't care. If this was what it took to escape the nightmares, she'd willingly endure.
On the third evening, Teyla finished the lesson early and put the rods away. Then, she whirled and stared at Anna. "What are you doing to yourself?"
"Sorry?" Anna wiped her face with a towel, already looking forward to the shower waiting for her.
"You come here to learn, but you push yourself past what you should be doing." Teyla stood in front of her, holding out one hand as if in supplication. "It is as if you are trying to fight something that neither of us can confront."
"That pretty much sums it up," Anna said wryly.
"Why not share what it is?" Teyla asked. "Then we can confront it as friends."
"You wouldn't understand." Anna hated how angry that sounded, but she couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. "And, from what I've seen, there's not really anyone on Atlantis that would understand. Or care." She added that last bit under her breath, but Teyla heard her.
"I care." The Athosian woman scowled, a compassionate look creeping onto her face. "And I know Ronon cares."
Anna frowned. "Why do you say it that way?"
"Have you not seen the glances he gives you? The way he is always very awkward when you are present?"
Anna stared, suddenly understanding what Teyla was saying. She'd felt that way around Lorne a few days ago. The words that she wanted to say were simply not available, and so she resorted to monosyllabic answers and awkward statements. For that matter, Lorne had shown the same signs when he'd stopped by her room that night.
Anna moved to the bench in the room and sat down. How could she have missed something so obvious? No wonder the rumor mill was so active. She'd heard more about Ronon and Lorne in the last few days than she'd heard since she came to Atlantis. The women, in particular, speculated her relationship with both men.
Another thought crossed her mind. She had never felt the stirring toward Ronon that she felt toward Lorne. The big Satedan didn't strike her as anything more than a good friend. And he'd been thinking of her in a romantic sense. She looked at Teyla. "What have I done?"
Teyla settled next to her. "Why do you ask?"
"There's just. . .someone else that I'm sort of. . .interested in." Anna twisted her fingers together. "Well, not interested in, exactly, but, well, he's a friend, and I like him, and. . . ."
"Say no more." Teyla smiled. "I understand."
"That's not what you were talking about earlier, though. It's not about. . .this guy or anything." Anna had almost said Lorne's name and thought better of it. "I just don't really have anyone here on Atlantis who can truly understand what I went through. Dr. Heightmeyer would try to psychoanalyze me and treat me, but I don't need that. I went through that back on Earth. I need someone who truly understands what I feel and think."
Teyla didn't comment but touched her shoulder. After a moment, she stirred. "Shall we go get something to eat?"
"Like this?" Anna stared at her sweat-soaked attire. "Give me thirty minutes to clean up first."
"Very well." Teyla rose, and the women walked from the room together. Anna rushed through a shower, thankful that she'd worn her hair up that day. Then, she slipped on the turquoise dress and met Teyla just outside the mess hall door. To her great relief, Ronon was nowhere to be seen, and she enjoyed the evening meal without the need for constant embarrassment. She just hoped that she'd be able to face him when she saw him again.
~TBC~
