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CHAPTER 14

"Oh, fear not in a world like this, and thou shalt know erelong, know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

CATHERINE POV

"Stop," I choke out, seeing Sara's body shaking as she's forced to her knees, blood pouring from her mouth to the floor.

"She needs to experience hell to be able to consider doing the unthinkable to get out of it."

"Stop," I beg. "She was already hurt. You shot her already…now this…"

"Catherine," James states. "I don't want to play this card, but Sara is going to experience what we deem fit. You cannot interrupt this process."

He stares me down.

"The more you protest, the worse I will make it for her."

"Worse than this?!" I yell, gesturing to the mirror where I can now see Sara getting kicked in the side by his partner, her body doubled over in pain.

"Much worse."

I'm rendered silent, having seen enough of James Vaughn to know he's serious.

Fucking hell.

"Can I see her at least?" I whisper.

He hesitates.

"I won't say anything about your plan," I promise him. "You can watch us the whole time. I just…she…"

He searches my expression, seeming to be trying to discern something from my gaze.

"Maybe," he states slowly.

Hearing Sara scream out as the partner wrenches her injured shoulder behind her, I place my hand against the cold glass.

I'm here, Sara. Hold on for me. Please, God, hold on.

"Catherine!"

Sara struggles to her feet, nearly falling over as she does so.

"Shh, relax," I reach out, quickly crossing the room and taking gentle hold of her. "I'm fine…"

"What did they do to you?" Sara growls out, not trusting me.

"Nothing," I tell her. "They just keep taking me to this separate room, leaving me there and then bringing me back."

It's not far from the truth, really.

"Sara, come on," I call softly. "Let's get you sitting down."

Sara's shaking badly, her body trembling in my grip.

"I'm okay," she breathes out.

I send her a sorrowful look.

"Please don't, Sara," I beg in a whisper. "I can see you're not okay and I don't want to waste whatever time we have together arguing that point. Please…just let me…"

Sara searches my expression, gaze finally leaving mine as she coughs.

Her action, to both of our dismay, causes a new trickle of crimson to appear along her mouth.

Coughing again, her hand is nearly completely red this time when she pulls it back.

Feeling her weight shifting in my hands, I carefully move my grip around her waist.

"I got you," I whisper.

Feeling her shaking legs give out, I lower us both carefully to the ground.

"I got you, honey," I repeat.

Arranging us against a wall, I encircle my arms around her, holding her close.

Sara's quiet, her shallow breathing the only sounds she makes.

But, eventually, I feel some of the tension working its way from her body, her guard lowering enough to let me hold her.

Resting my head against hers, we stay like that, sitting with one another in silence, seeking comfort in the other's presence, knowing the moment will be taken from us at any minute.

But, for right now, we have each other.

The next time they let me in to see Sara, the situation is different.

Much different.

They didn't let me witness any of what they'd done to her prior to this, and the moment I see her, I'm glad they didn't.

Laying alone in the center of the room is Sara, her body splayed out awkwardly.

Her shirt has ridden up slightly, revealing the deep bruising along her skin, streaks of blood crossing through it.

She's on her back, her eyes half open as she stares at the ceiling, gaze unfocused.

"Sar…"

Nothing.

Hesitantly moving closer to her, I kneel at her side.

Reaching down, I gently stroke the side of her face.

Flinching away, Sara's breath catches at the pain of her movements, her body struggling to get away from me.

"Sara!" I call. "Stop! Sweetheart, it's me…"

Sara coughs violently, blood making its way from her nose and mouth, the thick crimson getting caught in her airway as she struggles to breathe.

"Shit," I curse, throwing all caution to the wind as I grab her firmly, lifting her torso up and leaning her forward so she is no longer choking on her own blood.

"Breathe slow," I coach her between coughs. "Deep breaths, honey…"

Sara struggles, but eventually slows her breathing enough to stop coughing.

"That's it, Sara," I rub her back gently, keeping my grip on her firm. "Relax, sweetheart."

"What did they do to you?" I whisper into the silence after a couple minutes.

She doesn't answer, and I'm not sure she can.

To be honest, looking over her shoulder to see her hazy gaze, I'm not sure she's even fully conscious right now.

Rearranging us, I repeat my prior actions of holding her carefully, arms encircling her in a futile attempt to comfort her. This time, however, I keep my hold lower, along her hips. The bruising along her sides, the way she's coughing up blood, I highly suspect she has broken ribs, amongst other things.

"I'm here," I whisper into her hair, tears falling from my eyes into the soft locks. "I'm here, Sara."

Feeling Sara move, her head comes back to lay back lightly on my shoulder, her eyes now clenching tightly shut.

"I'm…I'm sorry…"

Her choked, hoarse words are barely able to be heard.

"Shh," I whisper. "Stop. I'm fine, Sara," I tell her. "Just relax, honey."

She struggles to speak, but only more blood makes its way from her lips.

"Stop, Sara," I beg desperately. "It's alright, honey. Please, just let me hold you right now. You can tell me anything you want later, I promise. But right now you can't talk, okay? Please."

Sara swallows tightly, continuing to try to breathe through the thick blood in her airways.

Eventually, she reaches out, her cold and bloody hand taking my good one.

Squeezing it, she holds it tightly in her own.

"It's almost time," James informs me, both of us silent as we watch Sara being all but dragged back into the room.

I haven't been permitted to see her for the last two days, likely to give her the time to 'bond' with Olivia, who herself is also not looking too good.

"It better be," I mutter. "Otherwise Sara isn't going to have a chance to decide about her life."

James catches my meaning, watching Sara's labored breaths for himself, the room looking like a butcher shop between her blood and Olivia's.

"Why did you fake your death?"

I ask the question he never completely answered before.

James looks over at me.

"To complete my plans."

"Which were?"

"To kill my wife."

I raise my brows, rendered silent.

"It was amazing how apologetic she was when her deceased husband came back from the grave to confront her about their son." He turns back to watch Sara. "I knew if I was still 'alive' when she died it would be pretty obvious who killed her."

We watch in silence for a while, my heart breaking a little more each time I see Sara grimace in pain.

"You killed her because she chose her life over her son's. Now, you kill anyone who makes that same choice."

He remains silent, confirmation enough.

"Who is your partner?"

He's always remained wearing his mask, never interacting with me.

"An old partner of mine from my EMS squad. Just crazy enough in the head to assist me."

Seeing Sara trying to comfort a crying Olivia even as she herself can barely breathe, James straightens up.

"It's time."

This time, I'm escorted out to a different room, for the first time allowed to see where they take Sara and the other girls when they remove them from the first room.

Seeing it through another two way mirror, my blood goes from cold to boiling.

This room is similar to the other, but it has the distinct difference of having restraints built in along the walls, the floor, hanging from the ceiling.

It looks like a torture room, to be honest.

The masked man brings Sara into the room. Seeing her inability to support her own weight as he lets go of her, he quick readjusts their positions to secure her hands to the restraints hanging from the ceiling. Pulling them tight, he lifts Sara up so that she's hanging from the ceiling by her wrists, her toes barely brushing the ground.

Seeing her struggling even further to breathe in this new position, I lay my hand against the glass, tears making their way silently down my face.

James enters the room as the masked man leaves, approaching Sara.

"Hello, Sara," his voice reaches me through the speakers in the walls.

Sara remains silent.

"I know we haven't had a lot of time to be with one another," he continues. "But I wanted to give you an opportunity to free yourself."

Sara doesn't even change her expression, watching him silently through blank eyes.

"You're free to go," he explains. "All you have to do is get rid of Olivia."

Sara's eyes narrow.

"You're sick," she gets out.

James smiles slightly.

"Well, that response is definitely a first. Usually people are a bit more receptive to learning about a chance to be freed."

"Where's Catherine?" she demands, ignoring his comments, teeth clenched tight in anger, and likely pain.

James watches her.

"She's dead, Sara."

My eyes widen, my gaze darting to Sara who looks like she's trying to process his words.

"You're lying," she whispers, eyes narrowed.

"No," he shrugs. "I didn't want to do it, but she forced my hand, really. Tried to escape. Almost damn near made it, too. I shot her right before she could get to the door."

Sara swallows, arms trying to pull against her restraints.

"You're lying," she breathes out again.

"Sara, I promise you I'm not."

Sara struggles to keep her breathing steady.

Then, without warning, she jerks violently against her restraints, striking out as best she can with her legs.

She connects with James, but she's at such an awkward angle that it barely phases him.

He simply moves out of her reach.

"You bastard," she gets out, body shaking from her movement, from the pain it no doubt caused her. "If you killed her…"

"I appreciate your anger, Sara," James states. "But it's a waste of time to try to convince yourself of her death or think of ways to avenge it. You're here, alone. And the only chance for you to free yourself is through Olivia. Have her drink this, and it's over. You're free."

He places a water bottle in front of her on the ground.

"I'll let you stay here for awhile and think about what I've said." He backs up. "When you're ready to consider my offer, let me know. I'll be listening."

He backs up, giving her one last look before he exits.

When he reenters my room, I pound on the glass.

"You can't do that to her," I scream out. "You can't leave her in there thinking I'm dead! That's not true, and it's not fair."

He shrugs.

"I've seen the lengths that girl has gone to to try to save you," he says. "If she thinks you're alive, there's no way she would elect to save her life and leave without you."

He's right, but it makes my blood boil further.

"You still can't leave her in there," I gesture angrily towards the brunette. "She can't breathe hanging there like that!"

He looks over at Sara, the brunette taking in one strangled breathe after another, blood starting to resume it's familiar paths from her nose and mouth.

"That's the point, Catherine."

His whispered words bring my wide eyes to him.

"Her own life is going to be the time limit here."

"You're going to leave her in there until she strangles to death?!" I seethe out.

"Or until she chooses to live."

Sara hasn't yet 'chosen to live.'

It's been about five hours, and her breathing has become shallower and shallower with each passing hour.

There have been times when her breathing has stopped altogether before she drags in a shaking breath.

It's hell to watch, to see Sara literally dying before my eyes.

About another twenty minutes pass before Sara's head loses its struggle to remain upright, lolling down towards her chest.

"Please," I beg. "She's clearly made her decision."

He doesn't respond and another hour passes, Sara deteriorating further.

As her body goes limp, I gesture to the now lifeless brunette, hanging from the chains.

"She's passed out," I grind out. "She couldn't change her mind even if she wanted to. She's going to remain unconscious as her body gets less and less oxygen. Eventually asphyxiating herself."

He simply watches Sara.

"Please," I beg him. "At least let me go in there. She shouldn't be alone…when…"

I don't have the strength left in me to say that she shouldn't be alone when she takes her last breaths.

Sara's too good of a person for that to be her last moments – to simply stop breathing in a cold cement room all alone.

"She proved herself to not be that selfish person looking to save her life over someone else's," I continue to beg tearfully. "I know you won't let her go. But, please, at least don't let her die alone."

I've given up on convincing him to let her live, I tried that during the first five hours. He ignored every word, every tear, every scream.

He told me the only way for Sara's decision to be 'complete' is for her to die. To elect her own death over Olivia's.

I begged, screamed, pleaded with him. Told him he's punishing Sara for choosing 'correctly.' That it's not fair that she would die no matter what she chooses.

He told me once she passes, that he would stick to his word. That the killings would stop.

It should make me feel good, the lives that Sara is saving. That this all ends with her. But, forgive me, all I can think about is Sara. Sara's decision. Sara's sacrifice.

If being with her in her last moments is the best I can get from him, it's what I'm going to die myself trying to get.

Wordlessly, he leaves, appearing in the room where Sara is about a moment later.

Assessing the brunette, he investigationally hits her in a couple places. Eventually, he grabs her tightly along the site of her gunshot wound in her shoulder.

Sara doesn't move.

She's unconscious, slowly breathing her lasts breaths.

He can see that as clear as anyone.

"I'm sorry," James whispers, leaving the room.

Moving back towards me, he escorts me around to bring me to Sara's room.

Letting me go in, he looks between Sara and I.

"I'm sorry," he again whispers, closing the door quietly behind me, leaving us in private.

Though, I have no doubt he will continue to keep an eye on us from behind the mirror.

Not wasting a single more thought on him, I slowly move towards Sara.

Closing my eyes, I step up to her, looking over her lifeless form.

Wiping hastily at the tears in my eyes, I run my fingers down the side of her face.

Feeling her cold skin, I lower my head, bringing my hand to her chest.

I can feel her slow, shuddering breaths, and my silent tears turn to sobs.

"Sara," I choke out. "God, honey…"

I for the first time embrace her with all my strength, knowing that for the first time my actions can cause her no more pain.

"I'm sorry, Sar," I choke out into her chest. "I'm so sorry I got you into this mess. I'm so sorry…"

Hearing her slow heart beats, her heart gradually losing more fight with each beat, I know my time is limited.

Lifting myself onto my toes, I take her jaw in my hand.

Moving myself upward, I don't give a care about the blood, the setting, any of it.

Placing my lips against Sara's, I kiss her deeply.

It's something I know deep inside I've been wanting to do for a long time.

It's tragic in the fact that it's too late.

Even as I kiss her, I feel her heart slowing further.

I thought about trying to start CPR, but it's impossible with her hanging like this. I thought about at least trying to breathe for her, but, seeing the blood continuing to trickle down from her mouth, I know the internal damage is too extensive.

I know she's beyond the help I could offer here, that nothing I could do for her now, even if I could, would be enough to save her shattered body.

She's too injured for me to be able to save her here.

And, that fact is destroying me, ripping me apart, as I'm forced to do nothing but hold her in her last moments.

Hold her and hope that her last moments in this world are peaceful. Are as tranquil and calm as this beautiful person, this beautiful soul, deserves.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head on her chest, my tears mixing with the blood on her shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Sar..."

Hearing her heartbeats continuing to slow, my own heart is ripped apart piece by piece.

Clenching my eyes shut, I keep my screams in my throat, not wanting Sara's last moments to be anything but peaceful.

But, as I suddenly hear a silence under my ear, a silence that lets me know it's all over, the screams tear out of me.

They tear out of me and they don't stop.

AN: Thanks for reading.