Chapter Seventeen
Vivien had thought her day couldn't get any weirder. A visit from two witches of Oz was bizarre enough; the following phone conversation with Regina was even worse. She hadn't heard such a string of expletives since Grumpy got his foot caught in a bear trap. If it were possible to cast spells over a phone line Vivien didn't doubt she'd already be something small and reptilian.
Compounding the oddness was the fact that Vivien was generating magic sparks. Like static electricity building up and discharging at a touch, magic can accumulate in the air and ground itself in nearby vessels. So far she'd accidentally set fire to seven blank pages while trying to write notes, boiled a bottle of gel and turned her coffee mug into a potted azalea.
"I have got to get out of here." She mumbled as she stared at the flower. A sticky note joined the act and turned into a butterfly, happy to rest on the red bloom.
The last patient of the day was Ava Tillman, the mechanic's daughter. She'd been racing to drag herself and her brother to safety when she fell and sprained her ankle. The little girl came in limping and half hidden in her father's jacket.
Precious thing, they always think daddy can help them.
"Hi, Ava. I'm Vivien. I understand you're having some trouble walking?" Vivien went down on one knee. She always hated doctors that insisted on simply bending over like they were leaning down from on high. It was condescending and invaded a lot more of the child's personal space. The girl nodded but stayed silent.
"I thought the swelling would go down after a few days but it hasn't gotten any better. It's been over a week." The father, Michael, explained as he helped his daughter to a seat on the table. He never let go of her hand.
Remind you of anyone? She was probably about the same age . . .
"Well, let's see what I can find." Vivien felt like she needed to pound the side of her head to shake the thoughts out. But that didn't always instill the greatest confidence in patients.
She was right, of course. Ava did look about the same age. Lake palpated her foot and ankle, concentrating on keeping the magic humming in her fingertips at bay. As she watched the girl's face she noticed the eye color and complexion were about the same too. Cleaner though, and better nourished.
Well, that's just unfair. This one probably has access to far better amenities. Running water, fresh food, family.
"No avulsion fracture," Vivien hastily announced, possibly louder than needed, "That's good. I think the subtalar joint is out though and that can prevent proper healing as well as make her prone to re-injury."
"So you can fix it?" it was the first thing Ava had said. Her voice was worried but determined.
Determined to be a big girl, no matter the pain.
"Well, we're going to adjust the joint and then do some water baths and exercises. After that you'll have to wear a bandage and maybe a special shoe just until the last of the swelling goes down. That sound ok?" Lake busied herself writing up notes for therapy instructions, avoiding the penetrating gaze of the huge blue-grey eyes. She was distracted by the way the ink of her pen wafted above the page for a few seconds before settling and soaking in.
"Can you fix it?" the girl repeated, not budging from the question. Vivien sighed and looked up at her. It was a simple sprained ankle, nothing she hadn't dealt with a thousand times. Just because the girl looked like a piece of her past didn't mean she was any different from the others. The rampant magic was a nuisance but not crippling.
"Yes," Lake nodded, certain, "I can fix it. So long as you help me."
"Ok." Ava was finally satisfied and smiled, looking up at her father in relief.
There you go making promises again. You know how that works for you.
"Alright, now lay back on your side. Dad, we'll need you to move. No, no, it's ok, you can still hold his hand. You just need to stretch out." Lake guided the two people into appropriate positions so she could get proper hold of the ankle. She knew she was talking but it was all autopilot. Her brain was struggling to stay present.
I found them in the forest.
"Is that pressure ok? Good. Now, I'm just going to adjust the joint with a little flick. All you have to do is stay relaxed."
I found them. She was too young to be terrified and he was too old to be brave. In the forest. I found them.
"Did that hurt? No? Good, now let's check the other side, roll over."
Lake felt like she was going numb. She was losing sensation in her fingers. Not now! She took a deep angry breath to chase away the leafy foliage that was starting to clutter her vision. The smell of ash and oak trees stayed in her nostrils.
"Right, now you just sit for a minute while I get the water baths ready. Maybe you can help your dad be brave. I think he's looking a bit scared." Vivien gave Ava a conspiratorial wink. She wasn't exaggerating. The man had been holding his breath through the adjustments like it was his own foot.
In the gym Lake prepped the two foot baths. She paused and rested her forehead against the cupboards, reciting over and over the exercises she wanted to have Ava do. Her hands were resting on either tub of water but she didn't notice the effect until she heard the sound of cracking ice. One foot bath was freezing over and the other had begun to boil. The steam added an even more surreal note to Vivien's tenuous grasp of reality.
She was too young to be terrified. I promise it'll be ok. Go now, I'll take care of him for you. Don't make promises you can't keep, Child.
NOT NOW! Vivien thumped her forehead against the cupboard, rattling the thoughts before they could take hold. Later. I will remember later. I promise. I will suffer as much as you want. Just, please, let me get through this!
The supplication touched a note somewhere and her subconscious relented. The taunting voice and memories both faded. For a second she thought she could see the Mistress' face. Blowing a kiss.
Later.
Mercifully her mind was quiet for the rest of the time with Ava and Michael. Her fingers didn't feel like stones, the magic side effects relented and she could clearly smell disinfectant. She even got Ava to laugh while they worked with the baths and exercises. After an hour they were on their way out with a list of instructions and a follow-up appointment already scheduled. Vivien scrutinized them carefully as they walked away. Ava moved a little awkwardly in the stirrup but she wasn't limping anymore.
Cleaning her office and packing her things Vivien looked up at the clock. 5 pm. Done for the day on time for a change. She could go home and. . .What exactly? Maybe she'd go over to the Rabbit Hole for a drink to take the edge off her nerves. And run into Glinda and Thea again? Vivien frowned. She liked the idea of being around people, just not individuals. She always felt most at home when she was lost in a crowd. Why couldn't Storybrooke ever have a good rock concert? Not that she'd ever really been to one. But the memories were fun.
Walking out of the hospital doors into the brisk evening was like stepping into a hunters trap. The sense of panic welled up inside her chest like a scream.
'Later' can come sooner than you think. The laughter was worse than the words. Every lungful of air felt tainted and dark. Something very bad was happening and Vivien wasn't entirely sure it was just inside her head anymore. She walked quicker, imagining she could outrun the fear.
The paved cement turned to a dirt path, muddy from fall rain. She knew the trees around her still had bright green leaves but everything she saw was brown and dying. The footsteps of others fell into a rhythm, marching in time. She walked faster but the soldiers kept up.
In the forest. I found them. Young and old and helpless.
She knew where she was going. Turn left at the granite boulder that had centuries of blood stains. Voices that called to her simply became the prisoners. They were pleading for their life. The girl was trying not to cry. A quarter mile up this road and then a right at the fork. The soldiers were pushing them along, making them keep pace despite the fact that their feet were partially bound and the paths were slick. The old man fell more often than the girl but she whimpered more.
"Please."
"Shuttup!" Vivien spun and shouted. Reality returned for a moment and she was looking at empty space. Ten feet further away Ruby and a girl with a baby were staring at her.
"Sorry." Shit. Lake spun and resumed her rapid walk, the shouted questions obliterated by the sound of armored boots echoing her steps. Vivien couldn't get away from them, no matter how fast she began to run. They were with her. They were hers. Her soldiers; her prisoners. Now she was on the stone paved road to the castle. The rocks had been worn smooth by so many feet and carriage wheels that they were slick and loud. The castle towers were too high for even the ivy to cling all the way up. Instead they jutted out of the evergreen like bones of a skeleton come up from the grave.
Vivien pounded on the massive doors, louder in her mind when steel gauntlet met the iron brackets. In Storybrooke the door didn't budge. No one was home. That reality was too far away now. Lake sank to the ground on the doorstep, pulling her knees to her chin as she walked through the door in her past.
You promised me.
"I promised I'd find them. They were in the forest." Vivien presented the bound prisoners to her Mistress. She avoided making eye contact with either of them as she cut their ties. They could have no doubt where they were or what was in store. The Mistress never bothered greeting captives in a civil setting. She preferred to have them brought directly to the dungeon where all the tools and trappings of pain could stoke already panicked imaginations.
"You're certain they're the ones who saw the knights?" Mistress approached and studied the girl and her grandfather. The child's mother had died in childbirth, her father in the wars. It had just been the two of them alone in that cottage for many years.
"We tracked the horses to their home and I cast a time capture. There were at least four of them in the cottage yard for over an hour." Vivien nodded. Glimpses of different times. There was a power her sisters could never have imagined. Sure, they could predict future outcomes given certain variables but they couldn't actually make the ghostly images of past and future flicker before them.
"Then that was where they received succor and further orders from my brother. No doubt they are here to spy on me. I want to know where they are heading." Mistress looked between the old man and the little girl, allowing her gaze to demand the answer. Both stayed resolutely silent. Loyalty runs deep in a people that have nothing else to be proud of.
"Tell her what she needs to know." Vivien tried to sound commanding but she couldn't keep the edge of plea from her voice. She knew what was coming next. The captives who refused to talk were tortured. Those that spoke too soon were also tortured, in case they were lying. Pain was very clearly in their future but it was a question of how much and for how long. Vivien always tried to leave as soon as that part began. Lately the Mistress had been forcing her to stay and watch.
Mistress looked between the man and the girl and made a mental decision. She grabbed the child by her arm.
"No! I tell you we don't know anything! There were no knights!" the grandfather lunged to protect his family and was struck to the ground by a soldier. The girl writhed in the sorceress' iron grip, contorting herself in every direction as she tried to get to the stricken man.
"We shall see. Torture him." She uttered the command directly to Vivien.
"What?!" Vivien recoiled. She had never been asked to do anything of the kind.
"You've watched me enough times, I'm sure you know how it works." Mistress gestured casually to all the accoutrements in the room. The child's frightened eyes followed the movement and redoubled her efforts to get free. Her weak struggle didn't even move the Mistress' wrist.
"I don't do that. I can't do that." She shook her head. There were limits to the dark that had been seeping into her. She'd felt pieces of herself fading over the months, like she were bleeding out of invisible wounds. But to deliberately harm; that was contrary to her very nature.
"Don't be silly, child. Of course you can. You know how the body works, how it heals and how it hurts. You must only take what you know and think in reverse."
"No. That's not part of our deal." Her protest had more strength and defiance in it than she had felt within herself in years. Mistress heard it too. Her eyes narrowed and she crossed to Vivien, towering over her with ice in her eyes.
"Our deal is that I would teach you all the magic I know. You've stagnated. Your pity is making you weak. You will torture the old man or I will torture the child." The words were absolute. Even the little girl stopped struggling as the truth froze her bones.
Vivien looked down at the child, staring up at her imploring. She couldn't answer, just nodded her acquiescence.
"That's better," Mistress smiled sweetly and backed away, "Tie him. I'll keep the girl with me until you finish."
"No!" it was the first time since arriving in the castle that the girl had spoken, now she was screaming while being dragged away.
"It'll be alright," Vivien found herself trying to comfort the girl even as the soldiers were binding the old man to a rack, "I'll take care of him. I promise!"
She didn't know if the girl could hear her over her grandfather's protests, the curses of the guards or her own shrieking.
Dismissing the guards, Vivien stood beside the rack and simply looked at the old man for a while. He wasn't fighting his restraints. He met her gaze with the steady, clear eye of a man who knew his fate and wouldn't fight it.
"For her sake, please, tell me what I need to know." Vivien leaned close, searching his face for help.
"Don't let her hurt my girl! I know nothing of any knights, Lady. Please!" he raised his head a far as he could, fervent in his sincerity. She rested her hand over his. He saw the hopelessness in her face and fell back, closing his eyes in surrender.
"I'm sorry." She squeezed once.
Mistress was right. Vivien knew the body. She knew the rhythms of blood, the crackle of its unique energy, the routes and speeds and strengths of every sensation. For centuries she'd been adept at finding the source of pain, soothing the fire, pulling away the sharpness and heat. She felt colors that moved in waves and vortexes. She could wash them away, like water flowing over wet paint she could course her own special power into the body to dilute the pain, cleanse the wound, protect what had been left exposed. It had always simply been a matter of pouring in. Now she had to pull.
The face of the little girl stayed behind her eyes as she began to find the loose threads in the old muscles. Each tug yanked successively louder gasps from the old man's clenched teeth.
How does the body heal? Layer by layer, strands on strands like tapestries woven over and over.
Reverse.
Strip away.
A layer at a time.
What started as moans and yelps of pain at superficial levels grew into screams as she reached deeper. The sound of true pain was indecipherable between man and beast and Vivien closed her eyes, watching the unraveling of the colors and listening for the right noise.
There!
"The knights. Tell me about them." She demanded again, not daring to open her eyes because she knew she couldn't continue if she had to see his face. This was just blood and muscle. It was only a beginning.
"I don't know! I swear to you there were no knights! I swear!" his cry was so fervent that the spit hit her cheek. She had no choice but to move further in. Now it was bones.
The whole body could be made to cannibalize itself. A nudge here, a false message there and entire limbs were sacrificed to save the good of the rest. It was hours. From skin to muscle, muscle to bone; down to the organs. Vivien had never known a single organism so well as she learned every nuance and sensation of the old body as he writhed and thrashed on the table. She never knew when he stopped screaming because the echoes continued in her ears long past the time when he was too weak to carry on.
The sounds of agony had burrowed into the marrow of her bones, louder and softer with her every breath as she staggered out of the dungeon. She could barely see in front of herself and threw up in the stone corridor outside the Great Hall. The Mistress was standing in an open window, gazing out at the evening stars, lost in her own reverie and apparently at total peace. The anger and nausea rose in Vivien's throat. She choked it down. Anger wouldn't help her convince the Mistress of the truth. She had to make her believe.
"He doesn't know anything about the knights. Truly. If he'd had even a shred of information he would've given it up to me hours ago. You have to believe me." Vivien implored, staying outside of striking distance in case the answer was unacceptable to the volatile sorceress. The woman turned with an air of surprise.
"Oh heavens, child! Have you been with him this whole time? I got what I needed from the girl hours ago! The old man wasn't even home when the knights came by, she was the one that aided them. She confessed everything within minutes of hearing his first scream." She actually laughed.
Vivien felt the room lurch. Everything in her vision pulled and stretched at the edges before snapping back into place.
"You knew. You knew all along that he was innocent. You KNEW he couldn't help you!" she stormed forward now, ration slipping under the wave of anger that was surging forward.
"On the contrary, he was the only one that could help me. Did you really think that child would give up her information unless she was motivated? You did very well." The Mistress dismissed her anger, it bored her. Anger was always irrelevant unless it served some purpose. Anger could harness power, it could force mistakes, it could overwhelm enemies or break minds. At this moment, however, none of those things were necessary so it simply didn't matter.
Vivien was trying to learn that same ability and forced the emotion to one side. It wasn't important. What mattered was that the Mistress had the information she wanted. That meant the prisoners could leave. Terrified, battered and scarred but whole. They could go back to their lives in peace.
"Would you like soldiers to escort them back into the forest or shall we just release them?" Vivien hoped she opted for soldiers; then the old man could at least be given a ride. He was in no shape to walk yet. She left him convalescing with as many spells as she knew but it took time to reverse such damage. It had taken hours to inflict, it would be weeks to heal.
"Release whom?" a genuine expression of confusion clouded the sorceress' face.
"The captives. They can go home, can't they? Where is the girl?" Vivien looked around now, realizing that she hadn't passed any occupied cells on her way out of the dungeon, yet the child was obviously not here either.
"Oh, poor dear, I put her out of her misery. She really wouldn't have had much life would she? Too young to care for herself and no one else to look after her."
"No one else?! She has her grandfather!" the explosion of anger rumbled through the room and knocked over furniture before being stopped abruptly by the Mistress' raised hand.
"You mean you left him alive?" she stood in front of Vivien and scrutinized her face, searching for any deception.
"Of course I did." The apprentice whispered back, her hands balling into powerless fists. The Mistress brushed fingers over her flushed cheek, soothing the sting of frustration. The touch would've been tender except for the twist of her lips. Her triumphant smile was serpent's venom.
"Why, dear child, you are even more heartless than I thought."
Vivien had no concept of how long she suffered in her memory. It felt like she relived every moment, some of them longer than hours. When the torture was over there was only silence left. The darkness beneath her thoughts was both void and shadow.
That had been the beginning of the end. From there it was a never ending stream of wrong decisions, lost battles and twisted realities. Kill a man to spare his village, only to find out he was the last survivor. Stop a flooding river to save lives, only to lose them all because the drought killed all the crops. Free prisoners only to find they'd been infected with a virulent plague. With every wrong choice Vivien gave up hope of ever being right. No matter what she did the Mistress was always a step ahead and the bodies continued to pile.
She'd given up. At some point she simply surrendered. She knew people were going to die either way so she stopped caring if it was by her own hand. People became numbers and after a while even numbers lose meaning. Now she stared into the dark Maine evening and wondered how many she'd forgotten. How many never mattered enough to count at all?
"Vivien?" the voice jolted her from the miserable introspection and Lake looked up, seeing Regina silhouetted in the porch light. She opened her mouth to reply but couldn't call up any of the right words. All that wanted to come out was screams but there were so many they blocked her throat. Her lips moved without sound.
"Vivien, what are you doing here?" Regina spoke again, coming closer and leaning down to inspect her visitor, one hand resting on her shoulder. The touch was grounding. There was a solid reality to the small brunette. She wasn't just firm, she was absolute. Her presence was the anchor Lake needed to escape the raging winds inside her head.
"I think I need to be here. I'm afraid of what I might do." Vivien admitted. The admission surprised Mills but she didn't distance herself. She weighed the words and the risk against the tone and face bearing them.
"I suppose you'd better come in, hadn't you?" Regina finally decided. Vivien rose gratefully and stepped into the one place that promised refuge. Whether it was an asylum or a prison cage, here she couldn't hurt anyone.