Post-Surrender Benson
Olivia, recovering from her four-day kidnapping and torture, sat listlessly on Brian's couch. She stared unseeing at the lit TV screen. Brian watched her from the kitchen, a short step away. It had been almost a month since she'd escaped William Lewis, and she was still as jumpy, seemingly vulnerable as she was before. She hadn't smiled once. She hardly spoke. All of it scared him.
He had no idea what he could do. Although he had a general understanding of the attack, the details of what had happened those four days were a mystery, a secret closely guarded by Olivia. She hadn't said anything about any of it. She'd been holding it to herself, keeping it all inside.
Brian sighed as he returned to his small living space. He handed Olivia her glass of water, watching her hands shake as she reached for it.
"Thank you." Her words made his heart smile. Anything he heard her say was a reminder that she was still alive, still with him. Her life, that was something that Lewis hadn't taken.
Brian had been so sure he was going to lose Olivia. He still felt like he was, every silent day that passed.
Olivia knew his eyes were on her. "I'm going to get ready for bed." She stood up abruptly and left the room to change in his bedroom.
She was thankful for his presence. But she could see him longing to ask questions that she wasn't ready to answer. He looked at her differently than he used to. Everyone did. She wanted him to stop, even if he didn't know he was doing it.
Olivia shut the door behind her, taking a deep breath before slipping out of her blazer. Every fiber slid over her scars. Every inch of fabric reminded her that she was still healing. As she unbuttoned her short-sleeved blouse, she waited in front of the mirror to see her injuries again. When her shirt fell open, she froze. Her fingers traveled from her scarred collarbone to the circular remnants of burns on her chest. Olivia let her right hand slide along her left arm's injuries.
It seemed that dull pain still leaked from the scars. As Olivia looked again at herself in the mirror, she sighed in defeat. It seemed that pain would never go away. She swallowed hard. It was someone else staring back at her from within the reflection. A teardrop landed on her shoulder as she watched the stranger stare from a world much different than her own. She'd lived, but for what? A life like this? It was hardly a life. She was just waiting to slip and find herself gone forever.
The door opened after a gentle knock. Olivia spun, clutching her shirt and holding it together as she found Brian standing there. He hadn't seen her battered body since her rescue. She'd kept her sleeves long, her shirt's cut high.
"No, Olivia - it's ok. I want to see." He took a cautious step toward her.
Olivia reciprocated quickly, taking her own step back. "No."
She felt her tears coming. She didn't know what she was trying to hide from him with her concealment. Perhaps she felt if another person witnessed them, touched her scars, it would become all too real for her. She didn't care what it was. She just didn't want him to see.
"Please." Her whispered plea came as another tear made its way down her cheek.
Brian felt his mind deploring him to do as she wished, but his heart said differently. He had to see. She had to let him see. It was just something that they both needed to do.
"Liv I know - I know it's hard." Brian felt his own emotions threatening to take his voice from him. He was right in front of her as he reached out for her arms as they kept her shirt closed.
Olivia let more tears follow the others' trail. She watched his eyes, calming to her. One day or another he would see those marks, evidence of the atrocities she'd experienced. Brian's hands were the final stroke of comfort. She trusted him. And so she slowly let him guide her hands to her side. She held one of his hands gently.
"Show me." He asked her softly.
Olivia took his right hand and lifted it to her collarbone steadily. It was the hardest thing she'd had to do in the presence of someone else. She was letting him in. She closed her eyes as his fingers came to rest on the skin, the damage. Brian inhaled deeply as he probed it tenderly.
"A key." Olivia felt her eyes stop their flood of emotion as she explained the lasting wound. Brian held her hand that hung at her side as she moved his fingers across her skin. No flashbacks came.
She stopped at one of the many circular marks on her chest. Brian's eyes never strayed from Olivia's. He didn't need to look at her scars. Instead, he wanted to feel them as she did. He silently told her that he wasn't going to see her as any less of a woman just because of what remained of her assault.
"Cigarettes." She whispered, driving the spear further into Brian.
It hurt to know, to feel that what happened was real. Its effects weren't going to go away on their own. Her hand guided his to the other side of her chest. His fingers followed a pair of long, thin areas of raised skin. Olivia began to find Lewis' face as she felt Brian's hand on the wounds that had been some of the most painful she'd endured. She took a deep breath as she looked straight into Brian's eyes. He was hurting too, she saw.
"His knife." They both noticed the tremor when she spoke. It channeled her agony to him.
Her hand squeezed his at her side as their other two continued their journey. Her body was like a timeline, one of great pain, yet of great strength. His fingers stroked the length of her right arm, catching each raised scar. Olivia said nothing when she moved him to her other arm. She didn't have to explain them. He could feel for himself what had caused them each. Every cigarette burn, key mark and laceration integrated their pain to his own arms. Olivia kept her breaths slow and steady as Brian reached the end of her left arm.
Gently, still gazing at him, keeping herself with him in safety, she moved his hand to where the mark of robbed authority remained. Brian found his fingers resting on the raised scar on Olivia's forehead. She swallowed, enabling herself to speak.
"My gun." It hurt to say, more than the others. Her own property displaying her power and authority had been used to create a permanent mark of pain upon her very skin.
Brian felt his emotion surface faster than what he could control it. His vision blurred as the gates within him opened. He moved his hand to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. His eyes tried to tell her that it didn't change her, that one mark couldn't take her power.
Olivia had one last place she hurt. Maybe he could help mend it. Her body wasn't aware that she was even moving their hands, but they moved anyway. Brian let his tears fall when he found his hand resting flat on her chest, directly over Olivia's heart. He felt it beating. The scar was invisible, but it was there. Olivia let it rest there, and she pulled the corners of her mouth into a sad smile. As she did, Brian witnessed the evidence of her constant struggle. Through her smile, two glistening orbs slid all the way down her cheeks.
Brian let his hand fall from her heart as he brought her into his arms, crying endlessly into her shoulder. Olivia held him tightly, letting him take her weight. It felt so inexplicably good to share her load with someone else, someone who would help. The scars were real. The aftermath was real. And now neither one of them could pretend as if it wasn't.
They held each other for an eternity. Olivia finally knew Brian was on the road with her. She wasn't alone in her journey back from the darkest place she'd ever been.
He knew she was still the woman he'd always known. Brian held Olivia, unable to fathom what horrors she'd suffered. She had such courage, showing him the marks that were left. It helped him understand her withdrawal, her silence.
"Olivia." He released her, still holding both of her soft hands.
"You're so beautiful." He said, so sincerely his knees got weak.
Olivia had the words hit her hard. He couldn't know the magnitude those words had in the relieving of her shame. Even with those marks, he still saw her as a beautiful woman. Another, final drop of shining emotion dropped from her eye.
"Oh, Brian." She shook her head. "You don't know how much that means." Her voice fell to a whisper. "Thank you."
They spent the beginnings of the night, Brian's arms holding her as she fell into an easy sleep. While she slept, he let his hand feel the perfect imperfections of her arms. He loved the beautiful skin even more now. Her body's scars were simply proof that she was healing. They showed how strong she was. She'd lived. She'd survived. And he would do whatever it took to get her back to where she could smile everyday, where she could see her scars as lasting marks of her incredible strength. He would be right next to her the whole way.