Chapter 6
Josephine's body shook so badly she couldn't walk more than a few steps without falling to the ground. Her hands and forearms were as red as a rose in full bloom and the pain throbbed in rhythm with the headache that had formed behind her eyes. The skin looked as though it could peel off if she so much as brushed against anything.
No Decepticon had ordered her to leave yet, and so she had sat on the newly cleaned floor, waiting as time ticked along to the beat of the slowest song imaginable. Pain had given way to a sickly feeling that seeped through her whole body, leaving her cold and hot and aching everywhere.
Silently, Josephine prayed that she would pass out so the misery that was her body would go away, however momentary that would be. But as she flicked her aching eyes back to Starscream and the group of Decepticons that he held court with, it occurred to her that he might devise some sort of worse misery for her to endure should she pass out now. So, to keep her eyes from falling shut, Josephine bit her tongue hard until the tang of iron filled her mouth. The pain making her flinch but keeping her awake, allowing her ears to tune back into the current conversation that had turned from alien gibberish to English. Josephine imagined that was intentional.
"Starscream, are you sure your human's not defective?"
Yes, very intentional. She gritted her teeth and tried to force herself to stop shaking but was unsuccessful.
There was a brief pause in the general chatter that had filled the room, and Josephine felt all eyes look at her. She wanted to shield herself from their stares. Hours ago it hadn't mattered to her much, but now that she looked particularly pathetic, Josephine had no desire for them to observe her in this state.
Blood stained her clothes and skin, and her fingernails were caked with it. Josephine was fairly certain her hair wasn't just damp from sweat either, as stray pieces clung to her face. The smell of the chemical—energon, they had called it, had yet to leave her nostrils, making her nearly choke each time she breathed.
"Perhaps, when Thundercracker caught her, it did something to her," Skywarp's distinct, booming voice shook the room along with a chorus of laughter that was immediately silenced by Starscream.
"The human is fine. Unless, the good doctor missed something?"
Knock Out's stammered answer nearly made Josephine rolled her eyes, but it would have hurt too much.
"The human is no doubt experiencing the side effects of Knock Out's energon concoction."
Josephine swore and held her hands close to her chest as a new wave of pain rolled through her body.
Starscream's low chuckle only made her headache worse, "It's toxic, but won't quite kill them. A useful way to keep them in line." There was a pause then a loud click as he snapped his fingers together, "Knock Out, I do want her hands to be operational, but don't diminish the pain."
Knock Out bowed his head, a smirk drifting to his mouth, "As you wish, Commander Starscream."
"Barricade, take the human back to the cells. I'm done with her…for now." A smile crawled up Starscream's face, and Josephine flinched as chills traveled up her spine.
She tried to walk, but her slow pace irked Barricade to the point where he picked her up, Josephine's hands screaming in protest as metal came into contact with her skin.
Delirium must have clouded her mind enough to not realize Knock Out had joined them at some point, because she wasn't aware of his presence until after she'd been practically tossed into the cell.
"Apply this to where your skin made contact with the energon," Knock Out set a metal canister beside her, "unless you would like to be rid of both of your hands and arms permanently."
No sooner had Knock Out spoken, than did Josephine feel strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her shivering body into his warm and steady one. She didn't even register the sound of the door closing; her pain was growing to a point where it drowned out everything else.
Her hands, her hands, her hands.
Those two words repeated over and over again in her mind; her hands were ruined. Tears blurred her vision, but she fought to extricate herself from Simon's grasp. Whatever was in that canister, she didn't care as long as it saved her hands and stopped the pain. Anything to stop the pain.
As soon as Josephine attempted to open the lid, the scream that she had suppressed for hours finally broke free. Distantly, she was aware of Simon trying to soothe her as he worked the lid off and scooped up a small amount of the contents into one hand.
Before he could ask to see her hands, Josephine practically threw herself forward trying to get to what would take away her living hell.
And thankfully, Simon seemed to understand her urgency. He didn't hesitate before placing the salve onto the tops of her hands, his own hands so gentle as he tried to work it into the skin.
Josephine tried to pull out of his grasp, but he held onto her, making her hiss in pain. The contact of his hands and the salve only increased her discomfort, forcing her to bite down on another urge to scream.
"Simon."
"I'm trying to hurry as fast as I can, I swear."
She shook her head as he continued to rub more and more of the salve onto her blistering skin. The pain wasn't ceasing, it was growing.
"Simon, stop," she gasped, the searing pain stealing her breath.
"Hands are done, just a bit more."
He reached for her wrists and Josephine jerked back, shaking her head vehemently. She clenched her eyes shut, a pained moan escaping her mouth.
"Please, I'm almost done—"
"It's making it worse," she ground out. Her eyes met his and she could see panic lining his every feature. Josephine just shook her head, clenching her eyes shut. She couldn't do it, wouldn't do it.
The shock of the cold salve on her arms had her gasping for breath and pain racing through every nerve ending in her body.
"Simon, stop, please," her whimper sounded pathetic even to her own ears.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."
Despite his apology, he didn't stop. Only once did Josephine try to push him away, but it was futile and left her hurting worse than before.
She cried and screamed and swore at him. Every touch pushing her closer to the edge of oblivion.
Finally, he stopped touching her arms. And she sobbed with momentary relief that it was over.
"I imagine we will have to do that regularly," he reluctantly stated.
Josephine breathed hard, heart beating wildly, "Over my dead body."
Pain laced through her again and she whimpered, curling onto her side on the cool floor, letting it soothe her enflamed skin.
Simon gently wrapped his arms around her, avoiding her hands and forearms, and moved her to the bed. He guided Josephine's body gently onto the mattress, as though she might break into a million pieces.
Even though he was so very careful, it didn't matter. Her body ached and hurt with a fierceness that refused to ebb. Shaking, Josephine clutched her hands to her chest and turned toward the wall, begging silently for the pain to go away.
She felt the mattress give slightly, and a soothing hand run up and down her back before Simon spoke again, "Does anything else hurt?"
If she hadn't felt as though the sun had scorched her skin, Josephine might have laughed, instead she managed to breathe out, "Head."
And then Simon was rubbing her head, fingers lingering on pressure points that offered a brief sense of relief. It was glorious. And soon Josephine found herself drifting off, sweet darkness pulling her under.
Groggily, Josephine opened her eyes to what she assumed must have been nighttime. The lights were dimmed, giving the room and hallway beyond an eerie glow.
She delicately turned onto her other side, wincing at pain that had only somewhat dulled, and saw that Simon's bed was empty. Panic shot adrenaline into her veins, and she sat up, head pounding with the movement.
"Simon," she croaked, mouth dry.
Her eyes finally looked down and spotted him lying on the floor beside her bed, now rubbing his eyes.
"Josephine?"
Relief replaced fear, and Josephine sunk back down into her bed, a shaky sigh escaping her mouth.
Simon sat up fully, looking at her intently, worry clearly evident in his eyes, "How are you feeling?"
The question reminded her of what she had fallen asleep feeling like, and she shook her head trying to rid herself of the memory of what had happened.
"Better than before. My hands still feel like they're burning, but they look better."
She held her hands this way and that. They were healing quick, abnormally quick. If luck was on her side, the scarring would be minimal, and for that she was grateful.
Simon's whole body seemed to relax at her statement, "Good. I applied the salve while you were asleep."
Josephine frowned, "How long was I out?"
"A little over two days," his eyes ran over her as if trying to ascertain the exact amount of pain Josephine was currently experiencing. "Let me get you some water. I saved what I could when they brought meals by."
After she'd drank some water, Josephine excused herself to clean the sweat and grime off her body. Simon told her he'd found extra sets of their clothes under the sink, saying they all looked like the exact same thing. She snorted when he joked that the Decepticons were boring when it came to fashion.
The bathroom they shared was tiny: one toilet, one sink, and one shower. There wasn't anything fancy about it, just enough items to maintain their cleanliness.
Josephine cringed when the cold water hit her skin, the warmest she could get it was a very mild lukewarm. But given the state of her hands it was probably for the best. Shakily, she finished the rest of the shower, after taking her time scrubbing off as much of the grime that coated her while simultaneously trying to avoid making her arms and hands hurt any worse.
There were two threadbare towels, and after using one to dry herself off, she stepped into a new set of clothes, relishing the feeling of being clean. No blood or chemical smell to be found.
Her eyes met her form in the small, circular mirror that was above the sink. It had been nearly two weeks since everything had changed and already Josephine could see the lack of sleep and fear eating away at her. If the Decepticons didn't kill her first, she wondered if her own body would betray her on its own accord.
Her mind began to spiral. Questions of 'what if,' swirled around her head. If she saw more death. If she faced actual torture. If they hurt or killed Simon. If she was pushed to the limit. What then? Would she be able to endure it, or would she crack and crumble underneath the weight of it all?
Emotionally, she still hadn't gotten past her own parents' deaths, and Josephine couldn't even begin to imagine what seeing more death would do to her. The idea she had had of getting to know any of the other humans around them began to wither and die as quickly as a flower planted in the middle of a desert.
It was already bad enough that she'd begun to form a friendship with Simon, and God only knew just how heartbroken she would be if Simon were killed. They weren't even truly that close, yet she knew every day they shared food and conversation and bonded over shared trauma… that bond would grow closer and closer. And the day one of them died, it would leave the other alone and broken.
There was no way Josephine could chance building another relationship like that, even if her heart desperately desired to have friends once more. She'd been on her own for so long that the idea of being able to have conversations with new people had been the one good and exciting thing about seeing other humans here. But now…
Josephine's heart clenched in her chest. If she met anyone else, she'd have to kill the possibility of friendship before the friendship could kill her. Perhaps it wouldn't be as hard as she thought. Maybe the rest of the humans here had come to similar conclusions and would avoid her, making it easier.
The only thing remaining that worried her was Simon. They had a budding friendship, and as much as Josephine wanted to shrink away and pull back from him, if she did so now, she'd be stuck in her own mind, alone. And something told her Simon probably wouldn't allow it to happen. No, he'd keep trying to pry her open until he died and then she'd truly be left alone, and…
Gripping the edge of the sink, hands burning, she shook her head. No. Josephine would not allow it. She refused to fall into the net of anxiety that her mind had begun to create. Yes, her body could fail her, the Decepticons could kill her, but it wasn't like her to just accept her fate.
Being on the run for as long as she had proved as much. Josephine looked into her reflection's eyes and made a promise. She would not die. Not here. If she were to die, it wouldn't be until she was on earth and free. And she'd fight with every part of her being to make that so. Josephine had boundaries, yet she knew in her bones she'd do almost anything to survive if that was the cost to be free once more.
Josephine shoved the worry, the fear, the anxiety, the pain—all of it, to the back of her mind, slamming the door shut, and locking it closed.
When she finally rejoined Simon, it was as though he could tell something was wrong but couldn't pinpoint what it was, asking if she was okay, or if the pain was back, or if she was hungry.
She shook off the feeling of dread that sat like a dead weight in her gut and offered him a small smile, "I'm just tired."
Josephine winced, hands flaring up again.
"You don't happen to have more of the salve?"
Before she completed the sentence, Simon had the canister and was already scooping up the contents, ready to reapply.
Her eyes scanned him, Simon's hair was mussed from sleep, but his eyes looked as though he hadn't actually slept, rather just laid beside her.
As he began to rub the salve into her skin, Josephine remarked, "Why not move the bed closer?"
Simon's hands stopped moving briefly, eyes meeting hers, "I tried, they're bolted to the floor." He shrugged, "I don't think that's the only reason I didn't get much sleep."
Josephine frowned, "You didn't have to do that, you know?"
"I wanted to be closer, in case you needed something."
It wasn't lost on Josephine that it could have been an easy excuse for him to sleep in bed with her, but he'd been honorable about it.
"You do realize we sleep only a few feet apart, right?"
He snorted, "Don't try to downplay my chivalry right now."
She gave a half-hearted laugh, watching as his fingers gently rubbed the salve in circular movements until it was nearly soaked into her hands. The calluses along his hands lightly grazed against her smooth skin, warm fingers making her heart stutter and her face heat.
Before she could think better of it, Josephine yanked her hands back, leaving Simon reaching for air.
"I—I think I can do it now. They don't hurt as bad as they did." Josephine bit her cheek, willing Simon to not say anything.
His forehead creased in confusion, but reluctantly he handed the small tin over to her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Josephine deftly ignored him, turning her back and sitting on the edge of her bed as she rubbed the rest of the salve along her wrists and arms, fighting not to wince at the small bursts of pain the alighted along her nerves.
Without much preamble, Simon let her know he'd be showering and to shout if something happened or she needed anything.
Once he'd disappeared behind the curtain to the bathroom, Josephine sighed, laying back on her bed and trying desperately not to focus on the lingering heat of Simon's hands on her own.