The following is filtered to John Connor:
"My husband is here." Her voice wavers; the cracks in Bellatrix's emotional dam are beginning to show. (Even without the visual.) But what will start to trickle, and eventually pour out from those cracks is unpredictable. It could be fury, or immense sorrow. The only thing that is certain is that Madame
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When John gets the message, he doesn't respond. He turns his comm device over in his hand, contemplating. Later, after he's spoken to Martha and managed to talk his way out of the infirmary without anyone hypoing him into another sedative coma, he returns to his room to make sure the Admiral put Bellatrix's wand there, pulls on a jacket to cover up the bandages that still peek out from under his shirt, and then heads down to zero.
He's quiet as he walks down the hall. When he arrives, he merely looks through the bars at his inmate for a long moment - and then slowly sits down on the bench across from the cell door.
"What happened?"
Apparently, thanks to the lack of specificity, she is free to interpret his aim as she wishes.
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"I wanted to go home," seems a suitably vague answer to his delightfully unspecific question.
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"You know that I sympathize with you on that."
They talked about it. The fact that, if he could, he'd auto-pass her so that he could get his deal and go the fuck home. (If she'd read his file, she'd understand, too, about his mother; his feelings about people being held against their will run deep and visceral. Not even the knowledge of Bellatrix being what she is overrides that in him.)
But it's not possible. And now he's got a job to do.
"Talk me through what you did."
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Bellatrix's arrogance gets her into trouble, and it's a lesson she only learned too late. In some ways, she understands that this place is her second chance. But she doesn't correct her mistakes easily, and it's that same arrogance that caused her to burn the file she received without bothering to read it, as well as accept that offer.
"It isn't as though death is permanent here anyway." Her lip curls faintly. See? It'd hardly even have been a sin if she succeeded.
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