When The Lines Get Blurry 4b
anonymous
January 20 2013, 02:50:02 UTC
He had no doubt that by human standards she was pretty, even with all of her scars, but curled into a ball and covering her head with one arm she looked more like a broken doll. He knew, of course, that he wasn't a permanant resting place for her, just a brief shelter, but he had the desire to fix her. Surely, somewhere beneath all the damage, there had to be something salvagable.
Things couldn't be as hopeles and Lela had alluded. She was alive, after all. Most humans captured so young would have died faced with such steady abuse. If she was alive, then she could recover. She already beat the odds, now she just had to do it again.
His omni-tool beeped and he silenced it hastily. It was Delanus. Still no luck finding an Annika in the missing persons database. Maybe, if she could remember a last name, a home world, a parent, something, they could find her. Maybe she had family. It was unlikely, if she had been enslaved her family was likely dead or had suffered the same fate, but it was a possibility. He thought about how good it would be to see her reunited with people who loved her.
A small sound distracted him from his thoughts. Annika was awake. She was looking over her arm at the television, which had, at some point, switched to showing a blasto movie. It took him a moment to realize that the sound she had made was amusement. He smiled at her, "you're awake."
Her expression vanished as she studied him. He hadn't noticed before how green her eyes were, it matched her red hair well. Her eyes widened suddenly and she started to move, then gripped her ribs and clenched her teeth. Garrus held out his hands, plams face down, "hey, you don't have to move. Just, relax."
Annika touched the back of her neck and brushed her bandage gingerly.
"Are you hungry? If you eat, I can give you something for the pain."
She nodded, her eyes still watching him warily. He prepared a bowl of soup according to Lela's instructions wondering what he could do to show her he didn't intend to harm her. Garrus held out the bowl. She didn't respond, but accepted the bowl without a word.
She must have been starving, but she ate slowly, savoring the food. It was the way someone who was used to not eating ate. Every bite made to last as long as possible. Garrus let her have her space again until she was finished.
"I need to look at your neck, the bandages need changed."
He approached her again. She thrust her head back and to the side, baring her jugular. It was a turian gesture representing both surrender and a plea for mercy. He felt vaguely nausous. "I won't hurt you," how many times would he have to say that? Did she really view him as no different from the krogan or any of her other owners?
How many of the events of the past few hours had she really understood? It would have been horrifying to have so many doctors working on her and not understand. She complied with his requests, turning and bending her neck so he could see the wound, but she was tense.
He talked to her as he worked at the bandage. "Look, I know this has got to be scary for you, but you need to understand: no one is going to hurt you. You aren't a slave anymore." He peeled the old gauze away and replaced it, "the only thinkg you need to do right now is eat, and gain weight, and get healthy." He replaced the bandage, "do you understand?"
There was a long pause where she didn't respond. He sighed and touched the unbandaged side of her neck, resting his hand against it. It was possible that it was his imagaination, but it seemed as if she leaned into the touch slightly. He rubbed a thumb across the back of her neck and she sighed, then shook her head slowly from side to side. His heart sank.
"Nothing ever changes," she said in monotone, it was almost so quiet he couldn't hear it.
He removed his hand. "It's getting late, you should rest, Annika." He handed her one of the little white pain pills and watched her swallow it. Her eyes held that same emotionless look they had in them the first time he saw her. Then a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
He had no doubt that by human standards she was pretty, even with all of her scars, but curled into a ball and covering her head with one arm she looked more like a broken doll. He knew, of course, that he wasn't a permanant resting place for her, just a brief shelter, but he had the desire to fix her. Surely, somewhere beneath all the damage, there had to be something salvagable.
Things couldn't be as hopeles and Lela had alluded. She was alive, after all. Most humans captured so young would have died faced with such steady abuse. If she was alive, then she could recover. She already beat the odds, now she just had to do it again.
His omni-tool beeped and he silenced it hastily. It was Delanus. Still no luck finding an Annika in the missing persons database. Maybe, if she could remember a last name, a home world, a parent, something, they could find her. Maybe she had family. It was unlikely, if she had been enslaved her family was likely dead or had suffered the same fate, but it was a possibility. He thought about how good it would be to see her reunited with people who loved her.
A small sound distracted him from his thoughts. Annika was awake. She was looking over her arm at the television, which had, at some point, switched to showing a blasto movie. It took him a moment to realize that the sound she had made was amusement. He smiled at her, "you're awake."
Her expression vanished as she studied him. He hadn't noticed before how green her eyes were, it matched her red hair well. Her eyes widened suddenly and she started to move, then gripped her ribs and clenched her teeth. Garrus held out his hands, plams face down, "hey, you don't have to move. Just, relax."
Annika touched the back of her neck and brushed her bandage gingerly.
"Are you hungry? If you eat, I can give you something for the pain."
She nodded, her eyes still watching him warily. He prepared a bowl of soup according to Lela's instructions wondering what he could do to show her he didn't intend to harm her. Garrus held out the bowl. She didn't respond, but accepted the bowl without a word.
She must have been starving, but she ate slowly, savoring the food. It was the way someone who was used to not eating ate. Every bite made to last as long as possible. Garrus let her have her space again until she was finished.
"I need to look at your neck, the bandages need changed."
He approached her again. She thrust her head back and to the side, baring her jugular. It was a turian gesture representing both surrender and a plea for mercy. He felt vaguely nausous. "I won't hurt you," how many times would he have to say that? Did she really view him as no different from the krogan or any of her other owners?
How many of the events of the past few hours had she really understood? It would have been horrifying to have so many doctors working on her and not understand. She complied with his requests, turning and bending her neck so he could see the wound, but she was tense.
He talked to her as he worked at the bandage. "Look, I know this has got to be scary for you, but you need to understand: no one is going to hurt you. You aren't a slave anymore." He peeled the old gauze away and replaced it, "the only thinkg you need to do right now is eat, and gain weight, and get healthy." He replaced the bandage, "do you understand?"
There was a long pause where she didn't respond. He sighed and touched the unbandaged side of her neck, resting his hand against it. It was possible that it was his imagaination, but it seemed as if she leaned into the touch slightly. He rubbed a thumb across the back of her neck and she sighed, then shook her head slowly from side to side. His heart sank.
"Nothing ever changes," she said in monotone, it was almost so quiet he couldn't hear it.
He removed his hand. "It's getting late, you should rest, Annika." He handed her one of the little white pain pills and watched her swallow it. Her eyes held that same emotionless look they had in them the first time he saw her. Then a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
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