Koehk'dhat. (Helen, Nero,?)

[mirror_brightly]

Hunger and sleep were strange in combination, did strange things to the mind. It was cold, but not cold enough. Too weak to shut them out, to still the fragments of thought that danced across his skull. His eyes slipped closed, drifted as his shoulder slid against the wall. The guards shuffled, moved in soft air behind the shining grey of the

Comments

[first_noel]

The guards didn't seem happy, exactly, to see her back in the brig again. But they did perk up a bit when she appeared: the interest of people ready for a show.

"Extra batshit today," one of them offered, as he checked her access codes and let her through. "Talking to himself."

Helen raised her eyebrows and smiled politely, but said nothing. She walked down to the end of the corridor, and looked into the cell.

"Hello, Nero," she said. "I've brought you something."

She knew the rules of the game here. She'd agreed to bring his picture back, or at least try; he'd agreed to cooperate if she did so. Trying to get him to speak to her before handing it over would be counter to that agreement - and probably pointless. Telling him that she'd give it back after he spoke with her might work - but it would be blackmail. Helen was interested in building trust, not resentment.

She pulled the picture from her bag, and held it up in front of the forcefield for him to see.

[mirror_brightly]

He almost didn't look. Couldn't risk opening his eyes again, on top of themselves. But, eventually, he pulled his head from Naele's knees, tilted to see through her hair. The black parted and he stared, saw the curl of grey and gold and the worn edge of a face held a field away in hevam fingers.

His limbs went slack as he stared at her, smiling at him from something better than his memory. The best fragment.

He drew a slow breath and moved out of himself.

"Return it."

[first_noel]

She nodded her agreement. It wasn't hers to keep, even to bargain with, to try and draw a promise from him first.

"If we lower the field to return it, can we trust you not to hurt us, or try to escape?"

[mirror_brightly]

His eyes never shifted from the capture, though he was silent for several seconds. It had never left him, not through the ice of the tunnels or the crispness of time. It was too far away, too easy to harm.

It was the last real piece left.

"Yes."