Romancing the Pain - Part 15
Title: Romancing the Pain
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pepa/Silvia
Summary: Post episode 104 as well as my last fic, Come Back to Me. It’s basically its sequel; the events that occur after Silvia was released from the hospital.
A/N: I kinda hit writer’s block halfway writing this but being forced to analyze The King and I (1956), musical for an assignment revitalized my muse. More like, it was just another excuse for my academic_muse to procrastinate on the assignment. *rolls eyes* But, yay! for you guys I suppose; you get this chapter a day or two earlier. Happy reading.
ROMANCING THE PAIN - Part 15
Pepa moaned as her mind slowly pushed her body towards consciousness. She gritted her teeth at the insurmountable amount of pain that exploded through her head. It felt like a hive of bees took refuge inside her skull, simultaneously buzzing against and stinging the soft tissue of her brain. The brunette fought of a wave of nausea and attempted to reach up a hand to press onto her forehead, hoping to find relief from her hangover. But she couldn’t. Pepa’s eyes suddenly snapped open and she moaned again, screwing her eyes firmly shut as even the dim light above her pierced her eyes with all the intensity of looking directly at the midday sun. She bit down harshly on her bottom lip, the brightness of light, dim as it were, adding to the aggravation in her head.
Savoring the darkness her closed eyes provided her, Pepa slowly tried to get her bearings. She finally realized that her hands were tied behind her. She twisted her wrists; it was futile. They were tied so tight that the rough rope was biting painfully into her skin, no doubt causing scratches and grazes already. She acknowledged that her booted feet were also tied to either leg of the chair.
‘What the hell is going on?’, Pepa wondered. She flinched as that thought caused a jagged bolt of pain to streak recklessly across the inside of her skull; apparently even thinking was not an option. However, the taller woman knew she had no choice. She forced herself to recollect the memories of the night before. She remembered being in a bar, a bar somewhere in the outskirts of San Antonio? She couldn’t recall. Pepa forced her mind to work; she bit down another wave of nausea as her brain protested. Then it hit her: she was walking to her car when someone jumped her from behind!
‘Well that explains the double headache,’ Pepa thought sarcastically. She knew she had been drinking a lot the past few weeks but she was not so much of a pushover that she would garner a hangover of this magnitude the next day. No. No, this was the work of that damned chloroform soaked cloth that someone had placed over her nose and mouth. ‘When I get my hands on that slimy son of a bitch who jumped me…’
Pepa carefully peeled back an eyelid, slowly allowing her vision and her agitated head to accommodate the feeble light shining from above her. She winced slightly as it still proved to be too bright for her liking but persevered, opening one eye fully before reinstating her actions on her next eye. That done, Pepa blinked harshly. She seemed to be in some empty room; it looked like a storage room in a warehouse. There were no windows, no furniture save for the chair Pepa was tied to. And a single light dangled from a cracked ceiling. The air was musty; Pepa concluded that the room had not been used for a while.
The brunette wanted to kick herself. ‘Trust me to get so drunk off my ass that I get jumped on so easily in the dark,’ Pepa berated herself. She sighed and looked around her surroundings, coming to no plausible conclusion. Just what the hell was going on here?
**************
Don Lorenzo fought to catch up to his daughter who, for her hungover state, walked at an extremely fast pace to her lab. The commissioner almost barreled into Silvia’s back as she paused to open the door, throwing it open violently and storming into the lab, her entire body screaming out her agitated state. He paused by the doorway, leaning against it to catch his breath.
“Close the door, por favor, papa,” Silvia snapped. She didn’t wait to see her father carry out her instructions as she marched over to the table and yanked up a brown envelope lying silently on the surface. Silvia gripped it tightly for a minute, a part of her not wanting to open it. Not wanting to be smacked in the face with the reality that was contained in that simple looking envelope. The redhead felt like Pandora; opening the envelope meant unleashing a world of trouble.
Silvia almost jumped out of her skin when Don Lorenzo placed a placating hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, face pale, eyes blood-shot and bordered by dark shadows that hung under her eyes. The commissioner brushed a few damp strands of wavy red hair from Silvia’s cheek and offered his youngest a comforting look he knew would have no effect.
Silvia bit her lip, hands beginning to shake as she held the envelope, petrified at opening it. When her father had told her the news, she had outright fainted into his arms and had awoken minutes later on her couch, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut. She had hoped that it was all some sick joke but the look in her father’s eyes as he hovered worriedly above her and her instincts, which was suddenly as loud as a piercing siren, had confirmed all of Silvia’s worse fears. She had pushed off the couch and walked purposefully to the bathroom, taken the coldest and shortest most sobering shower of her life, threw on a simple pair of jeans and a shirt and had harshly instructed her father to take her to the precinct, NOW.
So now here they were. Silvia was about to confront what was now her worst nightmare. She tensed as she hooked a finger under the envelope flap, flicking it open. The clock seemed to get louder with each tick and each tock as Silvia slid her hand in slowly, fingers fanning out to touch the one piece of evidence she knew would be in there. Pads of her fingers making contact, they curled and latched onto the item, allowing the muscles of Silvia’s arm to flex and ripple as she drew her hand back out.
Silvia’s trepidation and fear mounted as she extracted the photograph from the envelope, growing so great that the air prickled. The photo now in clear view, Silvia let the envelope fall; it fluttered harmlessly to the ground like a leaf dropping from the tree. Silvia paid it no heed. She simply stared at the photograph, tears pooling in her eyes.
It was black and white photo. Of Pepa. Pepa tied to a chair in what looked like a storage room of a warehouse. Pepa was unconsciousness; her head slumped forward lifelessly. Her hands were tied behind her back, legs to either leg of the chair. Silvia’s hand clenched involuntarily, crinkling the edge of the photo. Her other hand reached up to cup her mouth, veiling the ‘O’ of horror her lips had formed.
Don Lorenzo moved closer to his youngest, well aware that Silvia could faint again. He placed a firm grip back onto her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “We will get her back, hija. I promise you.”
Silvia swallowed a sob and stared hard at the photo, memorizing every detail of her wife. Pepa looked thin, thinner than normal. Her entire posture spoke of a great grief, even in her unconscious state. Silvia pushed down the bile that bubbled up in the back of her throat. She dropped her hand from her mouth and allowed its fingers to trace Pepa’s image. “Pepa...” The brunette’s name was whispered so softly that Don Lorenzo almost didn’t hear it.
The commissioner wondered if he should show Silvia the next piece of evidence. He studied his daughter’s face, watching how shock colored her cheeks; how her vibrant chocolate colored eyes had dulled to empty orbs. She looked for the world, as if someone had taken her light from her. It wasn’t a far-fetched notion. For Silvia, Pepa was her light. He gently maneuvered a hand down to tug the photo still clutched firmly in Silvia’s hand.
“Silvia. Silvia turn the photo around,” he murmured softly. His body had already tensed, waiting for Silvia’s reaction. He knew it wasn’t going to be good.
Silvia did as instructed, her fear so overwhelming that she was getting light-headed and her legs were quivering so much that she wasn’t sure if they were going to hold her weight. She suppressed a cry as the back of the photo revealed itself and the words written on it. Silvia’s entire body trembled and she leaned into her father, her sobs erupting out of her throat in full force. She dropped the photo onto the desk and turned to bury her head in her father’s shoulder.
Don Lorenzo wound his arms around his daughter tightly and repeatedly dropped kisses onto her hair. His own eyes welled with tears as he re-read the words that had sent his world spiraling out of control:
‘Do you know what we do with sheep? We SHEAR them.’
***********
Pepa jerked awake as the door to the room flung itself open. She struggled against her restraints despite the fact that her movements were going to do her more harm than good. She felt the blood drain from her face as two men entered; their faces a blank mask save for the demented smiles that cut across their faces. Pepa’s tied hands formed fists in pure reaction as they moved in on her. As the first punch descended onto her stomach, Pepa’s only thought through the sudden haze of pain, was of her wife.
‘Silvia. Silvia, please be safe. Please.’