Turn & Turn Again - Chapter Two: hurting in a different way
Chapter Two: hurting in a different way
"This house aches, I whistle its tune
After so much noise, freedom is silence
Half the house is missing
Taken half of me with it
I had imagined this
Hurting in a different way
Hurting in a different way
Hurting in a different way."
- “House” by Marillion
Nate rolled out of his bed and shivered when the blankets slipped from his body. It was another cold morning, and he found himself longing for a hot shower. He would make do with lukewarm water, though.
As he staggered into the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and paused. He had yet to get used to the disguise he had adopted. He kept his curls close-cropped to his head now, and he had dyed them black; he was also growing a beard and mustache, and he kept those dyed as well. Anyone who looked closely enough might still recognize him, especially since the hair job was done so badly. Sophie would be horrified by it, and he almost smiled at the idea.
He reflexively touched his front shirt pocket at the thought of her, but he moved into the tiny bathroom. He turned on the water faucet in the shower and waited as the water went from freezing cold to a tepid temperature. Apparently it was too cold outside for the water to get any warmer.
His shower didn’t take long, maybe five minutes at the most. He got dressed before moving back into his bedroom. He had a small hotplate, but he didn’t have any food at the moment, so it looked like he would be missing out on breakfast. At least he wasn’t really hungry.
He ran a comb through his hair and pulled on his jacket as he left the apartment. He was currently in Marseilles, and according to his calendar, he had been there for the past twenty days. Time tended to run together now that he was by himself, and he didn’t associate with anyone out of the general paranoia of worrying that every passerby was a potential threat. There were only three people he had any contact with at all, and that was sporadic at best; they also only agreed to help him out because he was paying them a lot of money. He had gotten Hardison to teach him how to steal money from ATMs before the team split up, and that was how he managed to get by.
He pulled out a map and settled onto a bench. He needed to decide on a new destination. Marseilles was a great place for him to disappear, but he could only stay stationary for so long before nervousness got the best of him. Maybe a different country would be a good place to go. His eyes lingered on Germany; it would be cold, but he knew enough of the language to blend in.
He folded the map up and headed for a small café that sold amazing croissants. He pulled out his wallet, and his mind touched on the picture of him and Sophie he kept folded up in a small pocket of it. He was careful to fold the picture around Sophie so there wouldn’t be any creases in her image. It was the only picture he had kept of her; he had burned the rest when he left the house they had been sharing in Italy. A lot of details had already faded, but he was determined to remember her face. It was something that made all of this a little easier.
He handed over his money and left the café; it wasn’t until he was halfway down the street that he realized it had been a long time since he had looked anyone in the eye.
***************
Sophie poked at the mystery meat on her plate and grimaced at the solidifying brown gravy that had been poured on top of it. It was a less than inspiring lunch, but she was the one to blame for letting it get cold. She cut off a small piece and put it into her mouth, swallowing it down immediately.
As she inspected her portion of mushy carrots and peas, she felt someone slip past her table; she probed along the rim of her plate and smiled when her fingers landed on a folded up slip of toilet paper.
She pulled the paper apart under the table and read the messy scrawl. The words were smudged a little, but she could make out the message.
You should go talk to her.
-2
She knew the drop had been made by Parker, but the message was from Eliot. Her eyes flickered over to where Maggie sat alone, staring at her untouched food. Everyone in the facility had been buzzing about the new addition, and Sophie knew that she and the others were being watched to see if they would make contact with Maggie.
She slipped the paper into her pocket so she could flush it when they got a bathroom break. They had managed to work out a system by stealing scraps of toilet paper from the bathroom and nubs of charcoal pencils from their mandatory art class. It was like being stuck in a nursing home, complete with constantly being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses.
But, they managed to communicate that way. Parker picked all of their pockets whenever she wandered by; if she got a message for someone else, she would drop it to them. Hardison was allowed to carry messages, but he wasn’t good enough to be able to stay under the radar. Eliot could pick their pockets, but he never did drops. Sophie and Parker were the only ones who did both, and Sophie normally left it to Parker since the girl liked it so much.
Parker rifled through Hardison’s pockets the most, though, and Sophie knew he always left a small message there for her. It was probably dangerous, but Parker was starting to turn into an almost-feral creature, so anything to keep her on this side of sanity was worth the risk.
Sophie turned her consideration back to Maggie; she could ignore Eliot’s suggestion, but she was lonely. Besides, they needed information about what Maggie was doing there and what had happened to her.
She picked up her plate and walked purposefully towards Maggie’s table; she noticed that a couple of the guards on the fringes of the room were tracking her, but they didn’t move any closer. She didn’t mind if they decided to eavesdrop; she would still prefer that they stayed where they were.
She sat down beside Maggie and carefully arranged her silverware and glass.
“I’m surprised to see you here.”
Maggie looked up at her then at the guards. “I’ve been here for awhile. They were keeping me somewhere…else.”
Sophie speared a piece of carrot on the prongs of her fork and watched it slide off. “Do you know why you were moved?”
“Who wants to know?”
“We do.”
“I don’t know. It’s about you, though.”
“Me?”
“You as a collective.”
Sophie nodded. “Oh. Have you talked to the doctor yet?”
“Yes. He asked a lot of questions about Nate.” Sophie raised an eyebrow, and Maggie sighed. “I answered them, but he won’t get anything useful out of them.”
“So you’ve figured out what they’re trying to do.”
“It wasn’t hard. For all their secrets, they’re pretty transparent.”
Sophie nudged Maggie’s hand in the direction of her unused fork. “You need to eat. They’ll force you, one way or another.”
Maggie closed her fingers around the utensil and started cutting her meat into small pieces. “I take it that you found out the hard way?”
“We all did. And found better ways to rebel.”
“Can I be of any help?”
“I don’t know.” Sophie pursed her lips and glanced quickly at the guards edging closer to them. “We don’t know why they have you here or what they want from you. It’s too dangerous to risk that they might think of you as unnecessary.”
“You’re worried they might decide to just kill me.”
Maggie’s matter-of-fact tone bothered her, but Sophie decided to eat a few of her boiled potatoes. She noticed Maggie eating her way steadily through her food; she caught Eliot looking in her direction and subtly shook her head.
“Sophie, you’re assuming that’s the worst thing they can do to me.”
***************
Eliot hated art time. He tended to hate any structure outside of his control, really. But, it was useful for gathering supplies, so he didn’t cause any trouble. On purpose, that is. He couldn’t be held responsible for punching out a guard who decided it was a good idea to grope Sophie’s ass.
He already had a charcoal pencil that would last the next couple of weeks, so he settled down with some paints and a blank piece of paper. Parker was off in the corner with a notepad and a pencil, scrawling page after page of drawings; Hardison always sat on his own with coloring pages and crayons, while Sophie wrote poems. Maggie floated around the room, mostly cozying up to Sophie, but she would drift off on her own at times.
Today, he felt her sit down beside him, and he instinctively angled his shoulders away from her before relaxing; she moved into his personal space, her hair falling against his cheek.
“What is that supposed to be?”
He could hear the suppressed laughter in her voice and let a small smile creep onto his face. “A tree. And a dog.”
“I see two very indistinct shapes.” She dropped a paper into his lap. “That’s what art is supposed to look like.”
“I thought art is in the eye of the beholder?”
“And that’s still true.”
He looked down at her paper and bit back a laugh at the drawing she had given him; she had drawn an impressive likeness of him, but it was slightly exaggerated, including the large scowl on his face.
“It’s very good.” He handed it back to her. “So you only came over here to rub your drawing in my face?”
“I just wanted to see you, if only for a moment,” she murmured, moving in too close again, her hand drifting across his wrist. “Sophie’s worried.”
“We all are.”
“More than normal. She had a visit with the doctors yesterday.”
Eliot didn’t miss her use of the plural and grimaced. “And? Anything more than the usual tests?”
“There’s a procedure they’re going to do this weekend. To all of you.”
“What?”
“If I had specifics, I would tell you.” She glanced around nervously. “I need to move on. They get suspicious if I talk to any of you too long.”
“Take care of yourself, Maggie.”
“I try.”
She left, and he pooled some more paint on his paper, spreading it around and creating a dark blob.
***************
Sterling didn’t even look up when his secretary stepped into his office. “Are they here again?”
“Yes, sir. I tried to tell them that you were busy, but they insisted on seeing you.”
“Well, send them in.” As she started to leave, he said, “Oh, and, Linda, go ahead and take the rest of the day off.”
“Do you not need me anymore today, sir?” Linda asked even as she was halfway out the door.
“That’s right.” He waved his hand and smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
She nodded and left; he tossed the file he had been examining into a drawer and leaned back in his chair as Erik Mynas walked into the room.
“I thought I told you I would shoot you if you came back, Erik,” Sterling said, ignoring Erik’s held out hand and eyeing the two men flanking him. “I see you brought two bodyguards as well. How…charming.”
“I don’t see a gun,” Erik responded. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Besides, you have yet to cooperate, so my business brings me back here.”
“I have nothing to tell you.” Sterling narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “I haven’t heard anything from Nathan Ford, and I don’t know where he is.”
“I think you’re lying to me.”
“Think all you want. You don’t know a damn thing.”
Erik sighed and shook his head. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but there’s nothing more I can do. You will cooperate with us, or we might find a new home for your daughter.”
“I’ll kill you first,” Sterling growled.
“I’d like to see you try.” Erik gave him a twisted smile. “Give us what we need, or we’ll take Olivia into custody.”
Sterling’s eyes flicked to his closed desk drawers; he stood up and leaned over the desk toward Erik. “Get out of my office.”
“Think about it, Jim. You’re playing with powerful people here.”
As he walked out the door, Erik whistled a few notes, his bodyguards falling in line behind him. Sterling waited until they left to sink back into his chair. His hands were trembling. He dialed a number from muscle memory on his phone and waited for the other person to pick up.
“This is Sterling. You owe me a favor, and I’m calling it in now.”
***************
Parker smoothed her fingers along the wall, wincing a little at the pressure. It turned out that getting rid of fingerprints was still painful even when it was done with a laser instead of a match.
She had tried once with a box of matches when she was fourteen; Archie had been furious when he had caught her even though she hadn’t gotten all that far into it, really only giving her thumb a superficial burn. After that, Archie made sure he emphasized that leaving fingerprints on a safe or a wall wasn’t such a big deal if no one knew how she got in or out. Of course, the best thieves never left a trace, and she was the best.
So, she didn’t mind about losing her fingerprints, not really. After all, it only gave her an edge. Not that she needed it. Parker was never caught, not by anyone.
The one exception was the team that brought her here, and that was because she was protecting Eliot since he couldn’t protect her. He had still been nursing three broken ribs from the group that had stolen Hardison from them, and she had done her best with her taser.
Still, this wasn’t so bad. Her team was here, and she got to climb on things, even if was only during certain times of the day. She missed her rigs, though, and stealing. It had been a long time since she had held money in her hands or counted it or even smelled the paper.
Her fingers slipped instinctively into her pocket and brushed against the last note she had pulled from Hardison’s pocket. It wasn’t much, just a math equation, something to play with, like picking a lock. She sometimes liked it better than a sentence about pretzels; it felt like this meant more in some way, even though that wasn’t exactly true.
Paradoxes were nothing new for her, and she kind of liked collecting them anyway.
She braided a section of her hair, wishing she could do it with Maggie’s hair instead. Maggie always smelled nice, and she smiled, but Parker wasn’t really allowed to get near her. There were secrets now because they were being watched. She didn’t understand how spending time with Maggie would help the evil people find Nate, but she knew she should listen to Sophie about things like this.
It wasn’t fair, and she got over it with a shrug and a backflip in the empty hallway.
Guards didn’t follow them everywhere because there were cameras that tracked their every move. She wandered around on her own because it was important to know where there were blind spots so she could hide. She had been pacing the hallway for the past hour, observing the movement of the cameras and trying to find a large enough space outside of their radius.
She grinned because it looked like she might have discovered one right outside a small closet. She knelt on the floor and pulled out the two bobby pins she had managed to keep for herself, slipping them into the lock and fiddling with the mechanisms. It wasn’t the same as cracking into a Glen Reader, but it would do; her time was off by a whole ten seconds since she hadn’t picked any lock in so long, but it was still under twenty seconds so she let it slide. Sometimes records mattered less than just getting the job done.
She took two quick steps inside and pulled the door shut, groping along the wall to get her bearings. Her fingers stumbled across the light switch and she moved away from it. The last time she had tried this, turning on the light had set off three different alarms. What she needed to know now was if she had triggered any alarms just by getting into the closet.
While she waited to see if any guards would come after her, she explored the shelves behind her, looking for anything useful. She came up with some cleaning chemicals and, even better, tools; her mouth formed a satisfied smile, and the small pull on her lips felt strange.
It looked like she had made it in without detection. So, the next day, she pulled Sophie in there.
“Parker, what the hell are you doing?”
“Shh, people will hear you!” Parker noticed Sophie searching for the light switch and grabbed her hand. “Stop it. Alarms will go off.”
“So you just want to sit here in the dark. With me.” Sophie sighed and leaned against the wall. “What am I doing here?”
“It’s a secret place. So we can talk. I thought that would be better than the notes thing.”
“Maybe. Are you sure this is in a blind spot?”
“I spent an hour or longer tracking all the cameras on this hall, and there’s not one in here.”
“Okay.” Sophie started looking around, her eyes adjusting the darkness, and she smiled. “Good job, Parker. I’ve missed you.”
Parker shrugged and patted her shoulder. “That’s nice. Do your fingers still hurt?”
“A little. It’s mostly just annoying more than anything else. Have the doctors talked to you about doing anything else?”
“They make me climb on things for them once a week. I don’t know what they want. Do you?”
“I can only guess.”
“And?”
“Don’t worry about it, Parker.” Sophie ran her fingers through her hair and frowned for a moment. “How long have we been here?”
“In the closet?”
“In the facility.”
Parker chewed on her bottom lip as she counted through the days. “Seven months and fifteen days.”
“It feels like longer.”
“Is Nate ever going to come for us?”
“I don’t know, Parker.”
“Do you think he’s forgotten about us?”
“If he’s smart, he will.”
Parker smiled a little. “Well, we both know what that means.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Sophie tilted her head to the side, her lips turning up at the corners. “You should bring Hardison in here. I think he would like to talk to you.”
Parker wanted to stay longer, curl into Sophie’s side and braid her hair and talk about pretzels and how being here felt suffocating, but something stopped her. There was too much distance and wrongness, and she couldn’t remember how to form the right words or even reach out to touch Sophie.
So she sat alone in the dark after Sophie left.
***************
Maggie preferred the openness of the art room. It was one of the few places where it felt like being outside again, in a way, at least. And, being able to draw was a nice change from the therapy sessions and the isolation of wandering around with no direction.
She drew her pencil across the paper, filling in the contours of Sophie’s cheeks and jaw. Sophie had lost weight, but she was still beautiful and Maggie liked to sketch her. She shaded in the soft curls and the long lashes and the dark eyes that were more closed off than ever.
Joseph thought Maggie was in love with Sophie since she had so many drawings of the woman; Maggie just thought Sophie made a good subject for art, like Parker in motion or Eliot when he was moving through the forms of whatever fighting technique he was practicing or Hardison gazing across the room at Parker. And, she didn’t mind encouraging Joseph’s train of thought, especially since he seemed so taken with the idea.
“I like that one.”
Sophie’s murmur caught her off guard, but Maggie laughed and glanced over her shoulder at Sophie. “Narcissistic much?”
“Not at all.” Sophie settled into the other chair at the table, stretching her long legs and smiling. “I just appreciate talent when I see it.”
“What plans are in your future?”
“Not many, unfortunately. What about you?”
“I was thinking about picking flowers in the garden.”
“For someone special?”
Maggie smirked. “Hoping I might give you some?”
“Well, according to the guards, we have an epic love affair in the works.” Sophie leaned across the table and pushed some of Maggie’s hair out of her face. “Who am I to argue?”
“Why?”
“Because lying is what I know how to do, and if people pay more attention to the lie than anything else, you’ve earned that much more control.”
Sophie’s voice was measured and quiet and filled Maggie with warmth; turning her cheek into Sophie’s palm, Maggie gave her a small smile.
“Good girl,” Sophie said softly.
Then she moved closer and brushed her lips against Maggie’s. Maggie started at the sudden contact then kissed back, the pressure soft and comforting. Maggie was the one who pulled back first, pressing her lips to the corner of Sophie’s mouth and leaving the table.
She didn’t miss the knowing looks passed between the guards as she walked out of the room, and she ignored them because it was all only a game anyway. She still couldn’t keep from thinking about how she wished the kiss was from someone else. A different sort of savior.
***************
“Girl, what exactly are we doing here?”
Hardison was happy to be able to talk to Parker; no, ecstatic would be more like it. During the time they had been on the run with Eliot, their relationship had changed, and he knew what her lips tasted like, the little sounds she made when his mouth hit that place on her collarbone, and there had been nothing more frustrating than seeing her and not being able to touch her.
Now, he didn’t know what to do. He started to reach out to her, and she shied away before forcing herself to stay still so his hand could land on her arm.
“I found it last week. Sophie said I should bring you here.”
“What for?”
“To talk?” Parker drew her eyebrows together and crossed her arms over her chest. “I like the math problems the best.”
“Better than the poetry?”
She snorted, and he grinned; he had figured she wouldn’t really appreciate the poetry, but he liked trying different things with her. He never knew what might catch her fancy.
“We don’t have to talk. We can just sit here.”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know? Whatever you want, Parker. I’m happy just being here with you.”
Her face softened at that, and he really wished they could turn on the light because the shadows only showed so much. She moved suddenly into his space, backing him up against the wall and draping her arms over his shoulders in an awkward movement.
“What you doing?”
“I want…to feel something.” Her breath drifted against his lips as she leaned closer. “Alec, I don’t remember, and I want to.”
“What don’t you remember?” He placed trembling hands on her waist and resisted the urge to pull her into him.
She traced her fingers along his forehead, down the sides of his face, across his cheeks. “What it’s like to be safe. Happy.”
Rage flashed behind his vision for a moment, and he pushed it back because there was nothing he could do and he hated it. She tilted her chin up and pressed her mouth against his; his fingers tightened reflexively around her then relaxed as he kissed her.
She still tasted like fortune cookies and chocolate. Parker made a sound in the back of her throat that might have been a whimper when he grazed her bottom lip with his teeth, his tongue immediately soothing the sting. It was too soon when she slipped out of his grasp, the pressure of her mouth suddenly gone and the chill of the air conditioning a shock.
He wanted to pull her back to him, but the moment was gone and her face was blank again. He wanted to curse and hit something and steal her away; he just stood still while she left the closet.
Chapter One - Chapter Two* - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine
Masterpost