| "In a Dark Glass" | ||
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The silence afterwards was so loud that it penetrated outwards in ever increasing circles like a ripple of wind on the water. Nothing had prepared
her
for this moment in time and she watched detached as the events unfolded like a house of cards, the expression on Madeline's face; the
disbelief followed by a
stony gaze that admitted defeat before her body seemed to implode, collapsing inwardly and then as it (she) fell into a heap on the floor it looked like nothing more than a discarded heap of waste. Her hand slowly fell to her side, and nerveless fingers let the gun slide out, though she didn't hear it fall to the floor. She could see only the still figure lying on the floor in front of her, those dark brown eyes dulled now by death's cold touch, but still open and staring at her as though accusing her with a look that despised her for her actions. A hand descended on her shoulder, it lay as though an anvil weighted it, the pressure increased pushing her downwards until finally her knees buckled and she fell forward, no more than inches from her victim. Those hands now gently took hers and holding them firmly they were pulled behind her back, secured with restraints that held her captive; she didn't fight them. Their words rushed by her like the wind, only a dull roaring could be heard, blocking out the voices and the sounds of that room. She bowed her head acknowledging her fate, which had been waiting for her to fulfil her destiny, now it was done. She had nothing left within her; she was simply an empty shell, hollow and brittle. So deep was her introspection that she neither heard nor recognised the people surrounding her, shadows flitted at the corners of her sight, but her focus was deep within. Time had stopped for her with the same bullet that had ended Madeline's reign of terror and she knew that the clock wouldn't be started again. Someone, she didn't see who, pulled her to her feet and pushed her in front of them down a series of endless grey corridors and into a van. She didn't hear any instructions, her mind was busy, replaying the scenes leading up to her pulling the trigger, sending the bullet towards its mark; nothing could have stopped it once the decision had been made, it had been too late for both of them. More hands were on her now, rougher than before. She was pulled to her feet and out into familiar scenes; Section 1, van access. The recognition of the familiar was a last conscious sense of belonging. She had never really left; Section was her birthright, it would be her final resting place; it was fitting that they had brought her back here. Her destination was a holding cell. The hands that had brought her to this place now undid the restraints and then retreated, the door closing behind them. She stood as she had stopped, just existing in the suspension of time. The door opening caused a draft and involuntarily she shivered. She was still where she had been left, even though hours had passed her by. She was even curious as to who it was or what it was that had entered her domain, but it was no surprise to see Michael and Joshua move to stand in front of her though she was frozen like an ice statue. Their voices didn't penetrate the ice that engulfed her and it took a slap from Michael's hand to get her attention on him; her left cheek where his hand had connected was burning scarlet. She made no move to defend herself, passively waiting for them to leave her alone once more, to replay the scenes that consumed her, making her withdraw from life. They stood and looked at her for a long while, before a nudge from Joshua to Michael and they were gone; leaving her behind, waiting, always waiting. **** "Her eyes, they were empty, lifeless. Did you see?" Joshua couldn't hide the concern from his voice. "I did." Michael acknowledged, "after everything that has happened�." "What will she do?" Joshua interrupted him, and indicated the still figure on the monitor. "It's hard to say," Michael shrugged, "she has withdrawn into herself. It's not the first time, and each time it has taken longer for her to come back." He turned to look at Joshua, "Is this what you expected?" Joshua stared at him, "No. You told me she had the strength," he turned back to look at the monitor, "I never thought this would be the outcome." "It was always going to be a risk, but under the circumstances there was no better way," Michael's voice was quiet. "Can you keep her safe and out of sight?" Joshua watched the motionless figure on the screen, his feelings for her muted by the need to cover up their actions. "For how long?" Michael turned to face him. Joshua turned to look at him, impatience staring out of his eyes, "For as long as it needs to be. Our best chance of protecting her is to keep her locked up, until after the council sits." "That won't be a problem, as long as she stays here I can hide her," Michael stared back at the tall man, "Is it worth trying to save her?" Joshua put a hand on the monitor screen; she had stood in the same position for hours. He had no idea of what made her so strong, but he could not let her sacrifice be in vain, not when she had given them so much. A slow nod, "To answer your question, Yes she is worth saving," he turned to Michael, "do what you can and then more, but bring her back from wherever she is. She deserves nothing less." Michael inclined his head, "Of course." **** She felt hands touching her, pulling at her clothes. They or rather he persisted until she was down to her briefs and vest. She had done nothing to stop them, but she had not helped either; caring little about comfort. New dry, warm clothes were pulled onto her still frame, though it did not make a difference, inside she was ice cold. He put a blanket around her shoulders and made her sit on the bed, taken her hands in his and rubbing them together. Despite her resistance, he was able to erode her defences. His kindness doing the task better than violence, she felt the iciness that had enclosed her since the moment she had killed her creator start to thaw. "What have I done?" her voice was less than a husky whisper and it was as much for her as it was for him. "Hush," he murmured, "look at me," She tried, but it was as though she couldn't control her own body. Nothing seemed to work for her, despite her efforts to move, she felt as though she were like a piece of marble. Another figure entered, it leant down in front of her, taking a hand in his. She could sense it was Dr Gideon, but his words were lost, although she could see his lips moving. He put down a tray on the bed, and took the cover off to reveal a cannula, and though she tried to pull her hand away it lay like a limp glove. She watched flatly, as he fitted it to a vein on the back of her hand, was this the way they had chosen for her? A lethal injection rather than a bullet?. She realised then, that it didn't matter, any of it. Death would be a welcome release, she would be able to stop fighting, the void that awaited her was better than the life she left behind; she welcomed the blackness, wordlessly urging the doctor onwards, accepting her destiny. She watched silently, as Dr Gideon taped the cannula in place and fitted a syringe to the orifice. He didn't look at her before he pushed the plunger, as though he felt ashamed she wondered as she felt the first effects of the drugs; her head swam, making her giddy and glad that Michael was holding her. Moments later the darkness engulfed her, taking her down into the whirlpool of death. **** Michael held the still, limp figure in his arms, "How long can you keep her asleep?" Dr Gideon shrugged, "Not long." Michael looked down at the sleeping figure, "Could you manage three/four days?" Gideon shook his head, "That's a bad idea Michael; her system might not tolerate it." "Do it anyway, if the hearing ends sooner, you can wake her up." His voice was quiet, but he was not going to tolerate and argument now. Abruptly, he changed the subject, "Tell me something. Why sedate her rather than just keep her locked up?" Gideon, paused before he replied, "When she has done this before, she has responded badly to stimuli, I want her brain activity to slow down without compromising the essential functions." Michael lay her down on the bed, lifting her feet and placed her on her side. "Will it help?" Dr Gideon took observations, "Who knows for sure?" Michael nodded, and then spoke softly, "If things go against her, it would be kinder for her not to wake up." Gideon stared at him, "Kinder for who?" his voice was bitter Michael stared at him coldly, "For everyone." A gurney was brought in from Medical, between them, they lifted her onto it and then wheeled her down the corridor into resus� hooking her up to monitors, and a drip. With a second line attached to a pump which would keep her sedated, she lay white and colourless under the harsh overhead lights. Michael stood looking down at the unconscious woman on the gurney, shaking his head; he wondered how she had managed to survive in Section. Despite his initial assessment of her when she had been brought in, he had only given her a 20% pos. She had proved him wrong, learning fast, and fighting dirty. She had narrowly missed being cancelled on at least two occasions that he knew of and had survived the impossible odds of the abeyance pool and ultimately had brought the old regime down. She was strong, stronger than any of them. He admitted that, it was what he admired about her, yet at times he could see her vulnerability and knew that underneath the tough exterior was a person with deep feelings, something that Section never permitted. If they could only guarantee her future, she would be an asset to Section and Oversight, but would Centre see it that way? Return |
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