| "Just a Little" | |||
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Eric's Place May 24, 2008 1745 hours Paige opened her eyes to the dark, curious ones of Eric. The one that had called her name a few times and braved a gentle nudge of her shoulder. And he was damn lucky he was gentle because if she had been any more not-asleep and had just a little more strength, she might have sent her cast into his head. Yeah, lucky for him she could hardly move. Better yet, she thought about it for another moment, it was probably actually lucky for her. "We here?" she croaked out, her throat dry, her neck with an uncomfortable kink in it (served her right for sleeping sitting up). He nodded, opening the door behind her and grabbing her bags. "No, it's alright," she began to protest forgetting the seat belt was still locked into place and she succeeded only in straining her neck further. "I have them," he said quietly shouldering the bags. There was something about that look in his eyes that made her pause. Or maybe it was just her own impending guiltiness deciding to show its ugly face sooner rather than later. Or maybe she was just exhausted and the brief one hour or so sleep only worsened her condition rather than having made it better. She pushed these thoughts aside and undid her binds and stepped gingerly from the truck. "I slept the whole way?" she asked earning a 'what do you think' glance from Eric. She grinned despite herself rubbing her neck and stretching out her casted arm as well as she could. "It should be blue," she mumbled looking at her cast. Her fingers poked out from the end of it and there was some flexibility allowed by the cast, not a lot, but enough to say�shoot a weapon if she needed. How thoughtful the docs had been. The cast then continued in its dull whitish color up to her elbow. She knew the cast should have gone over her elbow but she could almost hear the argument from Gray... 'She needs as much mobility as possible.' 'If we don't immobilize it correctly the chances of reinjuring it are much higher and she could be in a cast all that much longer.' 'I don't care about chances, make sure she can use the arm.' Yeah, that was probably about right. And so the cast went up to her elbow, pretty much guaranteeing her an extra week or two on the already established four to six. And that was the best case scenario. "What should be blue?" Eric asked half interested as he adjusted the bags on his shoulder, the uninjured side she presumed. "The cast," Paige looked up to him, "the cast should be blue." She offered her hand, taking the smaller of her bags that he held in his hands and turned towards the cabin. The porch light was on in a characteristically 'Walton' style that brought a small grin to her face. The small light did its best to fend off the approaching darkness, but Paige knew, in another hour or so, save for just a little area on the porch, the house would be swallowed by the blackness. "This is it, huh?" she turned to look at Eric who met her gaze briefly. "This where you spend your time hiding out from the rest of the world?" She snorted softly, "must be nice." He said nothing, and she really didn't expect him to. The days of baiting him into a senseless discussion were long over. They might not ever get back to that companionship they had once shared. It had been reduced to simply a matter of tolerating each other. There were feelings there, of course, and they had been abused, torn, fractured just a little. That was there they had come from, a place that loved to fracture things, bones, bodies, feelings, spirits, anything. But something might come out of the next few hours between them two. Besides returning the favor of manipulation and betrayal to him, she knew something else was coming. Good or bad, it was coming. And she was helpless to stop it. He unlocked the door, stepping swiftly inside to disengage the security alarm. Paige followed in behind waiting near him until the lights went on and she got a better view of the place. "This is your place?" she asked slowly taking it in moving to the center of the living room and turning around in a slow circle. She had no idea if the details were being captured in her memory (it being a jumbled mess at the moment) but she hoped it wasn't. Because coming into the cabin was just a little like entering another world to her, something strung together by tales and books and movies, a menagerie of tiny little pieces of memory that didn't quite fit together. She loved the feeling, the feeling of something brand new, never before seen, never before captured in her mind. New. It was so simple that it was breathtaking. She lowered herself on to one of the couches as she stared at the soaring ceiling complete with a couple dream catchers. "This place rocks," she grinned searching him out. He smiled softly, watching her, then nodded his head, "thank you." She returned to staring at the dream catcher as it moved slightly in some upper ceiling atmospheric mini jet stream unfelt by her in the lower atmosphere. She did not push her mind to work, to find the possible source of what made the dream catcher move. She didn't want to. She didn't want to ruin it. There was something special in not knowing, something very special in not knowing certain things. Eric was back, sitting across from her on the other couch and offering a bottle of water. "You have not drank anything in some time, I should think." She nodded her head, never taking her eyes off him, and leaned forward taking the bottle from him. She unscrewed the cap and drank a little bit, her stomach immediately turning a little from the coldness of the liquid. She stopped after only a few sips putting the cap back on and placed the bottle on the table, on a coaster that had conveniently appeared. She tried to recall images from the California mission as she stared at the water bottle. There was a few, but they didn't make sense. Yet she still felt the pangs of betrayal deep inside and sometimes emotions were the best triggers for her memories. Joshua had stated it clearly 'he owes you for the shit he pulled in Cali' and she had known this to be true. She just wasn't quite sure of all the details. She finally looked up to Eric who watched her carefully. "I need your help," she said quietly, each word detached her further from herself, further into emptiness so she might be able to do this. It was not unlike the feeling of being the killer-become. Flashes of the assassination flitted through her mind, Saf, Baz Jordy, and there was another, one that had helped, but she couldn't remember his name. The image cleared up into a brilliant white disk against an inky background. The Moonlighter, that was what she had called him when she had been empty back then. When she was the killer-becoming. "Help." He said the word so exactly, with such purpose, so definitely, as if he had expected such a request from her. Had he? Probably, but that didn't really matter. "There's a small army base about an hour and a half south west of here. It's used by the National Guard sometimes on weekends and they're out on maneuvers. Earlier today a shipment of computer hardware arrived there on a trailer. It's going to be moved soon. It needs to be destroyed before it's moved. I'm going to destroy it...and I need your help doing it." There. She had done it. Put the request on the table. Now it was up to him. He contemplated her for a moment. "You're only telling me half the truth." She was a little surprised by his statement but shook her head 'no' slowly. "Why are you doing this?" She gave no response. "It is Section, is it not?" She tilted her head just the slightest bit. Her mind kicked into slow gear trying to think of new way to present the information without giving it all away. Maybe she could put it on Section? But the time had given him a chance to jump to conclusion. "Joshua," he said simply. "Why?" There went that idea. "Before we came to the SIA, when we were still back in the Section, Madeline had given Safara some sort of chemical, some sort of drug. It's bad shit, and it could compromise all of us. Joshua was the only one that had access to that sort of information, what it is, what it does...I asked him for it. My return is to destroy that trailer." "You left Section, Oversight, JOSHUA, to get out from under their control, didn't you? I pretended to kill my daughter, actually killed the leaders of the free world's anti-terrorist agencies, to get out from under that control, and now you go back to them and ask me to come along and help? Why not ask me to kill you�and then myself?" Daughter. His daughter. She remembered, the young girl, bound and gagged, the once then Kihn holding her, the likeness of the two. But go back to Them? She felt the anger rise up over the pangs of remembrance. "First off, I didn't have a choice to leave Section - it was the SIA or cancellation. Secondly, I know all about your daughter - I have the scars to prove it. Or did you forget about that?" She paused for a moment, taking in more memories of him, what he did. The very reason why they were sitting here at this moment. "And why shouldn't I ask? You owe me. I gave you EVERYTHING! You BETRAYED me! And then you come to my apartment and ask to work through things? Then you sit up here, in your little cabin in the woods, in your own little world while everyone else is picking up pieces - I'M still picking up pieces. I'm still trying to get out. It's the least you can do is help me." He sat back in the couch, taking it all in, watching her. Then he responded quietly, in a voice filled with so much intensity it could have rivaled Joshua's. "You demand this of me, as if I would not do it upon your request, even your thought wish? Is it so hard to deal with the reality of your slavery to Joshua that you must bring others in with you, while ignoring what you are doing? If I owe you I will repay you, NOT by helping you to your death. In everything, I have tried to help you to life, and that remains my intention." "Then if..." "I listened to you, now listen to me." Her mouth snapped shut with his admonition. "This has nothing to do with my daughter or with Stratus, and nothing to do with my owing you or not. You have chosen to put yourself into servitude to Joshua and others, yet again, but you claim to be trying to get out? So tell me, when I finish, why do you not get out? Why do you not ask me for help with that? If the two of us could not get away, we would at least make a story of the hunt and fight that would spread, and inspire others in our situation. But you think I have it made? That I got out clean, and have let you all struggle? Why do you think I came to your place? I went to help you get out, and you refused my help, because you are in too deep, too dependent on it. Look me in the eyes and tell me I am wrong. But no, I did not get out clean. Just the other day I nearly killed a couple petty criminals for threatening to hit a girl. NEARLY KILLED because I had a bad day and they offended me. I am out here in my cabin in the woods because I CAN NOT DEAL with the outside world. But I WILL NOT submit myself to slavery, either, and neither should you." She let out a breath as her eyes darted around the cabin. This was not going the way it was supposed to be going. He was not supposed to be attacking her! He was supposed to be relenting to her, supposed to be cut down into nothingness until he agreed to help her. But this? He was not supposed to be doing this. She had to steer the conversation back into her favor. "I am not in too deep. I am not his *servant* as you so blatantly put it. I needed that intel on the chemical for Saf and for the rest of us. Joshua was the only one that could get it. I set myself up for this, I know that, but I *had* to do it. Now I *have* to do this. I have to. And if you care so much about my life...then you'll help me." He looked to her solemnly. "Of course I will help you. I have always helped you, and always will. There is no need to bring anything else into it. But why did you put yourself in a situation where you HAD to do something? Did getting the chemical information help Saf? Did you HAVE to help Saf? If so, it is a weakness by which he DOES hold on you�unless there is a greater bond of which you do not speak. You will not be free until you deal with those, but I will not be held, not even by my care for you. Make no mistake. I will either kill them or I will die of sorrow first. If you involve me, you bring it to pass sooner." Now it was on her? Why didn't he get it? She tried again. "The chemical, I got a lot of intel but I need time to figure it out. But it messes with the neurotransmitters in the brain, it makes someone more pliant. It nearly got her killed. And Madeline made it...with someone's help. Joshua and Michael are trying to figure out who. So, yes, I needed it because if Section has that information - there's no telling what or who they'll use it on. I got the intel for her...but I also got it for everyone. No one is safe when it comes to Madeline...you know that." "I know that, and yet I make no effort to interfere, because IT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. I am a soldier, and do what is required to carry out certain justifiable missions. I am not the savior of the world, the avenger of evil, or in any other way the one to stop Madeline, unless my government asks me to kill her. What are you? What are your ultimate objectives? " "I don't have objectives. I did what I thought was the right thing to do. To protect myself." Paige studied him carefully then smiled. "If the government asked you to kill her...who would be the servant then?" "Do you say that because you think I need help to get free, or because you think it weakens my argument?" She scoffed at him. "Weakens your argument." He smiled, not a common thing for him. "It would, if you were right. However, you are wrong. It would be my choice whether or not to kill her, and it would be my decision to kill her, after I got all the information I could out of her concerning myself and, perhaps you. Section 1 & Joshua are not my government. My government does not demand my service, or if it did, I simply resign and they lose all control over me. Thus, I am not its servant. But that is irrelevant. If you do what you have to to protect yourself then you have to divest yourself of all weaknesses, everything they can use. You must care about nothing more than freedom. For whatever reason, until now, they have seen fit to give me enough freedom. I will do this thing for you, but if your words are true, if you really do want to get out, then you must cooperate with me in eliminating their ability to control either of us." "I don't think I can," she said softly, "divest myself of everything, care about nothing more than freedom. I don't think I can do that." "Then they have you, and you are in too deep. " For the first time in the conversation he appeared truly affected by what she said, and the effect was deep sorrow. So he sat, his whole self appearing fallen somewhat, even his body and facial expression, as neutral as he usually held them. Finally he spoke again. "What will you do when I try to break free?" When. Not 'if' but 'when' he said. And she knew, he spoke it with conviction. "I don't know." "I suspect you did not know what you would do when Joshua first approached you after your departure from Section 1. He played you, and you let yourself be played. Very well, but I will be unable to confide in you, as I had hoped." She twitched, "that's harsh...even for you." Paige shook her head. "I don't know what else to say. I just...don't know." "And you expected what from me?" She got up, completely worn from the discussion. She shrugged, "I guess that really doesn't matter now." "No, I do not suppose it does. Again, even now, our Section training forces us into a purely utilitarian relationship. Ah the world. And we have a mission to prepare for, do we not? I suggest we sleep for a couple of hours." "Sleep...sure. I suppose I'll just take the couch?" "If you wish." He simply slumped down where he was, folded his arms loosely over his chest, and fell to sleep. She watched him for a moment before shaking herself and walking to the large windows that looked over the porch. As she had guessed, the tiny front light held only a smidgen of the darkness at bay. Just that one little light, so tiny, in a huge world of darkness. She never thought she would feel like anything as inanimate as a light, on a tiny porch, in the middle of north west New Jersey. But she did. She had come here intent on breaking him, breaking Eric, manipulating and controlling him. What she had done was lose him, crossed over that final line and shredded whatever was left between them. Would she, knowing what she knows now, would she have heeded Joshua's warning of retribution, or servitude, had she known where it would lead? Would she have let him into her bedroom, into her passion that she so carefully hid? Would she have let Joshua take it away, burn it and scorch it into nothingness? Would she have taken that envelope? She finally understood, in a moment of clarity so sharp it almost took her breath. She finally understood what Joshua meant about things being bigger than she was, about doing things you didn't like, about the world being a cruel place made up by other people's rules. She finally understood. Finally fucking understood. And armed with that understanding, would she still have given him her soul? You're damn right she would've. What did Eric expect? Did he think she could just walk away from Joshua? You didn't just walk away from that. She had already had this argument in her head once. The fact was that Eric didn't know what it was like to be in her shoes. He acted like she could just pick herself up and walk away, like she could wake up one day and say, "you know, Joshua, this isn't working for me. I just don't feel like being your toy anymore. Find someone else." Oh, yeah, that would go over just perfectly. She could just see Joshua after that comment, and frankly she'd rather not imagine it. Because she knew what would happen if she tried that, if she tried to break away from him, if she tried to leave. She had asked him once if he intended to kill her. And he had never answered her. He didn't have to though. The look in his eyes had said everything. No, she couldn't walk away from him. Because if she did, even if she championed Eric's help, Joshua would kill her. He'd kill them both. It wouldn't end until he said it did. 'I want you home tomorrow'. He had said it in that tone again, the one that implied ownership. Because she had become something more, become something of Joshua's, not herself, not an individual, but an object of gratification. She sighed, a sorrowful sigh born out of understanding one's place in the bigger scheme of things. A resolute sigh of one who had had a path chosen for her and she in turn followed it. But she did not walk that path alone. Joshua walked right beside her, whispering words into her ear, seeping into her brain, inside of her. He broke her down slowly, until all that was left was a shell to hold him in. He was inside of her as sure as the blood in her veins, and no matter how much she could cut herself to get him out, he would only leak and drip in small amounts before she had time to heal and then he'd be trapped inside again. She would never get him out totally. He was in there for good, and she was learning to live with him being there. And she would learn to die with him being there. She moved back to the couch, a sudden calm having come over her. Or maybe it was simply exhaustion. It was hard to tell. But it didn't matter, it just didn't matter. The mission would be over in a few hours and she would begin the task of again redefining her role and where she stood with Joshua. She just needed a little sleep. Just a little sleep... Return |
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