Chapter Text
With her vision blurry, Scylla saw a thin flow of blood run from her girlfriend’s nose, pooling on the corner of her mouth in bright angry red. She screamed at the top of her lungs but no sound came out.
Telling how much time had passed since Raelle’s howls of agony had been the only thing she could hear was hard. Her mind was frozen in place, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. No matter how much she asked them, begged them, to stop hurting Raelle, they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t even look at her. It was as if she was underwater, struggling to get to the surface and just as she was prepared to come up and gasp for air, something pulled her down and she ended up drowning.
“Stop!” Scylla finally managed to get out, lurching her body forward, her chains yanking her back. It was too much, all of it. The way Raelle had her eyes closed and her knuckles white as she grasped the chair’s arms in attempt to subside the pain; the stream of tears running down her cheeks as she screamed. Scylla didn’t care what happened to her, but they couldn’t touch Raelle. Not her. Not the fierce, stubborn, passionate girl who had thought her how to love again.
“Tell us how the Spree found out about the Bellweather wedding,” the general ordered, relenting her grip on Raelle’s head. Scylla sobbed as she watched Raelle try to catch her breath, brushing tears off her face, eyes still closed as if afraid that when she opened them it would all start again.
“I don’t know,” Scylla looked the general in the eye, chest heaving. “I swear-” she started before being interrupted by Raelle’s screams as the general returned her attention back to her.
“I’m telling you I didn’t know about the attack on the wedding!” Scylla cried out, the bands of leather around her wrists pressing sharply into her skin. “I was told to attend and so I did,” Scylla breathed out, pointedly omitting what she had been sent there to do, what she had lacked the resolve to do.
During the restless hours Scylla had sat there on that chair in the dark, she had often asked herself what would have happened that day if Raelle hadn’t asked her to dance. Would she still have derailed her mission? Or would she have given Raelle to strangers who couldn’t even guarantee she would be safe?
Scylla liked to think she had already made her choice before Raelle’s request, that she had already chosen her over the mission, over her own life. Failing the Spree meant she became one of their loose ends, something to be dealt with, in whatever way they saw fit. Scylla had been ready to make that sacrifice, all for Raelle to be safe.
But the truth was, she hadn’t chosen, not objectively, not until the clock hit 6 p.m. and she told Raelle the most honest thing she had ever said since she met her; not until she told her she loved her and Raelle brought their bodies impossibly closer. She hadn’t replied, not with words, but Scylla had felt her smiling against her cheek and that had been more than enough.
Now, she was once again faced with a terrible choice; to betray the cause she had believed in ever since her parents died and, in a way, their memory; or to betray the girl she loved, the person who had given her something to fight for far greater than revenge.
“You have to give us more than that, Ramshorn,” Anacostia pressed, wiping away the blood from Raelle’s face in a way that was almost delicate. Scylla knew the drill sergeant wasn’t enjoying herself seeing Raelle suffer, she had always had a soft spot for her, but the way she spoke with her tone on the verge of pretentious was infuriating.
Scylla let out a scream of frustration and made her choice.
Her arms went slack against the restraints and for the first time in a while the room went silent, still as if waiting for Scylla’s decision to come back to life again.
“Scyl, please,” Raelle asked quietly, voice broken as she raised her eyes to look straight at Scylla. Her hair was glued to her forehead with sweat and in her gaze Scylla saw a sea of pleading and pain, but also a small wave of trust and affection.
Scylla nodded, pushing the last bit of conflict out of her mind as she stared into Raelle’s eyes.
“Raelle doesn’t need to be here for this,” Scylla affirmed, speaking to General Alder. Raelle had suffered enough because of her already, staying to hear what she had to say would only make it worse. Scylla hadn’t been able to protect her before, but she could put her pride on the line and make a request to the general now.
“She will stay to make sure you collaborate,” the general dismissed her in a tight tone.
She wanted to tell her so many things before what would certainly make Raelle never want to speak to her again. But that wasn’t the time nor the place.
Scylla motioned her index finger over the palm of her left hand, carefully drawing the ‘S’ she hoped would tell Raelle she had meant everything she said earlier; that she would never do anything to hurt her; that she would always be with her, no matter what. And also that she was sorry. So sorry.
“You don’t need to speak, if it will make it easier,” Anacostia walked over from where she was standing behind Raelle to Scylla’s side. Out of the corner of her eye, Scylla watched Raelle stroke the palm of her hand discreetly. “Just stop resisting, let me link with you,” she offered. There was a small amount of pity in the way the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. Scylla sighed and nodded in defeat.
As soon as Anacostia’s hand reached her shoulder, Scylla was taken back into her past. Memories flashed before her eyes as Anacostia combed through her mind. Air left her lungs as she saw the dead body of her father stiff on the ground, gaze blank, holding her mother’s hand till the end. Having someone else relive that moment with her made Scylla feel guilty, like she was allowing the corruption of something sacred. But most of all it made her feel so very vulnerable.
She tried thinking of Raelle. Even though she couldn’t see her, not when her mind was being flooded with far too much for her to handle, knowing she was there reminded her of her new found purpose and it made the experience just a tiny bit more bearable.
Soon followed Porter; images of him smiling, back when they were both children, a small sense of comfort quickly turning into anguish as she defined his fate with a whisper.
Scylla often prided herself in being a person who was in control, not only of others and her surroundings, but also of herself. She knew how to keep her emotions in check, how to channel them into her goals. But every ounce of control she had was being swept further and further away, carried by an invincible current matched only by the flow of her tears in terms of force.
She allowed Anacostia to see the Spree recruiting her, a balloon in the mirror of her room during basics, words slowly forming on the glass as the balloon moved swiftly. She let her see the whole ordeal of the mall attack, let her feel how it had actually been hard for her, and then, with an apprehensive gasp, pushed her out suddenly, locking in the blurry writing of Raelle’s name on the mirror.
Scylla groaned as she struggled to get her breathing under control.
Raelle was looking at her attentively, almost as if she wished she could reach her. Scylla hadn’t realized how hard it would be to break her heart until that moment.
Because she knew she would. If Raelle loved Scylla half as much as Scylla loved her, she was about to break her heart if she let Anacostia continue seeing her memories and discover what had initially motivated her getting close to Raelle.
And she wasn’t ready for that, not yet.
“Did you find anything?” General Alder asked Anacostia, who was trying to process everything she saw.
The drill sergeant nodded, proceeding to tell the general about the Spree headquarters she had seen in Scylla’s memories.
“I’ll get a strike team ready,” Alder declared, turning her back to them and leaving the room. Scylla scoffed. The general was desperate enough for a win to personally oversee a mission.
Scylla’s heart rate finally begun to come down as a small hope Anacostia would now call it a night begun to flourish inside her.
“You didn’t show me everything.” But of course that wasn’t happening, Scylla thought to herself. Anacostia paced between Scylla and Raelle, hovering over them as if trying to figure what it was Scylla was hiding. “I felt you push me out.”
“Don’t I get a little privacy?” Scylla tried going back to her usual boldness, her voice failing her as she caught a glimpse of Raelle’s conflicted gaze.
“Does it have something to do Private Collar?” Anacostia questioned, ignoring her attempt at resistance. She had Scylla right where she wanted her and she knew it. She needed only to press a bit further.
“It’s not important,” Scylla rushed to say, bitterness taking a hold of her tone. She had already given them too much, she wouldn’t let them take more away from her. Not Raelle’s memory of her.
“I think General Alder would disagree,” Anacostia calmly replied. “I must admit I don’t feel totally comfortable with her methods,” she eyed Raelle as she spoke, “but they do provide excellent results.” The unspoken meaning of her words wasn’t lost on Scylla. Start talking or next time Raelle will get more than a nosebleed and a headache.
Scylla looked at Raelle, whose face was devoid of color, tear tracks drying on her cheeks, brow furrowed in anticipation and worry. She bit down on her lip.
“So, what would the Spree want with Private Collar?” Anacostia pressed, halting her pacing next to Scylla, hands behind her back.
“I don’t know,” Scylla looked at the floor, not wanting to see Raelle’s expression when she realized of the implications of the Spree wanting something to do with her. “I was never told,” Scylla admitted.
“Scylla?” Raelle broke through the stupor Scylla unconsciously found herself in. “What are you talking about?” Her voice was watery and her chin was quivering almost imperceptibly. Scylla cursed the chains that bound her, wishing she could set herself free to hold Raelle in her arms, to take her pain away, to assure her she loved her.
“They told me to get close to you,” she confessed instead. “I was supposed to bring you to them after the wedding,” she took a deep breath. Raelle’s features reflected a mixture of emotions Scylla couldn’t quiet name. She sat so still on her chair, Scylla was afraid she’d fall if she said anything else. “But they wouldn’t even tell me if you’d be safe,” Scylla whimpered. There it was, her biggest secret, unveiled between sobs, tears and unspoken apologies. “I couldn’t do it”.
Scylla could only imagine what Raelle must have been feeling; to have the person you love tell you such a thing, it must be like being stabbed in the back; like jumping of a plane believing someone will catch you, but instead you just fall, fall and fall and suddenly even find yourself wishing to hit the ground. Scylla wanted more than anything to tell Raelle she was there; she’d catch her; she’d do everything for her.
Raelle shook her head softly in disbelief, mumbling to herself something Scylla couldn’t hear. Her lips parted to speak once again, to tell Raelle that no matter how their story begun, it was true, she loved her more than anything.
“Why do the Spree want Private Collar?” Anacostia was unrelenting, although her tone was now slightly less harsh towards Scylla. She could sense the regret in Scylla’s words; Scylla hoped Raelle could too.
“I told you, I don’t know,” Scylla shouted as tears flowed down her cheeks. “I guess a lot of their recruits are people who’ve lost someone because of the military, maybe if you stopped getting our parents killed, the Spree wouldn’t be such a threat,” Scylla continued with a sudden humorous spite.
“There has to be more to it than that,” Raelle whispered, fighting back tears, fists clenched. She looked so small, so fragile, so far from the defiant, headstrong girl Scylla had fallen in love with.
“You have no idea how powerful you are,” Scylla said.
If only she could see a spark of that power now, a trace of her essence. In a way, in that moment, Scylla wished Raelle was angry; she wished she’d scream in fury, lash out against her, release that inner storm whose wrath took down everything in its path. But she didn’t; she merely sat there, crying silently, fidgeting with fingers mindlessly.
“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe you loved me,” Raelle muttered, eyeing the floor, searching for something to focus other than Scylla.
“I do love you, Rae,” Scylla hoped her emotions, if not her words, would convince Raelle of that. “More than anything,” she added, but her remark seemed to fall on deaf ears. “And I’m so sorry”.
Scylla imagined that, if she was in Raelle’s shoes, she wouldn’t believe her either and she couldn’t blame her. Trust was something that came hard for both of them and Scylla had abused Raelle’s in the most intimate way possible.
The best she could hope for now was to one day be forgiven.
“Can I go now?” Raelle asked Anacostia, who had stood back, allowing them their small moment of conversation. The drill sergeant nodded and raised an arm to support Raelle as she got up and walked her out of the room.
Scylla looked at Raelle, face bloody, shoulders slouched in exhaustion. She would do whatever she had to make sure one day Raelle knew nothing between them had been a lie.
Just as the blonde was about to reach the door, she halted her pace and turned back to look at Scylla.
I love you, Scylla mouthed, fixating her gaze, putting everything she had into that one last look.
She didn’t know if she imagined it or not, but she could swear Raelle’s lips moved silently in an I love you too.