Please rest assured that you will be scored on the time the subject spends in the living quarters only, and the completion of this project will not be extended should the subject need to be removed periodically for interrogation purposes.
We take this opportunity to compliment your actions and congratulate you on the brisk completion of the instructions given to you this far.
Captain Harrow, please do not concern yourself with outside matters, your tasks within the living quarters have been stupendous so far, so keep up the good work.
We will see you when you get out, major.
With regards and gratitude,
PDD”
I must have summoned the door to open with so many hours of pacing around. They left me with nothing else to do but wait, so I took the opportunity and polished the floor with my shoes from so much fidgeting around.
“Galenor!” I jumped before the door even opened properly, watching how the guards threw him into the room, and doing my best to reach him and soften the fall, afraid that he couldn’t walk again.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, I got you,” I whispered, gripping his back and pressing his chest to mine while my knees struggled under the pressure of his weight.
A heavy groan opened his throat, but I did not know if it tried to express pain or annoyance. Still, his hands wrapped around my shoulders and the fae did his best to grab a hold of his own weight.
“I’m not feeling so good…” he murmured into my ear, his heavy breath draping across my neck to sew concern.
“You’re okay, you’ll be okay.” I tried to encourage him, though his skin looked worse than the day before. His injuries did not have time to heal before the new session of torture, which impregnated into his skin like snow on a dry field.
Pellets of dried blood adorned his shirt and the parts of his skin that I reached, accompanied by deep cuts and heavy injuries. His muscles trembled, his throat bobbed, and his eyes barely kept him awake, probably using the last drops of adrenaline he had left.
“I’m going to be sick…” Galenor announced, his gaze peering out at me while pressing his lips together to hold it in.
“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” I jumped into action and pressed both our weight into my heels, finding momentum to pull both of us on our feet. Once Galenor regained part of his balance, the trip to the bathroom did not prove as heavy as I expected it, the fae doing his best to strain his muscles into a soft walk.
As soon as we reached the bathroom, he dropped to his knees and buried his head into the toilet bowl to expel the contents of his stomach. Normally, I would have stepped out. Like any sane person, I hated the smell of vomit, but curiosity locked my legs into place, concern forcing me to remain pinned by the door.
I spotted more blood dripping into the toilet, from his throat or from his stomach, I did not know. My nose wrinkled at the thought of his pain, forcing me to suck in oxygen as if the air from my lungs would give him some sort of reprieve. I sat there blinking, watching his back strain with pain, his lungs heaving in between courses of throwing up blood. The process took long minutes, or at least that’s what my brain assumed from the amount of blood and the acuteness of the pain Galenor was experiencing.
When he finally stopped, I passed him a clean towel, stepping closer to where he remained seated by the toilet bowl, pressing his lips together and struggling to breathe through his nose.
“Thank you…” he exhaled and moved to wipe away any traces of blood from his lips.
“Can you drink? I’ll make you another tea,” I offered, causing him to shake his head no.
“Save it for later, there’s not much point to it.” Galenor straightened his back and moved a little to the side to lean against the bathroom wall, his muscles shaking at the contact with the cold. His head leaned back, splaying his dark locks on the wall to paint tree branches with the crimson remains in his hair.
“It makes you feel better, that is the point,” I tried to justify, worried that he might reject my offering. Worried that once more, he saw me as an enemy.A pretty cunt to sweeten the deal, his voice rumbled through my memories.
“It won’t,” he sighed, tired and bothered. “I won’t have time to heal before they take me again.” His words came out with hatred, with annoyance even, as if what was happening to him was my fault. As if I should use a little more of my brain before bothering him with questions.
“So, whatcanI do for you?” I tried again, unwilling to abandon him. Unprepared to leave him in that state, stuck to a bathroom wall, bleeding and in pain, with no one to care for his wellbeing.
Galenor sighed, annoyance heaving off in waves to cover his entire posture. “Just leave me the fuck alone, muffin.”
I wanted to protest, I wanted to refuse and stay there with him, but the fae closed his eyes and leaned against the wall to rest its back straighter. Telling me that he had no use for me or anyone else. That he needed and deserved some peace and quiet.
I stepped away and got out of the bathroom, giving him the space he had required. Shutting the door behind me.
For the next hour, I remained in the bedroom, pacing around and listening by the door, wanting to make sure he was alright, but too afraid to knock and ask him. When I heard the shower running, my heart calmed down a little more.
Reaching the shower meant that his legs worked again, that he could stand long enough to turn the water on, and he was strong enough to clean himself. Or wanted to, at least.
Possessed by instinct and absolutely not thinking my actions through, I returned into the living room to grab his pillow and blanket and bring them back into the bedroom to place them on the floor in front of the bathroom door.
