Breathe

The Breaking: Part 13a

C/W - Torture 

"Ah look. Still here." The commander laughed. "Not like you could go anywhere anyway." Safiya glared at him. "Time to tell me some more information!"

"What more could he possibly tell you?!" she spat.

"Well," he said, turning around the chair he had bought in, sitting backwards on it. "I want to know troop numbers, movements, artillery, weapons, everything like that."

She scoffed. "As if he could tell you all of that."

"Oh, he'll tell us." He grinned. He whistled and two guards came in, flanking Logan as they removed the gag. "How many troops?"

Logan licked his lips, swallowing before he answered. "There are 30 men in each platoon. 10 men in each section and we do 8 hour shifts."

"What are the shifts?" the commander frowned.

"Guard the base, guard the city officials, and sleep." Logan said.

"What about since we captured you guys?" He stroked his chin, deep in thought.

"They would have split the remaining groups. 7, 7 and 6, for like 2 weeks after you captured us. They would have sent for extra troops when we didn't come back to base. Now, there will be probably another 30 odd people." Logan retorted.

The commander clicked his tongue. "Smart ass. Last warning. Movements."

"8 hours on protection, 8 hours on base duty, 8 hours sleep. Repeat."

"What about throughout the rest of the country?"

"I have no idea." Logan admitted.

"You know what happens now, right?" The commander asked, getting up and jerking his head at Logan's guards.

They gripped his arms tightly and he started yelling. "No! Please! I promise! I have no idea about any other movements! They don't tell us!"

The whip was removed from the table, and was brought down with a crack. Safiya closed her eyes, her back arching involuntarily as her muscles tensed. The whip came down another 9 times before he finally stopped. She had tears in her eyes, and Logan just kept screaming that he didn't know, that they didn't tell the troops for this very reason. She thought they were done, but he just shoved a piece of leather in her mouth.

"Don't want to damage those pretty porcelain teeth, do we sweetheart?" he brushed his hand over her cheek. She shuddered at the intimate touch, but bit down on the leather.

The commander stood behind her again, picking up the whip. "Movements. Now." He ordered.

Logan struggled furiously, "I DON'T KNOW!! THEY DON'T TELL US!!" he roared. Safiya endured 20 more lashes before she couldn't take it and started crying out.

"Please!!" Logan sobbed. "Please! I really don't know! I promise! Please stop!"

He ignored Logan's pleading, doling out another 25 lashes before finally stopping for a break.

Her skin was split, black and blue. Blood was running down her back, dripping onto her jeans, onto the concrete floor she was kneeling on. She could only imagine Logan's face when he saw the tears streaked down her face, her chin dripping in drool.

"Fuck you! You fucking bastard!" Logan screamed.

"Well, that's another 15," the commander sighed grabbing the whip he had just put down. A crack was heard and all Logan could do was sag against the men holding him. "That's quite an arm workout isn't it?" he asked, finishing and rotating his shoulder. "You want more?" He asked Safiya forcing her head back, grabbing her by the throat.

She couldn't stop sobbing, trying to shake her head within his vice-like grip. "Well, you're not shaking your head so I guess that's a yes." She could feel him grinning. She cried harder, trying to say no, but her throat was raw from all the screaming. He let her go, stepping back, snapping his whip against the concrete floor. She couldn't do anything but sag against the chains, shuddering, dreading the impact of that whip. Her sobs racked her entire body.

"I am so, fucking, sorry," Logan whispered to Safiya through his shuddering sobs.

"You know what, we're going to make that 2 lashings for each word. I didn't say you could talk, let alone to her. Count." He said, prodding Safiya with the butt of the whip.

The whip snapped and she screamed again.
Safiya pushed out the leather bit, spitting out the next word. "One." She had thought about refusing to count, but she couldn't take anymore.
The whip hit her again, splitting flesh.
"Two," she screamed.
The next time the whip made contact, it hit the same place it got before, tearing the skin down to the bone.
"Three," came the whisper.
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
"Seven."
She opened her mouth in a silent scream as the whip came down. "Eight." It was barely a whisper.
'Nine' came out as a choked sob, and 'ten' was nothing more than a slight push of air as she mouthed the words.

Safiya was barely conscious as the commander admitted defeat. Instead, he asked about weaponry. Logan's face turned hard. "I'm not telling you another damn thing until you let me hold her."

The silence, broken only by Safiya's sobs, her chains clanking and the sound of her blood dripping into the already pooled puddle, was deafening.

The man dropped the whip, jerking his head at the other guards. Logan was dragged towards Safiya on his chair and was pushed forward, just enough to touch her. Safiya leaned towards him and he scooted forward a bit more. His guards reached out but stopped at the commanders outstretched hand.

"As ons hom nou by haar laat wees, sal hy beter saamwerk." He said. If we let him be with her right now, he'll cooperate better.

Safiya ignored them, sagging against Logan's touch. He buried his face in her neck, feeling her tears drip down his neck. He kept a constant stream of affection, praise and all the tips about surviving this he could share, into her ear. "Good girl. You did so well. I'm so proud of you, Baby. Just breathe. I love you. We'll be okay, you can do this." The sobs racked her body and he pushed kisses stained with his own tears all over her skin. Safiya kissed him back as much as she could, barely making a sound as she told him she was okay, she was still alive. She nuzzled his neck, barely conscious as he continued to whisper about how they were going to get out of this and how he was so sorry. His words wrapped around her, caressing and comforting her as she struggled to fight the oncoming blackness.

The commander banged on the door, giving instructions to the people on the other side. He approached the couple, Safiya's corresponding flinch causing her to faint.

She regained consciousness when the door slammed and she winced. A cool, wet towel had been placed on her bleeding back, an amenity that Logan had somehow obtained through negotiation. Safiya was still kneeling on the floor, the chains shackled to her arms preventing her from collapsing completely on the floor. Her head was on Logan's lap, a hand stroking her hair as he spoke about whatever it was he had been asked. Logan leant down as she lifted her head, his free hand cupping her face. She looked at his hand in confusion. "Another amenity I managed to negotiate for you, Baby. Just for today." He smiled, pushing back the hair that was clinging to her face with literal blood, sweat and tears. The commander asked Logan another question and he answered, eyes not leaving Safiya for a moment.

The next few days were the worst. Not only was Safiya suffering through withdrawals as a result from not having access to her medication – vomiting, shaking, barely able to sleep, barely able to lift her head or eat – but Logan refused to talk unless she was touching him. Safiya didn't know if this was because he noticed her light-headedness, dizziness and the inability to keep track of time, or just because he wanted to be able to touch her, but anytime they tried to part the couple, Logan stopped talking. So, the first few days were agonizing as they tried to break him, but he held firm. He refused to say anything even when she was whipped, stabbed or burnt. No matter how many times she vomited, or they removed or added a knife into his skin, he kept his mouth shut.