Breathe

The Rescue: Part 14

C/W - more blood and gore 

8 weeks after Safiya was captured, they were in their usual interrogation positions. Logan was bound to the chair, close enough that if he leant forward, he could bury his face in Safiya's neck. Safiya was chained with her arms spread, sitting on the floor with her head on Logan's lap. If she knelt upright, she could bury her face in his neck.

There was a commotion outside the door, and they both sat up, looking at each other then back to the door. "What's going on?" He whispered, having a rare reprieve from the gag.

She frowned, trying to listen. "Somebody is here. They're trying to hide. 'Run'. 'Ignore them'. 'That's who they're here for.'" She translated random words. There were popping sounds and she turned to Logan.

"Gunshots." He breathed.

The door burst open and the room was suddenly filled with lights, soldiers, smoke and yelling. The room was secured and shouts of 'clear' were heard. Safiya screamed and the group stopped, staring at the scene before them. A chained half-naked woman with her back split open, and a soldier tied to a chair, uniform covered in blood, dirt, vomit and knife holes. Two men came forward, one undoing Logan, one trying to take off Safiya's chains. Once Logan was freed, he collapsed in front of Safiya, screaming at the men to take her chains off. Without the keys, the men were forced to pry open the chains, leaving the shackles on her wrists. She collapsed into Logan's arms, sobbing with relief. He picked her up, following the soldiers out of the room. Safiya clung to him desperately, shocked he was able to run so well. He had been working out religiously in his cell to stop his muscles from atrophying and adrenaline was an amazing thing but still. As they ran, she spotted the commander trying to crawl away from the violence with what looked like a bullet wound in his shoulder. She stopped Logan, trying to pull away. He frowned, noticed what she was looking at and his face hardened. He tried to give her to another soldier but she clung to him. He put her down on her bare feet, silently asking her to wait as he walked over to the pathetic looking man. Logan rolled him over with his foot, smirking at the fear in his eyes.

"Oh, hello there. Remember me?" Logan pushed his foot into the wound on his shoulder, making him scream. His foot lashed out, breaking his nose. Blood gushed out and Logan grabbed the knife from the commander's belt. "I promised to repay you. Remember?" Logan gave him a sadistic smile, carving the flesh of the man's stomach. He screamed again.

"Osmond, Sir, we have to get going!" A soldier knelt behind him, firing bullets the way that had just come.

"Aren't you lucky?" Logan said with a sneer. He plunged the knife into his stomach, practically gutting the man before he pulled out again, shoving it into the side of his neck. Blood spurted out and the commander gargled on it. Logan stood up, standing on the commander's face with a smirk as he walked over to Safiya. He picked her up again, and kept running. With each step, she could hear feel her wounds starting to open. They turned the corner, running outside. Her whole body shuddered at the cold wind attacking her half naked body. Her shuddering made her flinch, the sudden jolt making her back arch. She screamed, the little healing that had been done, torn anew, blood dripping onto Logan's arms. They followed the men blindly, eyes still adjusting to the sunlight. Stopping behind a wall, the soldiers took out their medical kits. A survival blanket was wrapped around Safiya's shivering form. She winced, trying not to yelp as the rough fabric rubbed against her wounds.

"I'm sorry, baby, you'll have to wear this until we can get somewhere a bit safer and bind you up," Logan said. He wrapped her in his arms while he talked to the other soldiers. Logan learned that they were waiting for the rest of the platoon to come back. They had gone to see about the rest of Logan's group, and he had to break the news that he was the only one alive.

There was a moment of silence before one of the men gestured to Safiya's shivering form. "Who's that?"

"My girlfriend. She was caught about 8 weeks ago and they tortured her to get information out of me."

"What did they do to her back?" Another soldier asked.

"Whipping. 300 lashings over 2 months" The men winced, and Logan knelt in front of her again, stroking the hair out of her face. "You doing okay there?"

She looked up at him. "You were right."

Logan frowned. "About what?"

"They came," Safiya said, giving him a small smile. She reached up, cupping his face with shaking hands. "They came for us."

He kissed her as she started crying. "I know, Baby. We're out. We made it. We got out."

Another group ran up and she flinched, trying to hide behind him.

"Dead ... starting to liquify ... hostiles are cleared ... truck coming in 6 ..."

Logan pulled Safiya into his chest, trying to shield her from the information he was receiving. She only caught bits of what was being said, she was still trying to accept the reality of the situation. The next 2 hours were a blur. She was put onto a truck while Logan helped her into spare clothes, buttoning up a shirt and putting her bloody feet into shoes. 5 body bags were hauled in before everybody else clambered in before the truck started moving. She was numb, staring at the wall as she bounced along.

At some point, Safiya's shackles were pried off and she was taken to the medical tent. The medic swore as he looked at the body before him. Deep wounds that cut down to the muscle and bone, words etched into her arms and stomach, what looked like cigarette burns all over her body, stab wounds in her thighs and sides, and a branding mark on her hip that was still blistering.

Her lacerations were cleaned, disinfected and covered and her burns were treated as she passed out on the table. Logan sat beside her the whole time before the medic turned to him. His shirt was pried off, the medic treating his own 200 lashings. Already mostly healed, they were cleaned, disinfected and covered. His were burns treated with gels.

Neither of their stab wounds were sewn up, the medic explaining that with the depth and age of the wounds, they would probably be sealing in bacteria, increasing the risk of infection. He relayed that if the wounds were infected, they would be easier to drain and would heal faster if they were not closed. When prompted, the medic explained that closing the wounds, even if they weren't infected, wouldn't reduce future scarring.