The Innocent (A 'Finder' Fanfiction)

Gemini - Chapter 3

Whenever his men visited the prisoner, they howled and screamed, they banged against the steel door, they kicked and hit him. If – once the noise and flashlights were switched off to teach him the meaning of darkness and solitude – he found some few seconds of sleep, they ripped him from it violently.

They tossed buckets of icy water at him, and that, what remained on the floor and drenched his clothes, would often enough be all that he'd get to drink. They shoved him around, slammed him against the walls, pulled his hair out, strangled him.

Yet, the boy did not beg. Occasionally, when the horror or pain became too much, he would cry and pant, but he remained silent in all of that.

When Aaron came to him, however, he would walk quietly, he would turn the key in the lock with caution, would open the door slowly and carefully. For days, he just sat in the entrance. The first time he had left the small lamp there, and had not waited for Aki..., no, Arata to take it. The second time he had visited, he had left him superb, flesh-colored earplugs and had expressed his sorrow that he could not get the prisoner a pillow or a sleeping-mask. All of that, he had explained to Arata, the other men would notice, when they came in here to awaken and torment him. They would wonder where he got it from, who was betraying them ... The third and fourth time it had been water Aaron had brought. Fresh and clear from a bottle that he opened for the weakened young man, who did not react whatsoever – he just lay there, huddled into the corner, hiding his face, shaking.

"I'll leave it here for you. I'll lock the door and will be back in half an hour. I think we have that much time. You can drink in peace. And I will just come back to get the bottle. They cannot find it with you, Arata", he had whispered, speaking slowly and amiable.

He could act all that kindness and concern – and it would just be as false as the act Alex' put on every day. Yet, his twin enjoyed and loved all that make-believe. Aaron didn't. He only put on a role, when it was necessary.

The boy had not reacted to any of that. Not in the first week, not in the second, in which Aaron had smuggled him some slices of apples, some strawberries, some sweets, while the other men tormented and haunted him. Whenever Aaron came to the cell, the noise would be switched off, the flashes would end, and no one would hurt him. Yet when he left, there was no peace, no safety possible.

In the fifth week, the boy looked up for the first time. He had been beaten severely the day before. His cheeks and chin were bruised, his nose had bled, his lips had been torn open by some knuckle. The dirty black pajamas were ripped and torn, and all the buttons now lay somewhere in the cell, hidden by the darkness.

The men had yelled at him in Russian, had spat at him, had strangled him. Then they had turned the noise even louder and the flashlight had been left on for three whole days. But now, when Aaron entered and stepped inside quietly, the inferno had finally been switched off.

He brought a small bowl and a towel. Both, he placed on the floor as far away from the prisoner as the tiny cell allowed. And there, at that moment, one eye looked at him from beneath badly cut hair. It was the first reaction he had ever got.

"Arata", he hummed ever so softly. "I have brought you some warm water and a towel. I am so sorry I can't protect you here. I can't get you out yet. But I promise you, I will."

With measured, cautious movements, he pushed both presents across the floor towards the prisoner.

"I have to take that away later, but I'll leave you with it", he whispered in resignation and despair. Then he got up and sneaked back to the door again.