After Maison Blanche

Chapter 2

The dread in Marlena's stomach grew as she was led through a secret panel in the wall under the stairs, and into a dank, basement. It seemed ancient. Older than the house itself, it seemed. The scent was an overwhelming mix of earth, mold, and dampness. "Where are we going?" she asked Celeste softly, hearing her voice echo in the space around her.

    "John is refusing to eat, until he can see for himself that you are well," Celeste said, pulling a set of keys from her pocket. She pulled the heavy metal door aside, and gripped Marlena's arm firmly, pushing her inside, and tossing a bag of supplies in after her. "He's been partially sedated, so don't think of trying to escape. Stefano wants John's wrists tended to, and you need to reassure him that you are fine. You have one hour."

    The door closed with a long metal scrape, and Marlena's eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness of the room. It smelled strongly of human sweat. She noted a toilet in the corner, and a small sink. There was nothing else, besides a small framed bed, and a light blanket. John sat on the floor. Chains hung from the wall with shackles attached. He looked up at her with a soft smile, "Doc...I thought I was dreaming."

    "John," she said softly, approaching him slowly. All around him along the wall and across the floor, she saw Doc scraped into the stone. How long had it taken him to do this? What had he done it with? Then she noticed his wrists, and realized, he'd done it with his manacles. She had to get him onto the bed somehow, and then look him over. She wasn't sure exactly what Stefano thought she might accomplish in this dim light. "John, can you stand?"

    He reached for her face with filthy fingers, and he whispered, "I dreamt you were here, Doc."

    "I am," she said with tears in her eyes. She reached for the metal frame of the bed, and dragged it toward the sink, placing her closer to the water source, and she rushed back to John's side. "Can you stand?"

    John smiled at her with a dazed expression, "Do I have to?"

    "I'd like you to," she whispered, pushing the sweaty hair back from his forehead. "I'd like to get you onto the bed, and see if I can't get you cleaned up a bit."

    John slowly pushed himself to his knees, and Marlena used every bit of strength she had to get him upright. John leaned on her heavily as she led him toward the bed on the other side of the room. John buried his face in her fragrant hair, and he said on a sob, "You shouldn't be here."

    "I thought you'd called me," she whispered, getting him awkwardly onto the cot. "I thought you needed me."

    John was quiet, trying to gather his thoughts through the haze of the drug he'd been injected with, finally saying, "I didn't call. Stefano must have used a recording of my voice."

    Marlena sat beside him, smoothing her cool palm over his face, and she whispered, "I realized I was tricked when I woke this morning." She stood to grab the bag Celeste had tossed into the room with her. Rummaging through it, she found a towel, wash cloths, and basic first aid supplies, as well as soap. There was also a clean pair of pants.

    Using one of the washrags to stop the sink, Marlena ran water into the basin. It was cold, but it was all she had. She started to unbutton John's pants, intent on getting them off of him, and he grabbed her wrists, "If you get the chance to get out of here. Run, Doc. You have to go, if you get the chance. Does Roman know you're here?"

    "Roman thinks, I've run off with you," she said softly. "He's not looking for me."

    John tried to sit up, "He knows you wouldn't do that. You wouldn't leave Sami or Belle...he knows that!"

    Marlena didn't respond to what John said. Roman wouldn't be looking for her. She knew that. He would assume she'd done the worst thing, because that was how it usually went with Roman. Assume the worst, and apologize when he was wrong. "Lay down, John," Marlena replied barely above a whisper. "You're weak. Have you eaten at all?"