Shattered Innocence

Haunted Scars and Shared Redemption

I watch the slow, even rise of Nora's chest worriedly. The things we saw in her memories... No wonder she ran and didn't want to help us. No wonder Zack kept her close. She wasn't just the first experiment; she was the worst. I can't even imagine everything she went through, but seeing those snippets was enough to know that this woman lying in the hospital bed before me is a fighter. A survivor. She deserves to be free of this life and her past, not dragged back to it, but that's her choice, and I won't make it for her. It might help her let go if she is able to destroy what he did, or maybe it won't help at all.

Only time will tell, and I will keep a close eye on her to make sure her mental health isn't affected by this mission. I have my own personal mission now—to save Nora and ensure she has the life she deserves. It is clear her father, her family, or the world has never given her anything, but I will. I'll help her find her place and her happiness, even if it takes years. The doctor in me feels the need to give something back to this sweet suffering soul and prove the world isn't all bad. Nora craves love and a home. That much is obvious. I'll help her get that.

I stand softly and check her blood pressure again. I gave her some fluids to counteract all the drugs she was given, and I've also checked her heart and head to make sure everything is okay. It is physically, but the mental pain? I can't do much yet. Now, we just need her to wake up. I kicked the others out, not wanting her to be overwhelmed when she wakes up. She will probably be embarrassed, and maybe even lash out because of that, feeling vulnerable and off-kilter.

I've also lowered the lights to change the room from something clinical to cozy. I spotted the layout of her father's lab from her memories, which is similar to this one. No wonder she didn't want to come in here. It's probably a trigger for her, like chains are for me.

Her blood pressure is normal, so I sit back and double-check all the medical details I have on her while I wait for her to rouse. A lot is missing from her childhood since only the public files are available. Hopefully, when I find her father's notes, there will be more. It leaves me blind, however, and wondering if she has any undiagnosed illnesses or broken bones.

I wouldn't put it past him. There was another one of us that we found as a child, who was left with chronic pain from purposely broken and unfixed hands, ribs, legs—not to mention all the internal scarring from procedures. Eventually, it got to be too much for him. I tried to help, and we got him morphine—well, actually, we stole it, and that's when we came up on the military's radar—but even then, it wasn't enough.

He was in so much pain all the time. Not that he would admit it, but we saw it. It drained what was left of him, and he was unable to fight. He couldn't take it anymore. He killed himself by stepping in front of a bus. I close my eyes in pain at the memory. I was only a teenager, but I should have done more. There had to have been something, anything, other than just ending it. I carry that guilt and blame, and I know the others do as well, especially Mikhail. He made his choice, but we have to live with the consequences.

A slight change in Nora's even breaths jerks me from my memories, and I blink my eyes open, sit up, and push away all those thoughts so they aren't as obvious on my face. She needs me to help. They all do. I need to be their rock, but they have no idea that I'm crumbling myself. Her eyes slowly open, hazy and disoriented. Dragging her tongue across her lips, she tries to sit up and groans when she falls. I catch her then gently prop her up with some pillows.

"Slowly, Nora," I murmur, and her head turns as she meets my eyes. The pain, embarrassment, and fear in her eyes undoes me. I stare, unable to look away, until her lashes cover her gaze, and when she looks at me once more, her eyes are empty. Her guard is up again.

"What—" Her voice cracks. Turning, I grab water and press the cup to her lips, tipping it. She drinks as she watches me.

"Only sip a little. We don't want you to be sick," I caution.