Thomas Hewitt: End Of The Line

Haven't We Lost Enough?

From the bottom of the stairs Thomas cursed himself as he stared up at the door to their cage. He bolted to it, grabbed the handle and pulled until his hands bled, but it wouldn't give. It was then that he resorted to pounding on it with his fists. He knew it would do nothing to get them out, it was simply rage overtaking him and not just at his older brother, but at his own weakness. He should have killed him, he shouldn't have turned away.

"Thomas," Ronnie said weakly from below, "it's no use. You're just hurting yourself."

He ignored her and instead, kicked the metal frame until he'd left several dents. He knew Hoyt was on the other side, standing smug as he listened to Thomas' protest. He wanted so badly for the door to collapse and smother that satisfied grin off his face once and for all.

"Dammit, Tommy stop. It's what he wants," he heard her shout.

He let his fist hit the metal one last time, clenched tightly and shaking against the hardened structure. He turned swiftly and admitted defeat. Ronnie was right, no amount of brute force was going to open that door. They were stuck. He descended the stairs and his eyes fell upon her again. She was staring up at the hooks, she didn't have much of a choice but to study them. He quickly reached up and shamefully collected the masks that were hanging to hide them from her view. She watched him stuff them into a drawer and hang his head over his work table. She knew he was just as defeated as she was, it didn't take much to pick up on that. The way his fists clenched and unclenched on the surface of the table was enough of a give away.

"It's not your fault, Tommy," she said softly.

He let out a frustrated sigh as he shook his head. No words she said would convince him otherwise, but he wouldn't fault her for trying. It was in her nature, though she was the one chained down, she couldn't help but be his comforter. She was selfless, she always had been and he was so damn selfish for ever having kept her there. He had allowed this to happen, he had had every opportunity to prevent it. If he could have gone back and taken her to Santa Fe himself, he would have. He should have put that tire back on and turned the car around for her. He had always known she wouldn't make it past Hoyt, yet he let her go just to have her end up there with him. It should have been him on that table and he couldn't bring himself to look at her without immense guilt.

Ronnie looked at her wrists and pulled at the braces, wincing at the way the metal ground into her bones. She had only been lying like that for minutes but the pressure of being on her back was starting to set in.

"We have to get these off," she said distractedly as she pulled at them.

She was far enough along in her pregnancy to know she couldn't stay like that for long. Dizziness had already begun to fill her head and a feeling of breathlessness took hold.

"There has to be somethin' we can use to pick the locks, or cut 'em. I can't stay like this, Tommy, it's bad for the baby," she said as she set her head back down again.

Of course it was, Thomas thought to himself as he glared up at the ceiling. He was positive that bastard knew it too. He began to rummage through the mess on the table in search of anything that could free her. Naturally, the key wasn't there. He hadn't expected it to be, but he internally cursed Hoyt for it nonetheless. In one of the drawers he found an Allen wrench. He held it up and glanced over at her chains. It looked far too thick to possibly fit, but he wasn't going to give up that easily. He strode over and gently lifted her wrist up to shove it into the lock. Just as he thought, it wasn't going to work. His frustration wouldn't let up though, he forced it in until it no longer budged. Ronnie strained her head up to see he'd almost broken the little wrench in two. Finally, he let go of it and resorted to pulling at either side of the brace with his own hands.