staring down the sun

[32] this body holding me

Exhaustion. Pure exhaustion. Her entire body aches, her arms are sore from being tied behind her for so long, and her eyes are puffy from the cruel cycle of fighting back tears. Elena knows the bruises are already morphing into a kaleidoscope of colors over her skin, and the more she resists Obsidian's interrogations, the more frequent the hits come across her body.

It's been a few days since her last confession. And now seems like a good time to confess her sins...all of them. She closes her eyes with a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she silently apologizes to God. I lost sight of the greater good, she admits in her mind. I killed people. I lied. I failed to protect Connor and Murphy. I failed You.

Suddenly, the door opens, forcing Elena's eyes to widen. Two men enter, one dressed in black tactical gear who remains by the door with his arms crossed, while the other, clad in a dark grey suit, approaches her. He pulls the other chair over, setting it directly in front of her as he places his briefcase on the concrete floor by his feet. With a narrowed gaze, he smooths his navy blue tie as he sits down.

His tone is neither aggressive nor condescending...yet. "You know who I am, right?" Elena nods, and Darren Hawkins grins. "Good. Because I know who you are, too." His smile is evil, just like Nikolai's. "You're the 'therapist.'" he clarifies with finger quotes.

Elena holds her tongue, knowing she has to be the spy she used to be to try and still protect the boys.

Hawkins leans forward casually, clasping his hands together. "It's just that...I need to talk to someone." He rubs his jaw, a feigned sense of sincerity coating his tongue as he speaks. "With the election coming up, I'm worried that I'm not doing enough. Like, everyone expects me to clean up this mess that these fucking Irish vigilantes made. It's a lot, you know?"

Lips sealed, Elena feels her blood boil. And Hawkins can sense it, but she can't help the emotional response her tired body shows. The politician smirks. "Of course, you know. Because you helped them." He leans back calmly. "I have to admit, you're a feisty one, aren't you? Killing my men when all they wanted to do was talk after you pissed off Agent Walsh."

She should have known. She should have trusted that gut feeling she and Smecker had that night she brought the boys to the church. Her throat is dry as she pushes the question out. "Walsh works for you?"

"Initially, no. He was so hellbent on bringing the Saints back to prison, thought it'd bring him that promotion he'd been wanting. But you really pissed him off, and that was his first mistake: letting you go. So I paid him off, told him not to pursue you and the MacManus brothers in order to...let things play out."

She should have known.

Hawkins shakes his head, still smug as a motherfucker. "You and your sweet, killer leprechauns helped me clean house. Fuck, I gotta thank you! Eliminating Lombardo and his operation has allowed me to work the mafia in our favor. I mean, it's not like you all didn't already have blood on your hands."

Elena narrows her eyes. "Is that all you wanted? For the Saints to do your dirty work?" The politician smiles, and the silent rage builds in her chest again. "But those girls...Saint Agnes..."

"They were a message...to you, to your boys, to the world. The Saints are not here to save the day."

Elena tries to shift, pulling her wrists against the rope wrapped tightly around them, searching for a way to break free as she glares at Hawkins. "What do you want?"

His sadistic smile grows. "I wanted everything you know," he says, tapping Elena's forehead with his index finger. "All along, you were the one who would lure the Saints into doing what we want. Play to their religious calling, convince them they're destroying all that which is evil so that which is good shall flourish." He pauses momentarily, almost solemn, until that evil smile cracks across his face. "That's how it goes, right? Pretty sure that's what you wrote down." She holds her breath as she watches Hawkins reach into his briefcase, pulling out her black hardbound notebook. "This is what I wanted, Elena: your intimate knowledge of the MacManus brothers."