Meadowlark

Chapter 19

Zeal didn't expect to be stuck in a secluded cell away from everyone else, but here they were. Nobody knew where to stick them, so monitoring them individually would have been the best plan. The whole reason they hadn't attempted to escape 3 days in was because they knew that Bellamy wouldn't get out of this unscathed, and they were waiting for an opportunity to strike. She was kicking and screaming when she was brought in, and she kept insisting she was innocent, even when it was clear to them that she'd either taken part or staged the whole thing. It was perfect, really. They could finally get everything they wanted. Everything that should have been theirs from the get go. 

That's no to say it wasn't agonisingly painful to do nothing for so long. They mostly sat in the sad excuse for space and picked at the mildew on the walls, ate mediocre food that was either frozen solid or vomit inducing, and got paraded around a barren yard filled with mostly wood chips, their orange uniform acting as a beacon for the guards. They saw Pascal sometimes, but they never got enough time together to have a proper conversation. But they would soon. They kept telling him that they had EVERYTHING under control, and he wholeheartedly believed them.

They didn't have a good reputation with the guards because they had to lurk around them SPECIFICALLY, and complained about how difficult and snarky they were. Zeal would always have to snap out of their planning and do the most annoying thing they could, so that nobody would dare to stay more than a minute in their presence. In this case, they grabbed a small pile of stones from the grimy wall on their right, and smashed them onto the drain in front of them repeatedly. It was disruptive to the other prisoners, and they knew that. But it was worth it. Especially when they heard the jangling of keys bouncing off the leg of a particularly sour gentleman who couldn't even look their way without grimacing.

"You should be asleep, " He hissed. "I still don't understand why we didn't stick you with everyone else. You're not that special and it's 4:00 at night. Are you going to get ANY sleep?"

Zeal scoffed, and let out a small "ha," before trying to fit their arms outside of the bars, leaning their head against them, mockingly. "Would now be a bad time to tell you I'm intersex? Think deep about that one, buddy." But before the officer could react, they shrank down and tried to look meek in the corner of the cell "I just...fell so...sad that I'm here. Everyone's so...mean to me." They squeaked. 

Even as a person pushing 40, they had retained quite a youthful appearance so sometimes they were able to get away with things they shouldn't. But not this time, and they were alone soon enough. They...wouldn't admit it, but they did feel better when people were actually talking to them. They took the group for granted, but now...they'd take anything to have Umbriel anger them or have Wolfgang obnoxiously play his trumpet in their ear. And, instead of just brushing it off, they fell asleep, curled into a ball, letting the tears fall. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was rainy by the time the prisoners were let out of the yard. A thick downpour soaked them through, and, despite everyone just wanting to go inside, the guards wouldn't budge and simply surveyed the mess of miserable people. Zeal could catch Bellamy's eyes from there, sticking out like fireflies in a midnight haze. She'd seemed angrier the past few days, but in a different sort of way. Closed off. Unwavering. She was prepared for something, too. Unfortunatley, she was yelling at Pascal, who they couldn't recognise at first, with his normally springy blond curls deflated from the moisture. 

"IF YOU'D JUST STAYED LOYAL TO ME, NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE EVER HAPPENED. I WOULD BE FREE. WE WOULD." She boomed, taking step, after menacing step, her shoes sloshing in the mud of what little green space they actually had. Pascal was stepping back each time she dared make a move, arms out in front of him to try to push her away.

"You were too much. I kept telling you there were boundaries, and you didn't listen. I found someone who actually CARES, and instead of just accepting that this was entirely your fault, you pin it on Zeal like they somehow maliciously tempted me into being their lover!" Pascal's voice was grave, but steadily rising. He had a big temper, sometimes, something that would normally be foreign to such a fun-loving man, and Zeal had known him long enough to know when it would simmer to the surface. 

"WE HAD A FAMILY. YOU LET OUR SON BE TAKEN AWAY. YOU NEGLECTED ME INSTEAD OF JUST BREAKING THINGS OFF. AND INSTEAD OF AT LEAST PICKING SOMEONE RESPECTABLE, YOU DECIDED TO SKIP AROUND WITH A FUCKING TRANN-" And that's when Pascal snapped, seizing the moment before Zeal could, and tackled her to the ground. Zeal took a lingering glance at the guards, but they'd picked the worst time to be preoccupied by an alert going out on the other side of the building. So all they could do was watch. 

Pascal preferred weapons. They were efficient, and got the job done quick. But, in this situation, there was nothing better than using his own bare hands. He'd done combat like this before, but none of it was as satisfying at this very moment. He made it so she couldn't lift herself up from the muddy ground, then grasped her throat with both hands and put a sickening weight on her trachea, causing her to sputter and cough. The other prisoners watched, slowly herding themselves into a circle around them, either cheering or looking horrified at the gruesome display. Zeal stood a ways outside, just enough to see the shapes writhing on the ground. So Kit was wrong. It was Pascal all along, and they'd been too ignorant to notice. Because instead of seeing the soft grey eyes of their lover, all they saw were the narrowed slits of a sickening snake, prepared to swallow them whole. 

Bellamy stopped breathing after a few minutes, and her body was still, static, the face of horror etched in her face. But she deserved it, didn't she? Didn't she? Pascal didn't moved for a few minutes, just surveyed the damage he'd cased. Then, with shaky hands, he slid the wedding ring off her finger and padded through the grass to slip it onto Zeal's. Its correct place. Where it should have been. 

"I fixed it." Pascal said, his voice hoarse and scratchy. "Everything is as it should be."

Zeal stared at the ring on their finger, glittering. It had a diamond in the middle, and looked to have been quite expensive. But at the same time...they knew that it was only presented to her in the first place because of the family ties. Because of a need. Not a want. 

"Everything," Zeal narrowed their eyes at Pascal, and whispered in his ear, their breath hot. "Is perfect now." 

For now.