Sacrifices

Chapter 9: Love Like A Hurricane

A/N: Please note the change in rating. Warnings for sexual content, rape/non-con, and coercion. Hopefully by now it is somewhat obvious where this chapter is headed. I know it is a tough pill to swallow. It can be skipped if you don't wish to read it. There are some difficult chapters after this but none are quite as heart wrenching.

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As Jackie pulled the heavy metal door opened, she was met with the quiet hum of the Prydwen's engines. The absence of movement and the lack of sound confirmed her suspicions of the late hour. The usual sharp clap of boots on the steel floor and idle chatter from soldiers milling about was distinctly missing. Even in the dead of night, the ship seemed to buzz with activity.

Tonight however, was the exception.

In the vacant hallways, a sparse few soldiers were making their nightly rounds, but the remaining troops who had avoided a stay in the greybar motel down at the airport, had settled in their bunks for the evening.

Jackie flinched at the thunderous clang of her door closing. Sure that if the sudden noise didn't wake the entire ship, than the vibrations of the cavernous echo would. A glance over her shoulder and the halls were empty. She was alone. Despite her shaking hands, Jackie breathed a sigh of relief because she hated knowing that the entire crew was aware of what she was up to.

Even though she tried to float along like a whisper in the wind, there were no secrets in the Brotherhood. Whatever the others thought of her, Jackie tried not to let it get to her. All of it, even the most heinous of rumors, perpetuated the lie. That she had executed Danse. Murdered him in cold blood without remorse. So she allowed it, because it maintained the deception they had created. If the crew believed Danse was dead, then he could continue on with what little dignity he had left. At least it meant he was still breathing.

It wasn't without trepidation that Jackie treaded along the wall to the door that lay just beyond her own. Her pulse silently pounded in her ears and she wondered if the air had always been this thin inside the ship. It was as if a dark shadow was perched on her chest, crushing the oxygen out of her lungs. Her fingers twisted tighter and tighter around clammy palms and the knot in her gut felt much the same.

The voice of reason argued that it wasn't too late to run. Turn around and hightail it back to her quarters, or better yet, make one last valiant jailbreak and perhaps she would even make to Danse before she was gunned down. But the voice of madness won over and seamlessly fed her the lie that if she did this it would mean something. That come tomorrow they might all walk away unscathed. She had to do this. There was no other option. All other outcomes ended in death and continued suffering.

As she drew closer to the door, the heaviness in her chest grew and she blinked to maintain her composure. Having already decided that she would not allow herself to feel anything other than a sense of duty to fulfill this objective. At last the door loomed in front of her. The gateway to the underworld.

Jackie closed her eyes and breathed in, releasing herself with her breath. Her hands fell to her sides and her fingers flexed. Once. Twice. And with a roll of her shoulders she was no one. She let it all go. She would allow herself to feel nothing because she was nothing.

A final breath and Jackie swallowed her pride. With tightness in her jaw, she raised a shaking hand to rap her knuckles on the cool metal. But instead of the steady knock of her fist, her palm pressed against the door and she leaned her forehead on the steel.