Mass Effect: Reaper Dreams

Broken

"Of pain you could wish only one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes."

George Orwell

March 17th, 2188

Dr. Gavin Archer

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The noise wouldn't stop. Gavin couldn't isolate it. He'd tried, looked all over the cold lab, under the tables, checked all the wiring, and all the instruments. He'd even gone over the entire space with a microfrequency meter. It simply wasn't there. He had to be imagining it. He felt like he was losing his mind.

And who could blame him after what that evil bitch had put him through? He shuddered at the thought of her. He held up his left hand, flexed the artificial joints, watching the servos adjust the little metal rods that had replaced his fingers. He was fortunate that the Cerberus doctors had managed to save his right hand, though he didn't want to look at it for fear that he couldn't stomach the sight. After all, the skin grafts hadn't completely healed.

He flashed back to the heat of the torch, the unimaginable pain, the smell of burning flesh, and the sound of Commander Nicholas's sickening laughter. Despite the near freezing temperatures in the cold lab, a single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped from his brow. Panic seized him when he realized that she was coming back soon. She could be here any day, and he hadn't made much progress. He dared not disappoint her, in fact, he'd been holding onto a piece of information he hadn't shared with anyone else, just to please her.

Suddenly, the urge to keep it secret overwhelmed him. Why was he entertaining these foolish thoughts? It was madness to withhold information from Commander Nicholas, utter madness! Yet, he had no choice. There was that damn noise again. Where the hell was it coming from? No, no, he couldn't give it up to Nicholas. That piece of information was his one chance to be free. It wasn't a rational thought, but he couldn't shake it.

The cold lab com channel buzzed. It was Petrovsky.

The General made a request. "Dr. Archer, could you dress down and meet me in cell block two?"

As usual, he spoke in a polite, dignified tone. All the interactions Gavin had with the man were professional. Of course, it was all for show. Just because he refused to get his own hands dirty didn't make him any less of a monster. Even if it wasn't exactly his style, everything that Nicholas had done to Gavin had been approved, and perhaps even ordered by Petrovsky.

He limped to the foyer. The left knee was still inflamed, painful. It was never going to be the same again. Gavin used the haptic key-in to input his codes, and then waited while the decontamination units did their work. The hissing of steam unnerved him. It reminded him too much of something Nicholas had employed early on in their instructional sessions.

While he changed out of his cold lab garments he felt a tingling at the back of his skull. The noise was gone now, but that was no comfort. Suddenly, the fear of Nicholas overwhelmed him. These last few weeks without her on his back had allowed him to regroup and regain a portion of his humanity. When she returned, she'd take it away again, along with his last shred of dignity. He'd allow her, of course. He had no choice.

He hated her, but he'd do anything for her, anything to prevent more pain. Well, except for tell her that little bit of information that was probably important. That he could keep to himself, the one last thing he could call his own. The only thing that he didn't have to give her. Heaven knows he'd given her everything else. He finished dressing in his prisoner garb, reflecting on his circumstances with bitterness.