Regret

Translator Batez studied the unconscious gladhand with interest. She'd always held a deep fascination with the human body and how much pain it could take before it passed out or died. She supposed such interests were a little less than normal, but being an interrogation artist meant such knowledge was valuable. Knowing exactly how much pain someone could take was pretty much Batez's job. This particular victim had sustained a skull fracture, a broken nose, some missing teeth, several dislocated joints all along the upper body, and some internal bleeding around the ears from the blows to the side of his head. His collar bone was also broken in two places and it sounded like part of his upper ribs might have at least cracked if not completely broken. No doubt there was some damage to his spine from literally being knocked around, then of course, though it went without saying, his face was a mess. As she continued to study him, Batez saw one of his severely blackened eyes twitch open feebly and, through the rivulets of red that ran down his face, she could see him watching her.

Batez felt an unwarranted sense of pity and regret. Perhaps it was because this was pain she hadn't meant to inflict. He was supposed to be unconscious, not still awake! And instead of pushing away her pity, like she usually would, she picked up her baton off the floor again and smacked it against her palm several times. The boy in the chair got the message loud and clear and he began to whimper and whine, clearly afraid that he was about to receive another translation for the crime of not having been knocked out the first time.

"Don't worry," Batez told him softly, accent softening as she dropped the psycho-cop act. The gladhand heard this change in her voice and he seemed to understand right away. He shut his one eye in resignation and lowered his head. Again, Batez felt her heart ache, but she brushed the feeling aside and raised the baton high...

Now he was out. Batez stared at him for several minutes more before calling somebody to clear him out. In just five minutes, the boy had been carted off and Batez's room was free of any and all bloodstains. It still frightened her, the efficiency and speed in which Heaven worked was unlike anything she'd seen before and the realization that she was always one tiny mistake away from suffering the same fate made her ill. Seriously, her office had been covered in blood and now, just five minutes later, not even the scent remained. That was how good Heaven was at cleaning up cases like this and that was because Heaven did this often. It was how it kept its people in line and technically nobody was above such a gruesome fate. Not even Batez, the distributor of this punishment. She had never wanted this. She had never wanted to join Heaven's brutal police.

When she first arrived in Heaven as an innocent applicant, Batez had been so full of joy and wonder and Bentz was her closest companion. The two were even willing to become working horses if it meant they got to stay together and enjoy Heaven's splendor as one, despite cast seven being such a low position. But then something happened... Some other bratty applicant had bullied her and Bentz to the point in which they fought back. They fought back with incredible strength and perfect timing together, just as in sync in the art of war as they were in everything else.

Batez still remembered the sick thrill she got from seeing the bully squirm under her power. She also remembered the regret she felt later on when she realized how badly she and her partner had hit the applicant. The girl ended up suffering several internal bleeding spells and a lot of broken bones and all over a stupid insult. Granted, it had been far from the first offense but when Batez saw the true extent of the damage she had inflicted, she cursed the bloodlust within her that had allowed her to get it that far in the first place. It had been too late for apology though, because God himself had seen the fight and, instead of punishing Batez or Bentz, he offered them spots as future Translators. Initially, they had refused, but God threatened them with a horrible fate and a punishment for the violence if they dared defy him. The way he saw it, offering the two hotheads a job as his beasts of prey was his way of forgiving them for their sins of wrath. It would be foolish of them to deny his free gift of salvation. Needless to say, they took up his offer to become Translators without further hesitation.

For the next few months, Batez and Bentz studied together and didn't half mind the work they had to do. At least not until they had to train in translations. Batez shuddered as the memory of every lesson in the art of interrogation, punishment and torture. Back then, every lesson left her feeling sick and evil and she spent many nights cursing herself and everything she did and didn't do. Back then, the screaming had nearly driven her mad and the smell and taste and feeling of blood had made her sick. Back then, the gratuitous violence and the refusal to listen to someone's defense had been deplorable in her eyes. Being able to knock someone out was her favorite part just because it put everyone out of their misery. Even still today, there were moments when the old Batez came back and she bitterly regretted every blow she had to inflict upon anyone. She could see in Bentz's slightly crazed eyes that he felt the same.

This harsh, thankless job took so great a toll on the two that by the time they became true Translators, they were slightly mad. They justified themselves as good people because they only punished the guilty and they were trying to keep Heaven in line and they were following God's holy word. They would tell these lies to themselves just to stay sane and then they would treat every translation as a game instead of an act of police brutality. Of course, deep down, both of them understood exactly what they were doing and wanted desperately to be free of the evil position they were forced to hold, but God's threat still loomed over them so they rewired themselves to become psychotic and, for the most part, it worked. They brainwashed themselves into becoming sadistic, their old sense of compassion fading into nothingness.

Batez looked around her office, again amazed by its cleanliness. This could happen to me, she though miserably and the old pain that kept her going returned. She picked up her newly cleaned baton, free of blood and torn skin, and looked at it in disgust. She regretted ever fighting that applicant. Look where it got her! It got her to a life of fear, self-loathing, and constant guilt over the evil she did and the fact that she was helpless to stop any of it, lest she lose her life. Or worse, Bentz's life... Yes, God had been cruel enough to threaten Bentz if Batez ever slipped up.

Batez remembered finding the bravery to request a new job in Heaven and God had replied that she could indeed lose her Translator role, so long as she was willing to lose Bentz too. Suffice to say, that terrified Batez right back into place. She would die without her best friend and partner and husband. So now, for her sake and his, she held out through every horrid translation by telling herself that it was all good fun.

"Batez!" Batez looked up from her meditation to see Bentz running at her. "We got a new translation up on floor three! Some girl was caught stealing!" he said. "We got naysayers to press! Ya heard it?" he asked. Batez had long since forced her face into the same horrid grin that she always wore nowadays and, like a well-trained dog, replied to his call.

"I heard it," and she grabbed her baton and followed Bentz from their shared office up to level three.

AN: OOC fic wherein Batez actually does have a heart and regrets her actions even though I personally believe that she and Bentz both love their job. This was just to put a Nathan Wallace spin on the characters.