The Super Villain's Daughter

Part 4

ERICA

"Are you still bleeding?" My mother looked down at me with a disapproving expression.

I met her gaze without expression. I was only twelve but I knew what would happen if I spoke back. Seeming satisfied with my lack of reaction she dropped a package into my lap.

Confused, I opened it with one hand, the other clutching a rag against my thigh which had been slashed open during fighting practice. I knew that direct pressure was my only chance at slowing down the bleeding.

It wasn't like they were going to take me to a hospital.

To my surprise the package contained a few objects: antiseptic, sutures, and a small book with pictures explaining how to close wounds. I looked back up at my mother, not wanting to voice the question I wanted to ask.

"You have thirty minutes to sew up your wounds before we move on to poisons." Her voice was flat, her eyes making it clear what would happen if I didn't.

I looked down again, my eyes watering at the size of the needle. This was going to hurt.

"You will not receive any local anesthetics or narcotics to numb the pain. " My mother continued, noting my less than enthusiastic reaction. "Pain leads to strength, seeking relief from pain is weakness. Remember that."

She walked away, leaving me to stare daggers into her back.

One day.

One day I would take her down. Take them both down.

Sighing quietly to myself, I grabbed the kit, and prepared to sew on my thigh.

I woke up gasping in a strange room, my hand automatically reaching for the gun under my pillow, and meeting nothing but air. I struck out, my hand hitting a chest that was more like a brick wall. Panicked, I reared back to attack again.

"It's okay, Erica! It's me!" A familiar voice settled me enough to pause, to study my surroundings. We were in a large, open apartment, brightly lit. I was on a couch with someone sitting beside me, grasping my ankle.

It was Henry. I let out a small sigh of relief.

"What are you doing?" He had a jar of ointment on the table beside him, was applying it to my leg.

"You had a burn from the trap that they... from the electrified floor. The captain said you wouldn't want to go to the hospital, so when the field doctor cleared you I brought you back to my apartment."

He seemed uncomfortable, letting go of my leg and gently placing it back on the couch.

"I would have brought you to your place so you could be in familiar surroundings but I obviously don't know where you live and I didn't know what else to do...Crap." He hit his forehead. "I'm making a mess out of this."

"What's in the ointment."

"It's nothing dangerous!" He was quick to defend himself, although I really was only asking out of curiosity rather than suspicion. "It's a pain relieving ointment for the light burns. I didn't want you to be hurting when you woke up!"

His open face along with his simple explanation startled me. When was the last time someone had tried to keep me from hurting, tried to take pain away instead of causing it? It didn't take long for me to remember. It was back when we were kids and still thought we were brother and sister.

Henry always did worry whenever I got hurt.

I sat up, testing my arms and legs, mildly surprised that I felt no discomfort with the movement despite the burns from my parents' trap.