Who is to say what exactly a secret is? Elliot would define one as information concealed or unseen from general knowledge. One could suppose that what was considered a secret would depend on who it related to and the situations surrounding it at the time. There were many secrets on Sabatt, held by many people. Some of those secrets were meant to be kept. Others were meant to be told. A few were meant to be forgotten. A very select few were meant to be forgiven. Everyone had their secrets. It was just that some were better at keeping them.For years psychiatrists had been trying to unlock the Pandora's Box of secrets that Quentari held. And for years, they had failed. To learn the subject's secrets, the subject themselves must first know of them. Perhaps they are so tightly battened down that the subject forgets how near and dear they hold them. Erratic behavior often denoted the presence of a secret. Quentari was always erratic. It was with little trust held then, that he stared into the cafeteria. His gaze was fixated on a lone doctor. He debated entering of his own accord; an invitation would be better. So, he coughed to try and gain some attention.
Trust was the last phrase Dr. Joseff Jannsenn would have incorporated into a sentence revolving around Quentari. Unless it was a complete and total lack thereof. Joseff did not take kindly to attacks on himself or those he loved, be they implied or carried out. He took a sip of his water and rifled through some papers. He was doing his level best to ignore the perpetual psych ward patient in his quest for attention.
"D ... d ... doctor?" Quentari's voice quavered after he had summoned the courage to speak to him.
Joseff fought for control of the shake his hands had developed, just knowing that Quentari was around. "Quentari, get away from me."
"I ... I just wanted to say ... I ... I'm sorry ... " He sighed loudly enough to be heard. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."
"Quent, just leave me alone." It was all Joseff could do to remain even this civil to him.
"What I did was evil. And wrong. It's just that you were trying to take Mommy." He tried to give justification, like some petulant child.
"Quent, I wasn't taking anyone. Now leave me."
Slowly, Quentari turned away from the doctor's back and wept. "I miss her. I feel so awful about all the things I've done to you. I'm so sorry," he muttered. He walked towards the lobby again with a shuffling, defeated gait.
"I do too," the doctor said softly. A tear began a trail down his cheek. "Come back to me, Adeline."
Left alone, to their respective devices, one man tapped his fingers against the table, lost in thought and memory. The other stared at the door to the janitor's closet. A fist slammed into it and he screamed out in frustration. There wasn't anyone but mother who understood, and she wasn't here. She wasn't anywhere. Later, if someone asked why he had opened the closet and taken out the wrench, he wouldn't have been able to tell them. He wouldn't have been able to tell them why he went out into the street and hurled it towards the oblivion he was already living in his own mind. Concrete became aquatinted with bony knees as he fell to the ground and wept forcefully.
Dr. Adeline Frostt rose late. It was something she'd been doing almost too much of lately, and she wasn't exactly sure why. She dressed quickly, not thinking to pull her platinum hair into it's usual unforgiving bun, and rushed downstairs towards the ER. A stark white lab coat was tugged on. She rushed like she was a woman who was tardy for an appointment, that air of hurriedness; it was another newly cropped up trait. She didn't even see Joseff walking out of the cafeteria and ran right into him. "Joseff!" The exclamation was barely out of her mouth before she grabbed him into a hug.
He near collapsed into her. The man's arms encircled her, holding her tightly to him. Silently, he wondered who had heard his prayers. "I thought you left me ... I was near crazed."
Damn the man, and damn the weakness more. But he always seemed to bring it out of her. Her form trembled against him. "I was too worried," she said softly. "I ... I was out looking for Angel. I haven't seen her and I ... I'm sorry," she babbled, as she tended to do when emotion was high.
Joseff smiled at her and smoothed a palm across her cheek. "Let's go to the cafeteria and talk."
Quentari rocked himself back and forth in his huddle. He whispered one word over and over. "Mommy." There he stayed, shivering, until he had settled down enough for energy to allow him to stand. He found the wrench that he had flung and picked it back up. Eyes were raised to the Hospital before he began his return journey to lose himself in it's sterility.
"While I was out there," Adeline continued softly, "I remembered. So much ... not all of it ... but so much ... "
Joseff nodded, listening to every word she spoke. He took her hand and led her into the cafeteria. "Come, let's sit and catch up." There was something amiss, but he couldn't quite pinpoint just what it was. He smiled again at her, reassuringly. "I want to hear everything."
She blinked and nodded, that prim control back in her posture. "Yes, of course."
Their table was in a corner of the cafeteria. It was theirs because that was where they always happened to sit. He lead her there and sat in a chair next to her. He didn't let go of her hand. "So what have you remembered?"
She closed her eyes and took a breath, gathering her thoughts. It wasn't until she opened them again that she spoke. "Like so much smoke, Joseff. It's there, then it's gone."
Of course, he wanted to know about her. He wanted to know everything. Yet, somehow, none of that mattered right now. She was back; that was the only thing that mattered. "I'm glad you're back. Did you find Angel?"
Control and composure was fully regained in the schooled doctor. It was never very far away and could be implemented at the blink of an eye. "No. She ... she's fine, I'm sure."
"She knows how to take care of herself, Adeline."
Some say that there isn't a force in the world more powerful than someone staring at you. It doesn't matter who it is, where they are doing it from, or for how long they are engaging in the activity. You always know when you are being watched. Adeline knew as well. She could feel the eyes crawling over her as surely as if there was a beetle upon her neck. Her head snapped around and she found Quentari staring at her from the cafeteria door.
As Quentari mouthed a single word, Joseff squeezed Adeline's hand tightly.
It had begun. The first pitter patter of raindrops upon roofs had started just after Quentari had reentered the Hospital. It beat down upon a flitting shadow that inhabited the streets. Like a dragonfly without purpose, it went from rock to rubble, each place a slightly better hiding place than the last. Her goal was simple. It was the massive building across the street, with it's shining windows like beacons to her. Her bare feet left dark, wet footprints behind her in the mud. The rain plastered the oversized cloak against her anorexic frame. The hood kept her weary face hidden. She was skittish as she approached the main doors.
Adeline rose smoothly, easily, and quickly, before Joseff could make any motion to subdue her. It was with eagle's eyes that she watched Quentari during her approach. He still had the wrench, after all. He offered it to her with hands open, vulnerable. "I'm sorry."
Joseff watched, rapt in fascination and wariness. He shook his head. Sorry just wasn't enough.
A lovely hand reached out to take the proffered weapon from the violent man. "You've said that before, Quent. I trusted you." Her voice was quiet, but the emotion was clear.
He dropped to his knees and lowered his head sorrowfully. His eyes wept still and finally they blinked back up to her. "Mommy?"
Bared feet slapped against pavement and gravel. A sudden burst of speed that could never have been maintained carried the waif up the stairs. The doors whished open almost silently and she darted inward, into the antiseptic safety of the Hospital. Her breath was labored and rapid from the exertion. Impossibly wide eyes stared around at the lobby. She hugged the wall, trying to remember where it was that they kept the food. She was so hungry.
Churchmen. That's what Adeline saw. Flashes in her mind's eye of men before her, kneeling as Quent did now. Another photograph of the past that was mostly forgotten to her. She saw it all as weakness. In disgust, her upper lip curled. "Get out of my sight," she hissed. There was neither pity nor warmth in her stare or her words.
Quentari stood up and fled. The tears unmercifully stung his eyes as certainly as her words did. The ward is where he was bound, and he tore up the stairs, towards his only place of refuge.
A steady gaze of glacial blue followed him. It was unwavering and unforgiving. That ice, that hatred was there and aimed at the fleeing, crushed man before it shattered. Her eyes flew wide and a hand covered her mouth in shock. "What did I just do?" It was a ragged plea to anyone who might listen.
Joseff was dumbfounded by Adeline's actions and her words. He flinched as if the ice that surrounded her had punched out at him. "I ... I ... I'm sorry." It was an automatic response, his apology. He wasn't sure what it was, if anything, that he had done, but he wanted to be sure all of his bases were covered.
Adeline shook her head slowly, trying to find a grasp on the moment. Another perfectly formed hand rose to cover the other. "Monster maker ... " she whispered. Strength was no longer her ally, and had left her in a hurry. She flopped down into the chair next to Joseff and buried her head in his chest. "You didn't do anything," she continued in a whisper. "I told you I was a ... a ... a ... monster ... " She shook with the sobs she released.
"Shhh," he tried to soothe, to calm her. His arms slipped around her once more to hold her. "Shh, Adeline, my Adeline. Talk to me. What was it you went through when you saw Quent?"
"I saw the men."
"What men, doing what?" A psychiatrist he wasn't, but he was trying to help the woman he loved. A hand ran through her hair softly for encouragement.
Adeline shook her head again, hoping that would be the mechanism to erase the images. "Kraatinn ... he wasn't more than nineteen. A good guy ... loved his mother ... had some issues with girls his own age, but ... " She took a sharp, ragged breath. "He wouldn't kill. He wouldn't kill for them. By the time I got through with him ... They had to keep him locked up when he wasn't on the field ... he raped the bodies ... " She gagged.
Gently he held her, taking up a rocking rhythm. "You're not the same person. You're not a monster."
With a face that looked like it had just swallowed glass, she looked at him. "The instincts are still there. Twice now ... twice I could feel it. That damn power tripping."
"You're my Adeline, a doctor who cares and loves. You're not the same." He said that even though she'd just told Quentari to get out of her sight. A doctor who cared ... ? He didn't see.
She closed her eyes, utterly convinced of her self-proclaimed monstrosity. "I could feel it, Joe. I could have crushed him. If he hadn't left, I would have." A vicious fist was made at her side. "I know I don't need to. I don't want to. I can't be trusted. I'll hurt someone. They ripped off my wings ... "
"Then let me be your wings ... Anyone can hurt someone. Even meek and soft-hearted me."
She looked to him then, her eyes searching for something she couldn't identify. "I made my husband commit suicide. That's what I didn't say before. I remembered him and how I killed him."
Just as she was solid in her resolve, so was he in his. "So now we know your dark, hidden past. I don't care. I still love you. That's not the you I met. You did bad things once, but you do good things now. You're the surrogate mother of an Angel." He had spied the wisp of a person's entrance into the cafeteria. Rather, he had spied the dirt sodden and water laden cloak that moved through the cafeteria. There was only one person he knew of that would match that description. And that person was currently shoveling stew into her face as fast as her hands would allow. "And she's here."
Adeline pulled her head up quickly to scan the cavernous room. "Where?" She stiffened.
He pointed to the huddled form under a table. "Love me. And trust in my love for you. And love Angel. And let that love you build fill your life. You complete me, Adeline" He smiled tenderly and kissed her cheek. "You're my Angel. And she's yours. Go see Angel. Make sure she's all right."
Slowly, she nodded, in somewhat of a haze from his words. They were comforting, blanketing and she so much wanted to believe them. To not be afraid, to not hide any longer. But she couldn't ... she just wasn't there inside of herself, and therefore, no one else was allowed to be there either.
The lump of cloth with the slurping sounds stayed the only way she knew how to be. Hidden and silent. The woman doctor's laments had scared her and kept her frozen in place. She always painted pictures in her mind when bad things happened, and by now, she was quite the accomplished and skilled artiste. A canvas unfolded before her some time ago, and vibrant colors seen only in books now were splashed upon it. She was rocking in time with the couple and hummed to herself during her dual work. There wasn't a hint of haze or dust in the sky or on the ground in this mental picture. Just glorious hues of blue and green under twin suns.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?" Adeline asked the girl softly, kneeling down under her table.
Even the gentle tones of Adeline's voice startled her out of her reverie. The bowl clattered to the floor. She all but threw herself in the opposite direction. Damp spiky hair was revealed as the hood fell away. Her elven features were marred by a singular black eye. She crouched low, tangled in a chair.
A sad frown creased Adeline's face as she watched the reaction. It only deepened at the bruise. "Gods, little one. Someone h ... hit you?" A fist began to form behind her back out of anger.
There was nothing but a blur of muted colors and a flurry of cloth. Angel launched herself at Adeline, tackling her in a bone-crushing hug. Adeline sprawled out onto the hard tile floor - in a completely undignified move - and returned the embrace. She was a little shocked, but none the worse for wear. "I scared you." She grunted a bit with the forced effort and rose to her feet, with the girl wrapped securely around her.
She hadn't even realized Joseff had vacated the room, much less returned. He offered out some cream for the moused eye, some aspirin for the headache she surely must have, and a sweet treat.
"We'll take her down to the ER for a full check ... " Her eyes drifted to Angel, full of worry. Angel didn't answer, couldn't answer. If not for her lack of tongue, then for her face being buried in Adeline's shoulder. "It's all right, darling," she soothed, her hand stroking the spiky tufts of white hair. Adeline regarded Joe over her shoulder as she started for the ER. Dutifully, he followed.
"Can I put you down here on the table?" Adeline asked the girl as they slipped into a cubicle. Angel nodded shyly in response and blinked in the harsh lights of the ER. The former Monster Maker of the Church had a decidedly different touch as she carefully laid the girl down. "Will you trust Joe with looking at you?" she whispered. "I trust him."
With the exception of the smudge of dirt on Adeline's shoulder, Angel was very dirty. The grime blended in with the shiner beneath her eye. There wasn't much distinction between the two. Between the layers of filth and her current malodorous condition, one could only surmise just how long it had been since the girl had had the privilege of a bath. A fearful look flitted to the man named 'Joe'. She slumped against the table, resigned to her fate.
Adeline took up a grimy hand in her own, careless of the smears it would cause on her own. "I told you about Joe. The one who touches me here ... " The free hand rose to her chest lightly, just where her heart lie.
Angel nodded and stared at Adeline's hand. With the utmost ease and care, Joseff set about examining the girl. Anger grew for them both when they saw the rope burns and scars, some even fresh, about Angel's wrists. And again when her cloak was opened to reveal the half naked body. In various places, her clothes were ripped to shreds and it was a miracle that they stayed on her at all. Her pulse was checked, as was her breathing, consideration taken to move slowly.
The flash of ice returned to Adeline's eyes and the hatred returned over stark white skin. In a moment, it was gone. She gulped quietly. "You might need to check her for signs of ... " She took a breath, her voice very soft, "rape."
Joe nodded silently, and so did Angel. "It's not your fault ... Gods, child." Adeline was personally disgusted with what might have been done. It could have even been from one of her old subjects. The thought wasn't even entertained. All of her training, all of her practiced and insincere words of comfort vanished in an instant as she looked to her. "Did someone hurt you like that?"
A slow nod was her answer.
The lab coat strained in it's stitches as Adeline slipped her hands into her pockets. They were squeezed into fists to relieve some of the building anger. Manicured nails bit hard and deep into her palm, forming bloody crescents.
Dr. Jansenn continued on, giving her a full examination. Soft-hearted he was, and it showed in the way he dealt with children or those traumatized. So gentle was his touch and his word, that he may have been the one person not capable of hurting anyone. It caused almost immediate trust in his patients, for they could tell it was sincere. It was perhaps the reason why he was beloved in the Hospital. A lone hand of tenderness in a harsh and steely world.
"Addy, we're going to clean her up a bit, then check for rape." He switched off the penlight he had used for the eye examination and stuck it back in a pocket. "She's definitely under nourished and dehydrated."
Adeline nodded, her lips pursed. The nod was both to the report Joe had given her and to Angel, who had looked to her for signs of approval of her actions.
Warm water was drawn and collected in a pan. A washcloth was pulled from a cabinet. And then another. They might need two for this job. "I'm going to undress you and we're going to give you clean clothes." He explained to Angel. "We're going to wash you and make sure you're all right."
"But I'm right here," Adeline reassured her. She slipped over to the girl's side and up onto the table beside her. "If he tries anything funny, I'll kick his butt." The smile she gave was forced.
"And she's going to kick my butt if I try anything." He winked for the benefit of them both, his words chiming in perfectly with Adeline's.
Angel gave a genuine smile, her fear of Joe diminishing, though she still checked on him from time to time. She leaned over and kissed Adeline on the cheek and was left to wonder on the definition of 'funny'. She hopped off the table onto creaking knees and stripped. There wasn't any modesty to her. She was unabashed, uncaring that anyone saw her naked. Her pitifully thin body was a storyboard of abuse. Knives and fire had done their damage and left a patchwork tale of horror to be read.
"Here, let me." Adeline took the sponge from Joe and with motions that are smooth, careful and steady, she began to wash her. "Sorry. It's the mother in me."
He smiled. "You'd probably do a better job anyways."
The hefty task of cleaning the girl was halted momentarily. A finger had gleaned over a certain scar on Angel's shoulder. It dominated the bony structure and stood out as clear then as it did when it was first branded into her skin. Adeline knew that symbol. It declared her Angel a witch; unclean in the eyes of the Nuclear Messiah. Adeline covered it quickly with her hand. How many, she wondered, had she ordered to be so branded? She shook her head, unsure, for it qualified as a secret.