Born of starlight and shadows

~Part eighteen: Carter~

"You're awake," Carter observed, his voice echoing around the tiny space.

They'll be pleased-very pleased-he added bitterly. Silently.

He'd half-hoped she would still be unconscious, but that would have simply prolonged the inevitable.

She turned towards him, chains rattling. She looked every inch the scared teenage girl she really was. He could see her darting around, until they finally rested on him.

Even in the dim lighting he could tell her eyes were wet. She'd been crying. Well. He couldn't blame her.

She looked like she wanted to ask something, but kept thinking better of it.

Eventually she asked, "Did you bring me here?"

No. But I may as well have, he thought.

"Yes," he said instead. "I did."

"W-what do you want-want from me?" she asked.

Carter wanted to cry out: I don't want anything from you. If I had a choice you would be far away, and safe.

But words were dangerous, so instead he said: "You're about to find out."

She trembled at that.

He could tell there were still quite a few questions she wanted to ask.

"Wh-where's Hannah?" she burst out a few moments later.

"Hannah?" he repeated, as if that would change the meaning of her words.

Keep my daughter out of harm's way...

He pushed the sound of his old friend's voice out of his head.

"Hann-Hannah Jones," she added in a quiet voice, like she was regretting she had said anything at all.

"She's here, isn't she?" she asked, more quietly still.

"Don't ask any more questions," he said forcefully, noting the blinking red light in the corner of the room-the cell, indicating they were both being watched.

She closed her mouth.

He crossed the cell to the paper-thin cot she was sitting in in all of two steps and undid the gleaming, unnatural chains that bound her ankles.

For a second, she was free of that burden. Her eyes flickered to the door.

"Don't even think about running," he said. "There are guards waiting outside-more than enough to handle you."

She stayed seated. Allowed him to place cuffs made of that same, man-made metal around her wrists. Tie a blindfold around her eyes, though she flinched at his touch.

He couldn't blame her for that, either.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

He didn't doubt she heard him, just didn't think she understood.

But he grabbed hold of her-appearances, appearances, appearances, and led her out the door, into the uncertainty that awaited her. That awaited them both, truly.

Whatever it was, he didn't think it would be good.