Scattered Sanity (Sanvers)

Day Eighty-One.

Winter had settled in. Though Alex was unable to see the weather outside, the increasingly cold gusts of air, her visible breath, and the occasional snow flurries that found their way to her confirmed the season. Her stomach remained exposed, helpless to the chilling breezes, and she was almost always shivering. The only place the wind felt good was on her raw, inflamed wrists, continually scuffed by the coarse rope that had never been cut down.

It had been so long since Alex had seen her loved ones, the memories of them becoming more bittersweet with each day she remained trapped. She knew that she was giving Kara, Maggie, and the DEO the benefit of the doubt at this point, but guilt would gnaw at her if she lost hope. She replayed Kara and Maggie's voicemails in her head over and over, clinging to the sound of their voices for comfort. She had never felt more alone.

Rick had not altered his ferocity, even though Alex was naturally more miserable than ever. The ruthless beatings had not ceased, which resulted in Alex's skin becoming stained with blood, bruises, and welts, sore reminders that she was absolutely helpless. Her lack of power and control was now aggravatingly apparent, an ignited fire in her belly that desired to serve Rick the justice he deserved and to reclaim her dignity, but she hadn't received even the most minuscule of chances to overpower the other. Her brain was still as sharp as ever, but she couldn't pinpoint any weaknesses or flaws that she could manipulate to escape. As infuriating as it was to accept, Alex couldn't deny that Rick had done an excellent job in carrying out his plan.

The telltale footsteps signaled to Alex that Rick had entered the warehouse, and she fixed her posture as much as possible, wincing as her wrists shifted against the rope.

Shortly after, Rick came into her line of vision, although this time, his attire was different than normal. Slung over his right shoulder was a plain black backpack, one a student might use to carry their textbooks around at school. There didn't appear to be much inside of the bag, but that didn't stop Alex's curiosity from peaking, and her anticipation started to build as he settled it on the floor a few yards away from where she was secured.

Rick assumed his pattern of walking over to Alex and looking down at her with false sympathy. "Nice to see you, Alex." He said as if everything was the same as always.

"What's in the bag?" Alex asked suspiciously, keeping her eyes trained on the backpack.

"Chilly, isn't it?" Rick ignored her, rubbing his hands together to produce some warmth.

Alex scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure it's horrible for you." She replied, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Rick's foot shot out, striking Alex squarely in the ribs. "Watch the tone."

The redhead wheezed, leaning over and sucking in a few frantic breaths before turning her attention back to Rick. "What are you, my mom?" She laughed dryly. "You know what else my mom would do? She would probably grab me a coat or a blanket to protect me from the cold. So, you know, I don't freeze to death or something."

A grin spread across Rick's features. "Well, I don't have either of those things, but I do have something that I think will warm you up." He headed towards the mysterious backpack, kneeling in front of it and making a deliberate show of unzipping the front pouch painstakingly slowly. He peered inside the bag once it was opened, sticking his hand inside and retrieving whatever items he had stored there. With his back turned to Alex, Rick gathered up the materials and held them out of Alex's sight while striding back over to her. Finally, he displayed the items to Alex. In one hand, he held a long, slender wax candle, and in the other, a blowtorch. "This will definitely help fend off the cold." He assured.

Alex cocked an eyebrow, still wary. "Isn't a blowtorch a bit excessive to light one candle?" She questioned, eyeing the large metal tool in Rick's palm.

Rick shrugged, the smirk still playing on his lips. He moved the wax candle so it was close to Alex's left arm, then he turned on the blowtorch.

Alex could easily feel the heat of the torch, and she watched as Rick brought the flame to the candle, but instead of bringing it to the wick, he held it so the fire licked at the wax side of the candle. "Hey, you're missing the wick!" Alex pointed out.

Shaking his head, Rick's smile widened. He held the blowtorch steady as it began to melt the wax, and a clump of the substance ran down to the base of the candle, threatening to drip off onto Alex's bare arm.

The redhead's heart jumped into her throat as she realized Rick's true intentions. She wriggled frantically, trying to maneuver her arm out of the way, but it was pointless. "Rick, stop." She pleaded.

Rick looked up for a moment. "I thought you wanted to be warmed up." He explained, faking innocence, as the first chunk of scalding wax slid off the candle and landed onto Alex's unprotected flesh.

Alex's flesh was seared immediately, and she hissed through gritted teeth, tears springing to her eyes. The wax was bubbling on her skin, branding itself into her arm, destroying the nerves that lay beneath the surface, all working together to inflict agony upon the victim. The cluster trailed a few inches across her bicep and towards her shoulder, soon joined by another gob of wax that fell onto Alex's forearm. The immense heat seeping under her skin caused her to breath heavily, tensing up and doing her best to ignore the pain. However, when two more clumps of scorching wax stuck to Alex's right arm, her tears spilled over, winding down her bloodstained and tortured face in crooked lines and blurring her vision. The burning sensation lessened as time passed, but just barely, seconds turning into hours while the layers of her skin were stripped away. After what Alex could've compared to a year, the wax pieces had cooled, now bonded to her scalded arms.

"How are you feeling, Alex?" Rick asked. The entire time, he had watched the process unfold with a gleeful smile on his face, observing the suffering with a twisted sense of delight.

Alex glanced up at Rick through watery, red-rimmed eyes without saying a word.

"I bet you're feeling cold again." Rick commented. "And now you have all those wax blobs stuck on you. I know just how to fix that." He knelt in front of her, again brandishing the blowtorch and activating it. "Hold still." He advised, moving the blue tip of the flame to the chunk of wax on Alex's right shoulder, heating the wax up again.

Alex saw the wax rise in temperature, then drip lazily off her skin and onto the floor. As Rick moved from the top of the clump to closer to Alex's skin, the heat began to reach her again, and she whimpered. When the fire lapped at her skin to melt off the rest of the wax, she screamed, a broken cry to an empty world. Her throat protested, the screech slashing at her vocal chords.

Rick burned off the rest of the wax quietly, seemingly unaffected by Alex's bloodcurdling screams. When he had finished, he switched off the blowtorch and collected his candle and backpack, stuffing his maniacal devices into the bag and zipping it shut.

Alex was crying softly, her head lowered and shoulders shuddering. Even though there was no longer a flame searing her directly, she was still feeling each and every unbearable stroke of the torch that damaged her skin.

Rick paused in his walking out of the room, staring at the huddled figure on the ground. "I would advise that you start cooperating. If you don't, it's only going to get worse from here." On that note, he left, hoisting the backpack strap up on his shoulder.