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my_strappyshoesThe pinching feeling is back, but not where it was. No longer is it in the back of her neck, it's shifted lower pressed between her shoulder blades. The ache in her arm is from where they've no doubt stuck her with a needle again. That doesn't help the fact that her arms are tied back behind her, raised up above her head as she's hanging from a girder. There is that same guy, in his chair looking up at her with those same dead eyes.
"Who do you work for?"
She's trying to not laugh at how cliché he's being. With her feet still on the ground she's sure that her laughter will stop that luxury. Rachel feels more disorientated than before, her surroundings have changed once more, and the more times she feels like they've moved she knows the harder it is going to be for them to find her. Her hands shift a bit, wrists rubbing against the binding.
"Harry Henderson."
It's a lie. She says it because not only is it funny to her, but she's thinking of her colleagues, the people in the office that do the same thing, and have done the same thing for longer. She thinks of Marshall sitting across from her telling her that they have to do what Sloane wanted. She thinks of Sydney with her new life, and her husband and her baby. She lies because she wants to keep them safe.
"Really... he's a monster, you might like him."
He's not impressed. Standing up he moves to the winch and presses the motor on it raising her up off her feet a few inches. If she points her toes she can press up on the tips of her shoes, but it's a balancing act.
"The drug I gave you earlier... it put you to sleep. A light form of a chemically induced coma even. You won't feel pain... not until... The one we gave you just before you came to, was intended to counter it. I could... do that to you for days. Or I could just let you hang. I've not really decided yet. You could end it. Tell me who you work for, or give me back what you stole from me."
"You're right. Really. I should just tell you," her voice is cracking, dry from the lack of anything really to eat or drink, and she can feel her stomach trying to get the better of her. "I just... I don't think Harry is going to forgive me if I do."
The lie continues. It's easy for her to stick with one and push it through. Less thought needed, less effort. She's thinking of her brother too because of the tone she's using. It makes her think of Christmas three years ago when he had her convinced that he'd totaled their dad's car. She's being a smart ass now too, and that's not going to help her at all. He's pissed off of course, and his finger presses on the button again lifting her further off the ground. Dropping the control he moves over toward her taking hold of her legs and pulling on her with most of his weight before he lets go of her legs. The pressure and release dislocates her shoulder and she cries out trying to hold her breath back, and not let it hurt so much, but now she can't help it. The pain is radiating through her arm now, and it feels like broken glass being rubbed between her bones.
She barely notices the man moving back toward the controls, but she feels the chain dropping once more, and her feet finding the concrete. He's motioning toward someone, and she can't even pay attention. All she feels is the point of the needle to her neck once more and the darkness comes.
