1.4: In Which She Talks

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     Somethinghe quickly learns about her is:

     She.

     Doesn't.

      Stop.

     Fucking.

     Talking.

     "I mean, how does that even make sense? I can remember that the sky is fucking blue but I don't know who gave birth to me? How is that even possible?"

     It takes him a second to realise she actually wants him to answer. So he gives her the same response he's been giving her all morning, "I don't know, baby."

     His monotone voice is muffled by the pillow he'd shoved over his head.

     "And, Jesus, I don't even know if I have a Mum! We might have been cooked up in a lab! Am I twenty years old? Thirty? Or Two fucking days old?"

     While her never ending – impossible for him to answer – line of questioning irritates the hell out of him, she had a point, one that had often boggled his own mind.

     He lowers the pillow off of his face to his chest. "They've...hinted about pickin' up people, not growing them."

     "Well that's somewhat comforting," she mumbles under her breath.

    Finally, he thinks to himself with a heavy sigh, when she doesn't follow it up with another question.

      254 tucks the pillow underneath his head before locking his fingers together and resting them behind his head as well. He closes his eyes, fully aware that he wouldn't be able to sleep but he could rest peacefully for a while.

     He isn't used to having company for so long, let alone one that spends their time talking to him opposed to shouting, yelling and crying for help.

     It was strange to say the least.

     Unfortunately the quiet doesn't last for long.

     "Is there a way out of this place?"

     Fuck sake.

    254 didn't think he was capable of hurting a woman – maybe an exception for Doctor Ashley – but this one he was increasingly tempted to strangle.

     "No." His response his curt, straight to the point.

     Obviously it isn't good enough for her. "Well? Have you even tried?" She prods.

     "Yes."

     "And what happened?" She sounds as if she's quickly getting frustrated with his detail-lacking replies.

     "They used it as an excuse to saw off my legs, see if they'll grow back –they don't, by the way– and they had to reattach them again, all while I was awake. Oh no, baby they wouldn't let me sleep for one moment. I doubt you'll be surprised to find out I never tried again."

     He spits the words like venom, not sure whether his anger is aimed at her for pushing or the bastards who did it to him. Either way, his chest his heaving and he reminds himself to calm down. The beast was enjoying this too much - growling and pacing, desperate to be set free.

     He forces him back down with calming breaths.

     She inhales sharply. "Fucking shit." Worried is how'd he'd describe her right now, most likely thinking about the nasty crap they'll do to her too. "You didn't deserve that."

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