Heaven in Hell

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@Champ_0102 This one is for your message.

Prescott's POV:

Next morning, I go to Darcy for the checkup and the dreaded welts. One that has burnt me the entire night. I can see her jaw ticking when she looks at the welts but she says nothing.

She starts examining the ribs. On cue, as per her instructions, I raise my hands up and down, side to side with little groans. She notes something down and applies a band around those ribs. I perform the movements again and this time, it hurts a little less to move. But damn, the band feels like Satan has a tight grip around my chest.

I try to talk to her but she shuts me down with instructions or just plain ignores me. Something is wrong!

She prepares some mixture and slowly applies it to my welts. Her hands are so gentle that I try my best not to squirm and pull my hands back but a few hisses escape. With those, few tears leak out of her eyes. Oh fuckety fuck! She is hurting for me. Damn! I'm one lucky bastard!

I lift her chin and rub her tears away. Fuck! I really can't see her crying! She rarely does but when she cries it hurts me worse than all of my 250 cane hits!

"Please don't cry. It is stupid. They don't even hurt that much" I say and cringe. Good going, Prescott! You just called her reason for crying as stupid.

She says nothing but those tears keep rolling down.

I poke a finger on the welts and say, "See, they are fine. Don't cry please. I'll get you chocolates and .. Oh, you are not crying for anything else, are you?"

"No. Just this. All this. I'm tired" She chokes out and breaks into a sob.

I gently pick her up and pull her between my legs enclosing her with my huge frame and then slowly prop her beside me hugging her from the side, welts long forgotten.

"Should I ask Chief to let you sleep? You can rest, go out and get a change of scenery and all"

"No, don't. I'm not weak. It is.. This is.. Uhh, I just... Remind me again why?" The more she cries the more it breaks my heart.

"I know you are not weak. You don't need to prove anything to anybody. I can ask Chief.."

"No" But those sobs still don't go away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" I say putting her head on my shoulder and stroking her hair gently.

"This will be over soon"

"No. Just tell me why? I need it" She says hiccuping.

Oh God!

"Aarham is one of our highly trained ex-servicemen. He went to the other side and uses money, threats and torture to keep people in high places in his pocket. This is done to sell drugs, train mercenaries to operate all around world among other bad things. He hides it behind the good legal stuff people think he does"

She pokes a finger on my heart and speaks with force, "No. I want your reason. Not other people's"

"This can't be done on paper through Army HQ. He has people in his pockets - some by money or some by threat and we don't know who all. We have a link to his database now but until we identify each of them for sure, he has the upperhand. This is exactly what happened with Dad. Dad went after him on orders. Nobody knows exactly how and what went down but he killed them both. All the Army sent is a stupid commendation letter. Said martyrdom is highest form of death and killed in action bullshit. But he wasn't killed fair. I know Dad was amazing at what he did. He took them away because he knew. Those moles gave him away and I'll avenge them by killing him first before he can even see me coming" I say the last words with more force than I wanted. It still hurts. I still miss them too much. All the training and it all transfers the pain but I can still feel mom's hands messing with my hairs and laughing when I try to get away. I still remember Dad and me arm wrestling while Mom referees. She more or less helps both of us through words or physically. Sometimes, she would be a damn funny commentator who throws popcorns.