The Chance to make a Change

Chapter 18: Can't Quit

Summary: The first time meeting Finney.
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Step for careful step, you descended the staircase. The familiar damp air instantly reached your nose and made your stomach clamp painfully. Bile threatened to come forth and you had to swallow it down. The tray was clutched in your hands.

You heard the rustle before you saw him. Finney hurried away from the mattress. Apparently, he didn't want the Grabber to see him in a vulnerable state and you could not blame him. He now stood in front of you, ready to face the Grabber, but clearly surprised to find a young woman there instead.

"Hi," you awkwardly said, forcing a gentle smile. You felt naked, barren. The shirt you wore covered your thighs, giving you some modesty. But it was obvious by the sight of the many crinkles and spots that you had been wearing the thing for a while now. Your bare feet were cold on the dirt floor. Your gait was awkward, indicating that something had happened to you so you could not walk normally. It didn't take a genius to see that you were another pawn in the Grabber's hands.

"Who are you?" Finney asked, clearly confused. His voice did not sound nearly as harsh as it would have sounded if it had been Albert who stood here. Finney seemed to lose his determined posture, that chin-up stance that he had when you opened the basement door was gone and he was looking down at the floor where your feet were. He must have registered that they were bare, for his eyes traveled up your naked calves, your dirty shirt, and up to your smiling face.

His eyes saddened and you wished you had never seen that expression on him. Don't get in tears, you told yourself. Don't cry because he looks at you with sad understanding. Don't cry because you can see the pity in his eyes. The sight of it broke another piece off your heart and made your chest tighten. Damn. You were here to rescue him, one way or another. Without Max getting hurt. You would save as many lives as you still could.

You cleared your throat, which felt dry and swollen from the emotions swirling inside of you. Then you raised the tray ever so slightly because your muscles didn't feel strong enough to raise it any higher. The cuffs might be gone from your wrists, but their marks resided there, a soreness that indicated you had been cuffed for a long period of time. Finney must have seen it, for his eyes darted to them as when you raised the tray, rather than at the items that lay upon it.

A creak behind you and Finney's eyes darted up. His expression seemed to change again. From the sad and almost friendly softness that he had bestowed upon you, his face twisted into a mask just as firm as Albert's. One of determination and anger.

"He has made you some breakfast," you said. Simple as that.

No hi. No how are you? No silly questions that would raise his ire.

Because Albert was standing behind you. You could feel it. Without having to turn around you just knew he had descended the stairs and had come to stand at the bottom of them, in the doorway. Mask still on.

"Who is she?" Finney asked, and you were surprised that he had gone off script. If your presence here hadn't prevented his capture, then you had assumed that nothing would differ from the movie you had seen after all. But it seemed that you were wrong.

Finney's lines were different. And even if they were just words, it meant that it had changed the entire interaction. It meant that you wielded a power that you had stopped believing in. The power to change things by just being here.

"That is of no importance to you," Albert was back to using his creepy voice again. That low, nasally mutter that sounded so different from the voice he used when he was talking to Max. You glanced over your shoulder to see how he stood in the doorway, back and shoulder resting against the doorpost. His arms were folded in front of his chest, left leg propped up so his foot was against the doorpost as well. A casual, uncaring stance. One that showed boredom. One that betrayed he did not like what was happening but since he had agreed to, he would sit it out.