Damage Me

Chapter 11

I skip breakfast.

I'm in my room, putting on some skin-tight leather gloves that stop halfway up my arm, when my father walks in.

He just stares at me, and I look away.

"What, no hello?" I walk gracefully over to my dresser, pulling out my gun.

I check the barrel, then begin to clean it out, mostly looking for a way to distract myself.

He's about to speak, when Aaron walks in.

He doesn't ever make eye contact with our father, or even look in his direction, as he says, "The orders have been issued. We will mobilize tonight."

He hesitates, "So if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to contend with."

"What's it like," he asks, "to be so crippled?"

He's smiling. "How can you stand to look at yourself, knowing that you've been disabled by your own subordinates?"

Aaron pauses outside the adjoining door connecting our rooms.

"What do you want?"

"What," He says, "is that fascination with that girl?"

Aaron tenses up. "She is more to you than just an experiment, isn't she?"

He turns around slowly.

Our father is standing in the middle of my room, hands in pockets, smiling like he's disgusted that this is his son.

"What are you talking about?" Aaron says, but I can sense his worry, his slight mortification.

"Look at yourself," He says, "I haven't even said her name and you fall apart."

He shakes his head. "Your face is pale, your only working hand is clenched. You're breathing too fast, and your entire body is tense."

A pause. "You have betrayed yourself, son. You think you're very clever," he says, "but you're forgetting who taught you your tricks."

I can feel Aaron growing faint, and I'm about to step in, when he turns to my, pointing in my direction.

"Why can't you be like your sister, huh? I never thought she could be better than you, having you be my son, but look at her now."

I'm growing hot with anger, and I clench my fists, willing myself not to interfere.

"I have work to do," Aaron manages to say.

"Tell me," He says, "that you would not care if she died along with the others."

I look up at Aaron, my eyes pleading, but he can't stop the shaky word that escapes his lips, "What?"

Our father drops his eyes, clasps and unclasps his hands.

"You have disappointed me in so many ways," His voice is deathly soft.

"Please don't let this be another."

Aaron stands there, looking outside of his body, and my father says his name, once, twice, and on the third time he snaps out of his daze.

"Aaron."

"What do you want from me?"

His voice is incredibly calm.

"You've barged into my sisters room without permission; you stand here and accuse me of things I don't have time to understand. I am following your rules, your orders. We will leave tonight; we will find their hideout. You can destroy them as you see fit."

I release a silent breath I didn't know I was holding.

"And your girl?"

He says, "Your Juliette?" Aaron flinches at the sound of her name.

"If I were to shoot three holes in her head, how would that make you feel?"

He stares at him. Watches him.

"Disappointed, because you'd have lost your pet project? Or devastated, because you'd have lost the girl you love?"

"It would be a waste, to lose something I've invested so much time in." Aaron says.

My father smiles. "Good to know you see it that way. But projects are, after all, easily replaced. And I'm certain we'll be able to find a better, more practical use for your time."

Aaron blinks, slowly. "Of course." He says.

"I knew you'd understand." He claps a hand on Aaron's injured shoulder as he leaves.

"It was a good effort, son. But she's cost us too much time and expense, and she's proven completely useless. This way we'll be disposing of many inconveniences all at once. We'll just consider her collateral damage."

He shoots me one last smile before walking past me and out the door.

Aaron falls back against the wall, and crumbles to the floor.

I run over to him, crouching in front of his pale, limp form.

"Are you okay?" I ask hurriedly, but he doesn't seem to hear me.

"Aaron? Can hear me? Can you see me? Open your eyes for me."

He does, but not because I told him to. His eyes are full of pain, and filled to the brim with tears.

I know more than anything he doesn't want to cry in front of anyone, even me.

So I run over to the nightstand next to my bed, only to realize the medical emergency button has been taken out of my room.

"Shit." I mumble, "Shit, shit, shit."

I go back over to Aaron, hoping he can hear me.

"I'll be right back with help. Just stay awake for me."

And I sprint out of the room, my bare feet hardly making a noise as I fly across the tile floors.

• • • • •

It's day 5 of patrols, and still nothing.

Aaron and I have been leading the groups, every night, marching into the silence of these cold winter landscapes.

And every night we return to base with nothing.

These past few days, my senses have been dulling, settling into some kind of daze.

I fall back onto my bed, fully dressed. Coat, boots, gloves, hat. These late-night shifts have left me very little time to sleep.

I feel as though I've been existing in a constant state of exhaustion.

My head hits the pillow, and I blink, twice.

I collapse.

Sorry this was a short chapter, but I wanted to finally get started on Unravel Me, so here we are!