Page 30 of Speechless

Something cold pressed firmly to the burn, stealing the intense pain. She dropped back onto the table, a mere inch that seemed eternal, and gasped for breath. Plastic slipped over her face; she clawed at it, terrified it was another of Sire’s methods to keep her in line, but warm skin touched her forehead.

Delirious, she stared blindly at Connor, watched his lips move before her brain homed in on his voice, drank it in.

“You’ve had it on before, baby. Breathe now, nice and slow.” His other hand kept the mask over her mouth and nose as refreshingly cool air hissed into the plastic cover. “Good girl, Jenna. Good girl for telling us.” He slipped a band around the back of her head, keeping the mask in place. “Leave that there, baby. Keep breathing.”

“What the fuck was that?” Sarah demanded. “My goddamn hands are shaking, Connor. I thought you said she was out.”

“She damn near was. Near enough it was risky to give her more.” He paced, rubbing his face, shaking his head.

“She can handle it. Her system’s burning through what you’re giving her too quickly. I understand your reticence in giving her a standard dose, Connor, but my nerves won’t take another experience like that. This needs to be done, here and now, so it’s over with. Sedating her every day to treat the fucking mess on her back isn’t going to do her any good.”

“Trust me, I’m not getting a kick out of this myself. She’s just so underweight, it won’t take a lot to push her under.” Connor pressed his fingers to his eyes.

“Her heart rate’s good. Pulse is strong, even under sedation. We’ve got heart monitors, Connor. Hook her up, keep the oxygen going. The only reason you’re doubting yourself with this is because of who and what she is.” Sarah patted his arm. “Set aside the fact she’s Jenna. Put it to one side. She’s a lovely young woman in pain. You’re a doctor, you can ease the pain. For the next hour, she’s not Jenna. She’s Patient Omega.”

The oxygen cleared her senses enough for Jenna to get the gist of the conversation. Enough for her to know they were stripping her of her name again, leaving her…nothing. Her lips quivered, hidden by the mask, and she turned her face into the pillow to hide the sudden wash of tears sheening her eyes.

She heard more words, blocked them out. Anything that was nothing didn’t have the right to listen to conversations. Anything that was nothing wasn’t human, and she was used to being anything but human.

“I’m sorry, baby, we’re flipping you around all over the place. I just need to stick these on your chest so I can make sure your heart doesn’t give up the ghost on me, okay?”

The voice she loved was so close. In a fanciful world, she could have reached out and caressed each word as they tumbled from his lips in a waterfall of flowers and cuddly animals.

Jenna sighed miserably as she was turned onto her side, kept her eyes closed when cold patches pressed to her skin. Somewhere close, a machine began to beep in a strong, even rhythm. Her heart, she realized, when the beeps matched the thud in her chest.

She wondered if she could stop it through will alone.

“Baby?”

He couldn’t even use her name, because she wasn’t Jenna anymore. He couldn’t even give her the illusion of being someone. She decided she was tired of being no one, of being anything that was nothing.

Her eyelid was pried open, a light flashed into it. She cringed against the bright flash, refused to look at the man behind it. For once, she was looking forward to losing herself in the darkness that scared her so much.

“Heart monitor is on and working. Stats look good. Oxygen mask in in place, tank is three-quarters full. Antibiotics and painkillers, check. Sedation, check. Suture tray at the ready.” There was the briefest of silences, then Sarah said quietly, “We’re set, boss.”

Jenna stiffened when Connor took her hand, squeezed it. Fierce need for him kicked off an internal struggle inside her to open her eyes, to look at him one more time. To show him, if only through a meeting of eyes, that anything that was nothing could still feel love.

Fingers smoothed over the crook of her arm, tapping gently, and she resisted the urge to fight. Fighting was tiring, she’d learned that quickly enough with Sire. Capitulate, surrender, roll over and show your belly…pride and dignity took a hit, but the pain and humiliation came faster, didn’t last quite as long.

“Little scratch, baby. This is just some painkillers and the antibiotics to stop the infection from the inside. You’ll be sore when you wake, and I’m sorry. But this is the last time, God willing.”

Her lips twitched in a grimace as the needle pierced her skin.

The beeping of the machine picked up a beat, just a little faster. She cursed it, hated it for revealing her nervousness when she was trying so hard to be brave and hide her emotions like a good nothing.

“It’s okay, baby. Deep sleep this time.”

No. No. Shaking her head, she bolted upright. This wasn’t right, wasn’t right at all. She couldn’t go into the darkness, into the deep sleep as nothing. Eyes wide open, she slapped her hands on either side of Connor’s startled face and pressed her forehead to his.

Mind to mind, she threw all her thoughts at him, desperate in her panic, conveying everything she couldn’t say through hands and eyes.

She began to slip into the black, Connor fading away despite her clinging attempts to hold onto him. His hands were on her, holding her, but she could hardly feel the strength of them, the heat of him anymore.

“It’s the sedation, Jenna. A little more than last time, but you’re going to be fine, I swear. Just relax, baby. That’s it. That’s it, Jenna. Such a good girl…”

For a moment more, she floated.

When the darkness consumed her, someone called her name.

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