Those words hit closer to home than Rachel anticipated. She’d been caught up in the surveillance game, watching the little ticks and changes in Sandy’s face, appreciating the stretch of the girl’s lips as she tried to get out whatever was taking its time to form in her head and get out her mouth. Everything, in those moments, seemed like a supreme struggle; feeling badly about Sandy’s state, however, was not the same as getting it, and so all Rachel could do was watch, wait, and be patient.
And then those words came out.
After thinking on those words, and the rest that Sandy managed to express, Rachel leaned forward slightly in her seat. “You’re right,” she agreed. “You’re not. You probably never will be. At least, not insofar as that typically means. But in case your abilities may be useful in a mission, you need to know the basics of defense, of disarming, and so on—and these are some of the things that I will teach you. Among others.”
Rachel folded her hands, entwining her fingers and tightening the grip. “I don’t intend to try and turn you into a soldier, Sandy. I intend to make sure that you’re able to survive in here, and out there, for as long as this place is standing, and as long as there are no real laws out there to protect you,” or protect others from her, she didn’t finish. “And besides… ideally, whatever you might need to be involved in would not require you to fight, per se.” They weren’t always so lucky, but that, as far as Rachel was concerned, was the goal. Minimal violence.
“But it looks like you could possibly use a good night’s sleep without sedatives being forced upon you; will you allow me to show you to your room?”