Sam Victorio // Max Guevara (notanumber) wrote in ourtrueselves, @ 2010-04-11 00:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | sam victorio |
Who: Sam Victorio (and Max Guevara)
What: Not everyone deals well with captivity
When: Saturday
Where: Reincarnate Detention Facility, Undisclosed Location
Sam couldn't remember ever being this tired. She'd been fighting. She felt like she'd fought everyone. The last people she'd remembered fighting were Betty and Phin, the last people she'd wanted to fight, but still she had. Then the building had started to shake, she'd wound up getting hit with a tranquilizer, and she was fairly certain that she'd been hit in the head with something.
The next thing she knew, she was in a cell. There had been a few different cells, and a lot of different people. Everyone asking the same questions. Many she didn't know the answers to, more she simply refused to answer. Eventually, they stopped asking.
When people weren't asking her questions, she waited, and she slept. She had spent most of the last week asleep. She couldn't remember... it seemed like such a long time since she'd slept. Months. It had literally been months since she slept. Sometime in the winter. It wasn't something she did very often. She didn't need to, so at some point she'd stopped even trying. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't something Max needed to do. Max who had been silent, ever since the fight.
Until now.
Max came to with a start. Her eyes shot open and she looked frantically around, disoriented at first. It took her several moments to figure out what was going on. She was here, in this body that wasn't hers. This body that was healing quickly, but still not as quickly as she remembered. And she was in a cell.
They were holding her. They were holding her and they were asking questions, and soon the tests would start. No. They didn't know what she was. Not really. Eventually though, someone would recognize the barcode on her neck, and then they would come for her. She had to get out of here. Now.
Looking around, Max surveyed her options. No window. There was a vent, but it was tiny and high up. Possible, but not the best option. The door. It would work. They didn't know what she was. She pressed against it. She shook it. Then she stepped back and rammed her shoulder into it. Again. And Again. And again. Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham.
Sam struggled to regain control.
'Max,' she thought.
'Max!' Still nothing. She shouted out loud.
"MAX!" The sound echoed in the cell, a young woman shouting at herself. "Stop it!"
'No. No. I have to get out of here.' She slammed into the door again.
'Stop it! Not now. Not like this.'
'We have to leave. They'll find us.'
'There is no they!'
'You don't know that. You don't know. You remember, but you don't know. You weren't there, Sam. You weren't there!'
'Max. Please!' She was so tired. She wanted to just give up, to let Max take over completely for however long she wanted to. It couldn't end well though. She had to wait. She had to be patient. Alec... Logan had been released. She'd seen it. She might be released too.
'I can't stay here. You can't keep us here. Everything you've been until now, that's me. You OWE me!'
'I do! I owe you everything and I'm trying to repay you by keeping you... keeping US from becoming the star of America's Most Wanted. Do you really want to be a fugitive again? I know it's not my first choice.' Even if she wasn't released, eventually they'd forget. People had short attention spans. They'd get used to her and they'd get complacent. Then she could make a break for it. When the war had been over for awhile. When no one cared anymore. When the escape of some former CORE has been wasn't news, wasn't any reason to panic. She had to be patient. She spoke out loud again, though quieter now. "Max, please."
She started to cry. She wasn't even sure which her it was, but she started to cry. She sat down on the concrete floor and shook with sobs. It was going to be a long wait.