Note: Another short T.A.K.K.A ficlet set in a alternate universe where Tera can't handle all that's happened and Captain is left to comfort her. Not meant to be romantic or "fluffy", just a drabble really. I'd love to post this on the other blog, but again, it's not canon and probably contains many spoilers, even though I've covered most of them! Please comment with thoughts and/or review, if you'd like.
"Fractura de la cordura"
Swing, snap, fracture.
Sob, drum, silence.
Kick, breath, swallow.
Pipe.
Ebullition, retaliation, requital.
Detention.
They got back to the flat four hours and three interviews later. The damage was severe enough that Allison's mom thought it was out of the question to not to file a lawsuit. Two broken ribs, a nose, small torso hemorrhaging and a few fingers were apparently a just cause for complaint.
Tera didn't mention that she had planned to beat the kid's brains out with the pipe.
Captain didn't say anything, not that she was expecting him to. When they finally let him through the school's security all the initial interviews were done and the only thing left on the precinct and school's agenda was to talk with him. Even from down the hall Tera could hear everyone in the room yelling.
By the time they let him go she could tell he was agitated just by the way he walked towards her and drove the car. He didn't mention that the principal diagnosed her as a sociopath. She'd already heard.
The flat was pitch black when they arrived. She walked in and went straight for the second guest room, not noticing the second set of footsteps following her. Her foot hooked around the door instinctively and moved to shut it behind her. His hand stopped it at the last second and she ignored him while changing out of her uniform and into some of the clothes spread across the bed.
She was waiting for him to do something. Yell, get angry, start tapping his fingers against the door, anything. Just waiting for the tiniest sign that showed he acknowledged what she did and that he didn't approve. She wanted him to care, wanted something about her to matter to him. To provoke him.
To make him help her.
Empty. That's how she felt. A shell that was given a job and expected to act how people wanted her to. Scared, damaged, afraid. Cureable Curable by therapists and medicine. Not placid. Not quiet. Not angry.
And that's why they provoked her.
It only takes one incident for people to start talking. How the poor girl snapped after all those months and finally lashed out. Poor her, so damaged by that man and those creatures that she'd turn against her own friend. Stop, she'd say, when they take him away. But who would listen to someone so deranged? So damaged?
He stared at her from the doorway. She slouched on the bed and stared back squarely.
Nothing. He did nothing, and the wall she'd build to keep everything in convulsed.
A half-choked sob made it's way out and she curled in on herself to keep it in. He moved, darting into the room and lifting her up into him without hesitation. She latched on and wrapped herself around him, practically shaking with the force of her own crying and gripping the collar of his jacket until her knuckles were white.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and held her until her shoulders stopped shaking and her breath calmed. The grip on his jacket loosened and he realized she'd cried herself to sleep.
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