He Who Controls the Flame (001 fanfic)

Chapter Twenty One- Pillow Talk

Peter was having strange dreams.

He didn't know how he knew he was dreaming, but he did. He didn't normally have them, most times they would be nightmares. Nightmares from his past. Of seeing his mothers neck crack, of crumbling against the ground, unable to stop the chaos from unfolding around him. He felt as out of control in his dreams as he had that night, which was why he didn't sleep much...too afraid of the dreams that threatened if he did.

Peter kept seeing Juliette's face, rainwater dripping down her cheeks, mixing with the makeup running down her face. Still, she looked beautiful. She would always look beautiful to Peter.

She was saying something to him, but he couldn't make it out. His head was throbbing, along with his shoulder. God, he was in so much pain. Where was it coming from? And why? What happened?

Then the screaming started.

Juliette's eyes fell closed and her face went incredibly pale as her lips parted and the wretched noise escaped her. The dream warped then, and Peter was no longer laying on the pavement outside the cabin but in the room he had come to know as the "Torture Room." He recognized the chairs in the middle, decorated with leather straps that had held his arms down more than once.

He felt the electricity running through his veins by merely looking at it. Could remember the countless times he had gritted his teeth to keep from screaming as Brenner ordered the guards to hit him again. And again. And again.

But the room looked...different this time. There were no longer two chairs, just one, primarily because the other one looked nearly unrecognizable. It was a melted thing of metal and leather, mostly on a dark puddle on the floor.

Her name flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning.

Juliette.

And that was when he saw her. His Juliette, his beautiful, darling girl, was strapped down to a chair his sorry ass had been in one too many times. She was twitching, sweat beading on her forehead and staining the collar of her gray sweatshirt. Her mouth was screwed up in a grimace and her brows were pressed together, causing deep, worried creases to form on her forehead.

"Again." The voice came from behind him and Peter let his eyes fall closed briefly, knowing who it was. And yet...he still turned, just to make sure. Sure enough, Dr. Martin Brenner was standing at the back of the room, standing near the wall, his spine ramrod straight. His hand stroking his jaw as he watched the scene unfold before him.

As he watched his daughter get tortured on his command.

Peter turned at the sound of another scream. The noise pierced his very soul, tearing it to nothing but shreds. God, how many times had he heard Juliette scream? If he never heard it again, it would still be too soon.

He watched in horror as a guard pressed the electric baton to Juliette's side, at her ribs, right where he knew it would hurt the most. He knew because that one always made him scream...and Juliette was following the trend well.

Her entire body shook as he heard the electricity make contact with her. Once the device was removed, the shaking wore off slowly, and she hung her head, gasping. He didn't know how long the torture had been going for, but she wasn't begging yet.

"Which number are we on?" Brenner asked the guard.

The guard looked up, completely emotionless, as if he hadn't just been torturing an eighteen year old girl.

Thinking about her age made Peter think about when they had celebrated their "birthdays" at Bellas. God, it felt like ages ago. That vanilla cake had been the best damn thing he had ever had, and he wasn't too fond for sweet cakes. He ultimately knew what made it the best meal to ever cross his lips was that Juliette had been across from him, smiling and laughing as they talked about nothing and everything. He could watch her do mundane shit like eat cake for hours, years even, and never get bored. Hell, he would give anything to just watch her eat cake. It'd be a nice reprieve for the both of them.