Chapter Thirty - Hell is Something You Carry Inside

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Trigger warning: mention of sexual assault

Pullman led them into a private examination room, but Kalyna wasn't sure how much that comforted her. Not considering what the were there to do.

"I'll photograph your injuries first," the doctor said. "It falls under my duties, so that you only need to see as few people as possible, and I imagine you won't feel like it after the examination."

She nodded, because she suspected as much herself. She didn't want to be there in the first place, not for this, yet she did her best to comply when Pullman pulled the curtain around the bed and said, "If you can strip and leave your clothes on the bed, then we'll begin."

Unfortunately, once behind the curtain, she froze up. Her brain kept telling her to move, to take off her clothes, but her body refused to comply. Her limbs locked in place, and she couldn't even back out of the screened off area.

"I'm coming in, alright?" Dunstan said when it became clear that she wasn't able to undress. Maybe he felt the current of terror rushing through her, freezing her to the spot as her muscles cramped. Whatever the reason, he eased in front of her, asking, "What do you need? Do you want me to help?"

She gave a sharp nod of her head because she didn't trust her voice. At least if he helped, she wouldn't need to think. She could try to fill her mind with white noise and drift far away from that exam room and what she was there to do. The most she managed was to lift her arms when he tugged her t-shirt over her head, and to step out of her leggings and underwear when he peeled them down her legs. Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eye as so much shame rippled through her again. She hated that her body had become a 'thing'; something to be abused, or a record of another's anger, something that didn't feel like it was 'hers'. It belonged to Lapis, because he had marked it and mutilated it to sate his own craving for inflicting pain. It belonged to the doctor, because he would photograph it and document it's state in his notes. It belonged to the OTF as evidence against her abusers. It didn't belong to her, though.

"Does it ever start to feel like it's yours again?" she whispered softly.

"Like what's yours?" Dunstan asked as he folded her clothes and placed them on the bed.

"Like your body is yours rather than belonging to the people who marked or invaded it, or to the people who need to put it in an evidence bag," she murmured, still without looking at him.

"With enough time," he promised, tucking her hair behind her ear and lifting her chin so that she had to look up into his beautiful amber eyes and at the honesty in them. "With enough time, you'll know it's yours. Hell is sometimes something you carry inside, though, and it takes time to let it go. There'll still be days when old nightmares intrude and draw you back again, into a place where you doubt yourself, but for the most part you'll know that you belong to yourself. You are strong enough to know that he does not own you. You saved yourself, and you belong to yourself. Only yourself. I promise."

She pulled herself straighter, hoping he was right as she said, "Alright, let's get this over with."

Once Pullman pulled back the curtain, Kalyna followed his directions without remark. She turned and lifted her arms or hair on command, and held still while he took full body shots and close ups of individual injuries. Trying not to think seemed to be key. If she pretended that she was far away, in an empty room, or on her own personal island where no one could reach her, then she almost managed to wrestle her panic down.

Of course, worse was yet to come, and when she pulled her shirt back on and lay on the bed, she felt her whole body tense up. It didn't matter that Dunstan stayed beside her, gently stroking her hair. Tears welled from beneath her closed lids, rolling towards her temples as she fought to swallow down sobs and entreaties that Captain Pullman just let her be.

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