A Lovely Ransom

She had flinched a little when she felt his hand on her back, the heat immediately spreading around the area where his fingers rested. The touch was warm and...comforting. It was sweet...kind of like Eric; Lenox was surprised yet again when the warmth of his body spread a little more over hers as he leaned down, his lips brushing her hair. She slowly stopped crying, focusing more on the warm sensations that flowed through her just from those kind touches. Is that what it felt like to have someone else comfort her? To have them touch her gently and not simply hold her down like a wild dog? She couldn't remember anything before waking up in the White Room so she wasn't sure if she had ever been touched or embraced by another human before.

Slowly, she sat up and turned her watery eyes towards him, staring at his face and seeing the sincerity there trying to hide underneath his frown. When she felt his hand slip from her back, she looked down at it, the source of the warmth she felt, and wrapped her fingers around it. Her skin tingled at the close contact, the first kind touch she's felt since waking up in the White Room, and she didn't want to let it go.

"...Will you?" she asked him, her eyes shining hopefully, "The flowers...will you actually get some for me?"
 
This time, Eric couldn't bring himself to move his hand away from hers. He knew that Lenox craved him attention and he knew that he could be the only one to give it to her. He had been the softest one of the Bullets and perhaps the weakest - he also saw it as a disadvantage. Right now, though, he didn't really care how weak he seemed. Lenox was just as human as the rest of them, and he could only imagine how much comfort she needed right now.

"If you'd like that," he nodded his head slowly, "if I can't bring you outside I might as well bring the outside to you." He shrugged a bit, feeling a little out-of-character. The gang member, tough and with rough edges, going out to pick flowers for a woman? He imagined that the guys would get a kick out of that one.

"Lena, can I ask you something?" Eric began carefully, looking at the walls and the bed, anywhere but her face.
From the corner of his eye he saw her nod slowly, and finally he made eye contact with those crystalline blue eyes. "Why do the men in the US want you so badly? It's not everyday they consider giving a million away for just an average girl."
 
Lenox blinked at the question, her eyes widening just a fraction before they lost some of their glimmer. However, her hold on his hand tightened considerably as she looked down at the ground.

"It's not just men that want me back...it's Dr. Palemo," she answered, her eyes growing distant at the thought of the beady eyed man, "He says I have a very, very rare blood type, one that makes me a very special individual. It's because of that blood type...that I'm able to reject any major disease that could destroy my body. He's done that testing: cancer, HIV, the bird flu, swine flu, leukemia...diseases from foreign countries. He also says that I have a very high pain tolerance; I can still feel the pain, but I won't acknowledge it until it becomes excruciating. He told me that my blood could change the world and that's why he does these tests on me."

She looked up and stared into Eric's eyes, her own clouded with hurt and confusion, "But I don't remember ever giving him permission to use my body like that and he's never asked me if I was okay with it. Then again...I don't remember much before waking up in the White Room. He won't tell me, though, says it's not important."

They both went quiet for a time before Lenox turned her attention to Eric's hand, smiling in fascination as she lifted it from the mattress and turned it over to study his palm; "Your hand is really warm," she stated, running her fingers along the lines, "Dr. Palemo and the others always wear gloves, but they still feel so cold. I never knew another person could be this warm."

She gave a giggle as her eyes took on that pretty shine again, but rambunctious laughter from the next room forced her to quiet down. It was the other thugs and they sounded a little drunk. She turned to Eric, her brow furrowed in curiosity and confusion again as she studied him, the man who watched over her more often than the others did and who showed her more kindness than the rest combined.

"Eric...can I ask you a question now?" she said gently, staring at his face. He seemed to hesitate, but soon nodded, "Why are you with them? You do seem a little rough around the edges...but not like them. You seem...nicer than they could ever be. It's strange."
 
Eric couldn't help but allow his heart to soften for this woman. She was probably just like the rest of them before those men had taken her - had a family, brothers and sisters and parents, probably a job. She probably walked her dog down the streets and enjoyed a beautiful summer day. Then somehow someone had discovered she was different than the rest and her life had been turned upside down.
Americans seemed like cruel bastards - at least on the government level, that was. How could a country so advanced on human rights allow something this awful to happen? No one deserved to be treated the way Lenox had, more like an animal than a human being. Special or not, she deserved to have a say in what was happening to her.

He was a little taken aback by her question but smiled slightly at that. Well, he was glad that she at first thought he was nicer and more comforting than the rest of the Bullets. Eric prided himself in at least being a little bit compassionate.

He sighed, "I'm sorry for what happen, Lena, and that... that you have to go back." She grimaced a bit but Eric didn't want to dwell on that; he knew that, no matter what, she'd have to go back.
Eric continued, watching her as she traced his palm with intense interest, "and I'll take that as a compliment. I guess everyone just has this misconception that all gang members have to be heartless bastards. And yeah, men like Dean and Yale are basically that, but we're all different people. I suppose I just never was hurt that badly. We've all lost something very close to us, but it affects us in different ways. And for the record I'm not generally this nice to people, especially women." Not that he ever beat on one, but in his book, women were there to pleasure him and then be discarded. Granted, he hadn't really ever experienced a female that wanted more than that from him.
 
She paused and looked up at him, her blue eyes glimmering with unbridled curiosity, "Especially not to women? But...you're really nice to me. You're even letting me touch you."

She smiled brightly as she held up his hand, holding his fingers, "I doubt the reward money is making you be this nice to me. I think... I think you were always this nice to everyone, but something changed that. It didn't change you enough to fully forget being kind though."

She looked at his hand again, comparing it's large size to her smaller hand; "And for the record," she whispered, staring him in the eye with pain and kindness mixed in hers, "I'm not really mad at you for wanting to send me back. One of the other scientists had said once that money makes people do crazy things, so..."

She shrugged and giggled a little. As much as she had wanted to be mad at him for selling her back to he who used her like an animal, his kind yet gruff disposition softened her own view of him...and she just couldn't bring herself to hate him. She held his warm hand, the first real warmth she had felt from another human. How ironic was it that the one who comforted her was the same one who associated himself with men who had hearts as cold as ice.
 
>.>
 
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