The Hard Road to Truth (TaliesinxLady Alainn)

Darren looked somewhat exasperated. "Just what do you expect me to do with a paper bag? Give someone a paper cut?" She seemed somewhat sincere in what she had said so he was relaxing just a little in what he said around her. Despite his words though he pulled the plastic salad container and an apple out of the bottom of the bag and put everything else back inside. He shoved the bag in her direction before moving his eyes warily to the door. After the one outburst he just nodded to the rest of her words.

Once she was gone he practically ripped the salad thing open, devouring it in a slightly messy manner in his haste. It was fine though, he liked the taste of ranch and didn't mind licking it off his fingers as he wiped off his face. The apple went more the way of the granola bar and he slowly nibbled at it as he waited for the woman to return and thought. Now that he was alone once again his thoughts turned from wariness to darker places. He wasn't sure what was going on in Myleens mind but as she was the one who had put him here he wasn't holding out much hope that she was going to get him out. Being treated a bit better was nice and all, but in the end he was still in a terrible situation with no obvious end in sight.

Then his eyes drifted downwards to the plastic salad container and his brow creased in thought as he had an idea. He had heard no small amount of people remark how they could slit their wrists with how sharp these plastic containers came these days. Idly, he picked up the lid and turned it over and over in his hands, thinking about it. Was he to that point yet? Would it be worth it?
 
It took Myleen a bit longer than she had anticipated to complete her simple task. The first lunch break of the day was just starting and so she had to duck out of the way any time she heard or glimpsed someone in the halls. If a supervisor caught her "goofing off" in casual-wear around premises.... she kept her head down and eyes open.

Myleen slipped in through one of the unused side doors to the cafeteria's kitchen and set the paper bag on the nearest counter. Hustling and bustling was the order of the day as the small army of cooks and dish washers shouted orders, slammed doors, and kept up a steady line of clean dishes and hot food. She dodged through the obstacle course to the beverage fountain and filled the plastic jug with water. She had just set it down on the counter to turn off the faucet when the distinct sound of footsteps came toward her and a pair of hands entered her peripherals. As the hands pressed her glasses against her face in an attempt to cover her eyes, Myleen thrust her elbow into the gut of her attacker. Immediately, the hands receded with a winded accompaniment of, "Dang it, Smithers!" She recognized the voice instantly and frowned with displeasure as she turned to face him.

"Playing games while on duty, Witmyer?" she responded casually with a flick of her hair. She removed her glasses and began polishing the lenses on her hoodie. "Those leprechauns are starting to rub off on you."

"Oh ho, I see how it is. You get bumped up and suddenly you're too good for us." Witmyer flashed her a grin. "Then again, bringing in an elf would probably inflate my ego, too."

"I'd hate to be around to clean up that mess. Keep to your little green imps." Myleen propped her glasses back on her nose and scooped up the jug. "Now excuse me, I'm busy."

"Playing nursemaid, Smithers?" Witmyer teased.

Myleen shouldered past him without a reply. Witmyer followed closely at her heels.

"I've always dreamed of seeing an elf up close."

"Keep dreaming."

"All I'd need is a clearance badge. It's still in max, right? You look like you could use a little company-"

"Back off."

"You're touchy today, Smithers. Elf not behaving itself? I could fix that."

Myleen's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

"Your problem has always been that tender little conscience of yours. To get what you want, you have to give them what they want... a little encouragement."

"That never helped you any," Myleen smirked. "Look who got promoted and who didn't."

"Myleen..." Witmyer placed a hand on her arm and whirled her around to face him. She kept her eyes on the water jug, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Let go, Witmyer."

"Why won't you take me back as your partner? We worked so well together."

Myleen swatted his hand off her arm. "Because I learned the hard way you can't trust anyone." She spun on her heel and marched to the elevators, ignoring anything else Witmyer might be blabbering about. She seethed as he stepped into the elevator with her and set her jaw firmly as he attempted to weasel a reply from her. At the prison level he was forced to give up his pursuit, having not the security clearance needed to step off. Myleen brushed past him with the water jug clutched tightly against her bosom. Doug saluted as she approached, to which she gave a curt nod, and shuffled over to the elf's door. It amused her how much she was looking forward to Darren's company.

"Men," she muttered under her breath.
 
Darren hadn't quite made up his mind by the time Myleen returned. He supposed that meant he really wasn't that hopeless yet. Still, when he heard the footsteps outside he started to panic and looked around desperately for some place to hide a piece of plastic. Quickly he determined that there was no way to remove a piece without looking suspicious and felt the chance to be free slipping out of his fingers.

Imaging another day like the one before suddenly made his decision real easy. Bursting into tears he snatched the lid of the salad and hastily slashed it across his wrists just as the door was starting to slide open. The plastic was sharp but nothing like a proper blade. It cut enough to have a fair amount of blood flowing from the wounds but not enough to put him in much danger even if he didn't get medical attention. His expression was a terrible mix of hope, disappointment and despair as he realized there was not near enough blood flowing and now he was going to have to face her wrath once again.
 
Upon entering the cell, Myleen was greeted with a weeping, bloody mess. Her lips drew into a thin line as her eyes trailed over the plastic salad lid. "Hold it, Doug, I'm coming back out." That's what I get for telling him to relax. Setting the pitcher down by the door, she snatched the lid and salad container from the elf and exited the cell. Bandages, a clean cloth, and ointment were fetched from the emergency supply closet before she returned. Down she went on her knees by the elf for the umpteenth time that day to clean him up.

Her face grim, she dipped the cloth in the water jug. Gripping one of Darren's wrists firmly, she gently wiped away the blood to cleanse the wound. She said nothing. What could she say that wouldn't make this wretched creature's situation worse?
 
Darren was in such emotional disarray that he was barely registering what she was and wasn't doing. He was terrified when she left and only slightly less so when she returned with medical supplies. He somewhat resisted her grabbing his wrists for once, not wanting her to look at them. He was more afraid of what she would do if he didn't let her though so he forced himself to relax and turned his head away, hiding it in his knees once again and starting to soak his tattered jeans with his tears.

The tears weren't for the pain, which was slightly more concentrated but about on par with the rest of him. He was crying about everything now. In relief that he lived. In disappointment that lived. A big ball of emotions all related to his life now that he was stuck in this cell with people who viewed him as an animal and obviously had some ulterior motive. And he couldn't take it. After running away when his parents disappeared and surviving on his own on the streets and a not-quite-teenage, this was the breaking point. He had put up a brave face to the general before but he had always been so close to this edge.

"I'm sorry..." He finally sobbed, not even sure what he was apologizing for but feeling the need to do so. If nothing else to try and mitigate the backlash that was going to come.
 
The first wrist wrapped securely, Myleen moved on to the second as Darren buried his face in his knees. The bleeding was worse on this one, but not to the point of needing stitches. She dabbed at the slender wrist and firmly pressed the cloth against the wound to slow down the flow of blood. Finally it was clean enough to add the ointment and tie a bandage around, which she did with the same gentle touch as the elf wept. It was not a cry from outward pain, but of inward, and she recognized it all too well. Flashbacks of a wooden schoolhouse, a smoking gun, and frightened children in solid coloured dresses and shirts pressed against the wall, lying on the floor, or hiding behind desks played through her head. The cries of her memory rang in her ears with the tears of the elf and it wasn't long before tears flooded her own eyes. Whether truly an animal or actually an intelligent being, it was obvious that Darren was hurting and Myleen wanted to hold him close and stroke his pain away.

"Your problem has always been that tender little conscience of yours." Witmyer's words penetrated her thoughts and she quickly blinked her tears back. Was it so egregious to have a heart and a conscience in her line of work? Who would she be without them? Where would she be? Not here, that was certain. Here... Myleen looked around her at the tiny cell. She had brought this creature here. She had slapped him, tortured him, and broken his will. Why? For what reason? Because textbooks condemned elves as mindless animals bent on destruction and she accepted it without question. Because the general ordered it and she didn't ponder the justice of it. Because she had hardened herself against beings of magic without giving them a fair trial.

Myleen slipped a hand into Darren's and she gave it a squeeze as a tear rolled down her cheek and fell onto his fingers. "I'm sorry, too," she whispered.
 
Darren blinked the tears out of his eyes as he felt her hand take his and a drop of hot liquid splash onto it. He lifted his head to stare at her in confused wonder. He didn't know quite what to think but he did not doubt her sincerity. Gently, he squeezed her hand in response, wincing and biting back a whimper at the stab of pain from his wrist. He had completely forgotten about that in all this emotional upheaval.

For the first time he smiled sweetly, conveying sympathy and forgiveness and many other things all at once. He looked a mess with the tear tracks down his red face but with that smile on his face he could still somehow look rather breathtaking.
 
With such a beautiful smile, she couldn't help but offer him one as well. Slowly, cautiously, Myleen fumbled with the cloth with her free hand to find a clean spot on it and brought it to his cheek. She did not want to alarm him, not now that they were finally beginning to understand each other. "I think it's about time for another round of meds, hm?" she asked quietly as she wiped his tears and then set the cloth down. Without letting go of his hand, she balanced herself on her heels to bring the pitcher and glass closer and rummaged in her pocket for the vial. She filled the glass, squeezed a drop into it, and held it for the elf.

"Drink up and don't go cutting yourself again, you hear?" Giving his hand another light squeeze, she dropped it and removed her glasses to wipe at her own cheeks. "I have some....business to take care of. Be a good boy and I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

Stepping outside, Myleen left the bottle with Doug and scrawled out clear instructions on how often to give them to the elf and when he should have supper sent into him... without any utensils or objects to tempt himself with. Foregoing lunch for herself, Myleen crept back to her office doubly cautiously lest she run into Witmyer again. Once safe inside, she closed the door behind her and booted up her computer. She had some prying to do into the affairs of the general and she only hoped the files she sought would be easy to hack into.
 
This time, Darren did not act near as frightened of her. He closed his eyes briefly and offered another smile once she spoke. The glass went down quite smoothly this time. For this brief moment, he had almost forgotten where he was and what situation he was in. Of course as soon as she said she had to leave it all came crashing down. The smile vanished but he tried to put on a brave face as she left.

As soon as she was gone he once again curled into a miserable ball and stared down at the floor, counting the seconds because it was better than thinking about anything. Eventually he dozed off but he never got much sleep as he was awoken every half hour for more of the medicated water by the guard. At least it wasn't the mean guard who seemed to think he was going to jump out and swallow him in one bite.

As could be expected, the high level access files of the general were very well protected. It took only a little digging around to find that he took an usual amount of visits to a particular military base the next state over that was known for making most of the gear and anti-magic items that funded this agency. The reason was listed as 'inspections'. As for information about the actual base, it seemed innocuous enough aside from the fact that there wasn't a lot of excess detail in any of the files. There were several mentions of 'The Farm' but it seemed files actually related to that were either not in the state files or isolated somehow.
 
Myleen clicked through the files, forehead creased and frown lengthening as she examined the information--or rather lack of information--contained within. "Farm?" she muttered to herself. "What are you up to, General?" It was clear from the tight-lipped answers on procedural forms that whatever he was up to with these magical creatures, it was not kosher. Could she dig further? Myleen opened a side window and typed in a command. Nothing. She typed in another. Then another. Bingo. Encrypted files. She quickly crammed a flashdrive into the computer and was just about to download the first one when the window suddenly crashed. Followed by another. Someone had caught her sneaking into the system.

"Damn!" Myleen yanked her power cord and the computer blipped and died. Had there...no. There hadn't been enough time even for them to trace it to her. But one thing was clear, the only way she was going to find out more was by playing along with the general. And convincing Darren to do the same. Would he? She propped her elbows on her desk and rested her forehead on her palms. This had suddenly become a lot more strenuous of a job than she had anticipated. For the remainder of the day she sat looking at building plans and installed listening devices. That sweet elf was going to need all the help he could get.
 
The next morning there was an email from the general, essentially praising her work so far and asking when she felt he would be 'safe' enough to transfer. There were no mentions anywhere in any of the emails that day of the attempted intrusion, aside from a bland email from IT reminding everyone to change their passwords frequently.

Darren was up to see the sunrise. He was standing because that was the least painful position but the fever had definitely gone down and sickness wise he was feeling a lot better. He couldn't help from pacing the tiny room back and forth though as he tried not to show his dread at whatever was going to happen to him today. He was hopeful to see Myleen again, her apology the night before had seemed sincere but at the same time he knew she was only one person and there were greater forces at work. In the stupid, selfless way he thought he actually had some concern to spare for whether Myleen was in trouble for yesterday's events as well.
 
Not knowing how to respond to the email, Myleen left it alone. Between the gut-wrenching feeling that it was to do with yesterday and the sweet relief of it not being in relation to her hacking skills, Myleen was not in the right state of mind to play it politically correct with the general. It certainly wasn't something she wanted to work out this early in the morning. She still had to talk to Darren and there was still half a week left before the deadline. She set the coffee to percolating in her little machine and twisted her torso left and right in a stretch. This spending the night in her office was killing her back. She wondered vaguely if Darren's lumpy mattress was any better as she kicked her flimsy mat and sleeping bag into her closet. Myleen slipped into a pair of dress slacks and her suit jacket. Catching a glimpse of her hair in the reflection of the shiny coffee maker, she decided that needed a brushing, too.

Before long, she was pressed, dressed, and marching toward the elevator with coffee mug and folder in hand. She took a deep breath as the lift landed on the prison floor and hardened her eyes and face into a no-nonsense, unpleasant expression. Harry rose from his seat at the table to greet her.

"Morning, sir."

"Morning, Harry."

"What's on the agenda today?"

"Interrogating. I want that elf tied down on the Shocker ASAP." She frowned to make her point.

The guard snatched up a pair of handcuffs and slid open the cell door, uncertainty clouding his eyes as he cautiously approached Darren.

"He's not going to eat you," Agent Smithers snapped. "Force him down, chain him up, and move him out. I don't have all day!"

"Yes, sir." Harry made a grab for one of Darren's wrists and clamped a cuff down on the bandage. Myleen tried to hide her wince. Stone. You must as emotionless as marble. Harry succeeded in cuffing the second wrist and shoved Darren out into common room. Agent Smithers frowned again.

"You don't have to be that rough on it. It's cowed enough."

Harry mumbled something under his breath and caught Darren by the arm, dragging him toward the Shocker. Myleen stood back, waiting for the guard to have Darren tied up on the machine before venturing into the room. She dared not look at the elf. Not until Harry left.

"You need me to stay and work the machine?"

"No thank you. I doubt I'll have to use it," she paused and risked a glance at Darren "Will I, Darren?"

Harry mumbled something again and shut the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked, Myleen hurried to Darren's side and whispered, "It's ok, it's all right. We need to talk and this is the only room without a listening device... for obvious reasons."
 
Darren paused in his pacing as he heard the familiar footsteps outside his door. The brief flash of hope at the sound of Myleen immediately died as she started speaking. Unconsciously, he backed as far away from the door as he could and cringed backwards even more as the guard approached him. He wanted to beg for them not to do it but he was so petrified he couldn't speak. He almost didn't feel the pain in his wrists he was in such a panic.

He stumbled along with Harry in a daze, not quite able to hold back a whimper at the sight of the shocker. He strained just a bit at his bonds, not quite able to curb the pressing desire to escape. He didn't hear anything Myleen said before his name before suddenly focusing on her with his wide doe-like eyes full of terror and pleading. Speaking was still beyond him.

Even as she spoke again all he wanted to do was twist himself free and go cry somewhere. It took all the flimsy tatters of his will to not blubber and actually listen to what she said. "What?" He managed in-between breaths that were slightly too fast. His hands were clenched into fists and straining against the bonds even though he wasn't consciously aware of it anymore.
 
Darren had reacted pretty much like she had expected, and it pained her to put him through this emotional upheaval. Setting her coffee and folder on the table, she cupped his head in her hands and gently stroked his hair, hoping the gesture would calm him down enough to listen to her this time. "I said we need to talk and this was the only room I could find on this level without planted mics," she whispered. "I'm not going to use it on you."

Conscious of the fact that anyone could walk in at any moment, Myleen stepped back and picked up her coffee. "I have a few questions I'm going to ask and I need you to cooperate with some answers. When the recorder dies because someone, ahem, forgot, to charge it, we can talk more openly." She paused to take a swig of coffee and pulled the device from her pocket to switch it on. It was almost as if she had switched on another person inside her as well as her eyes glinted like steel and her voice came out firm with the same dry sarcasm she had used before with him.

"Well, Darren, I hope you slept comfortably. Bed to your satisfaction?" She paused again for any response he might feel inclined to give and also for another sip of coffee. "We're going to be spending a lot more time together in future, so I thought we should...get to know each other better. If you're a good little elf you won't get shocked, ok?" Another hesitation. "Where are you from, Darren? Where were you born?"
 
The physical touch did a lot to ease his panicked state to something resembling reasonable. It made him think of his mother a bit but the memories were too painful and he quickly pushed them away. He was still so tense he would win any planking contest, but at least he was listening now. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning his head and staring determinedly at her. It was much better than staring at the hated things above him and he was not comfortable closing his eyes for very long in this room.

He tried not to flinch at the old tone she used on him and told himself it was just an act. He still took just a couple seconds longer to respond while he calmed himself once again. "The floor was as lovely as before." He murmured under his breath, almost amused by the question if he wasn't so freaked out. He took a while on his second response as well, taking a lot more time to calm himself after even the mention of being shocked again. Finally he spoke in a only slightly strained voice. "I was born in Ethelian." He did not offer an explanation as to where or what that was. "More recently, I am from San Francisco." His mouth twisted in a grimace for a moment. "Before you killed my parents." At which point he never stayed in one place very long at all.
 
Myleen's eyebrows shot up at the unfamiliar name. It begged to be pursued, but without an actual threat from the machine, Myleen doubted that question would sound well on tape. She tucked it into her memory and latched instead on San Fransisco. "San Fransisco..." Myleen sipped her coffee and glanced at the recorder. "What were you involved in there? Are there many elves?"
 
Darren was glad she didn't try to pursue the question of his birthplace. He perhaps didn't have much loyalty to those who had exiled his parents but that was a decision only from those highest up and the other people living there did not deserve him risking their safety, though all 3 of them had been put under a spell to make sure they didn't reveal the location anyway.

He almost smiled at her next question though, as his answer would be as innocuous as you could get. "If there were many other elves there I did not know of them. I went to school with human children and played with human children. My parents." His voice went a little tight again. "My parents wanted me to get along with humans. They believed not all humans, or even most of them, were the monsters we had heard about." It was the reason they were exiled.
 
It was while Agent Smithers processed this information and was formulating another question that the recorder gave three consecutive beeps and blinked off. Myleen tapped it, pressed the power button, pressed it again, but to no avail. "Well, that cooperated nicely." She flashed Darren a smile for reassurance. "And in turn, I don't believe all elves are the devious, animalistic chaos-mongers that the government paints you out to be." Stepping closer to him again, she set a hand on his chest. "You have too much in here." She pulled away, but even without the heat of the elf's body under her fingertips she could still feel the warmth tingling over her palm and up her arm. It brought a flush to her cheeks and she hid behind her coffee mug.

"You have two options, Darren" she continued when she regained her composure. "I can help you escape, but you will live on the run again. You will be caught, you will be brought back, and you will go through hell. The other option..." she paused. "The other option, is working with me to uncover why the government is abducting magical beings. I cannot guarantee your safety here, but I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect you. You decide." Myleen met his eyes with a sincere gaze. "You are not the first elf to be brought in."
 
Darren did not know what to think of Myleens words, but he felt very warm when she touched him. In a good way. Not the evil fever and in pain way that he had been dealing with so far. Even the vague reference in his thoughts of before made him shudder a bit. Myleen didn't seem entirely unaffected either, but as to why Darren was completely baffled.

"Not the first?..." His lips pressed together as he tried not to think about the pain his brethren must have gone through. Truly, to be exiled was to be thrown to the wolves. He closed his eyes for a few moments, but the option was honestly quite simple. He had been on the run a long time and it had done more than taken it's toll on him, and as she said if and when he got caught again it would be much worse. It was far more easy to just go along and play it safe. If they found out the information they needed, then great. If they didn't...well he would think about his endless future in this place when it came to that. "It's not much of a choice is it?" He murmured just a bit bitterly. "I will work with you. Perhaps something good can come of this." Horrible options. Why was his life filled with nothing but horrible options?
 
"I wish I could do more," Myleen said quietly. She pocketed the recorder and scooped up her folder as she prepared to leave. "The next logical question is... if I tell the general he may come see you today, will you behave for him? No matter what?"