"Perseverance"

[Guest Fiona Weber]

Fiona tried to sit up, failing. Gingerly lowering herself back to the low cot in the observation room, she tried to calm her breathing, willing the shaking muscles in her arms and legs to do as she wanted. The paralyzer was starting to wear off, finally, but it was still tough going.

 

More than tough going, she reflected, struggling again to pull herself up so she could lean against the wall. This time she was a little more successful, if ungraceful. With a lurch, she was able to approximate something that might not have been "sitting", exactly, but it was a little less pathetic than lying in a heap where the aliens had left her.

 

Her gut churned, and she shakily lifted a hand to rub at her forehead. The effort from that small movement alone was draining, and the churning turned to outright nausea. Resisting the urge to vomit, Fiona focused on the cool texture of the wall. God, she'd been through far worse. Even viruses could be worse than this.

 

But she knew it was more than just the after-effects of a strong paralytic that were so concerning. Fiona had truly no idea what those monsters had been doing to her. No. That wasn't quite true. In fact, that wasn't true at all. She had a damned good idea and that was what worried her so much. As if in sympathy with her worries, a muscle in her stomach spasmed, probably a delayed reaction to having large needles shoved into her. Stubbornness and pride died away and she collapsed back onto her side, curling up into a little ball.

 

What if those creatures had been conducting some sort of -- god, she had trouble forcing herself even to think the word -- fertility testing? She would literally kill them all if that was the case. If those subhuman sons of bitches had even considered... No. She wouldn't let herself imagine it. Not yet. Not until she had proof of what was, or what wasn't, going on. The prospect of being... of them having made her... no. No no no no no. It was too horrifying to even put the idea to words, even if she didn't say it aloud.

 

Forcing herself to her feet, she fought a long moment of dizziness and disorientation while she tried to make her way to the wash-basin in the corner. It took a couple of tries, but eventually she made it, washing up a bit as best as she could and letting the cool touch of the water calm her as best as it could.

 

Finally making herself turn off the water -- and to stop rubbing at her hands like scrubbing the skin off of them would cure all of her problems, she stood straighter, gripping the edge of the skin for balance, grounding. She was going to get through this, she promised herself. No matter what they had done to her or would do, Fiona swore to herself, she would never allow any lot of sadistic subhumans break her. They could torture her, experiment on her -- hell, even maybe kill her, but never, she vowed, would they destroy her.