wecanavenge | ✘ | 012

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✘ | 012 | VIDEO

[The video clicks on, showing an uncertain eye and not much else, because the video is held much too close. The camera flips and jostles a few times, before it's held back enough to see a young boy. He looks much younger than he really is, rake thin in a very unhealthy way, but still more than skin and bones. He's pale, and he's scared. When he speaks, it's all in German; which, usefully, is the only language he knows.]

H-hallo? [Tosh has already assured him that Herr Doktor is not around and there won't be any tests of any kind today but...he isn't entirely convinced and is more than a little nervous to direct more attention to himself. So he's hesitant, but tentatively giving into some curiosity?] Is this one of the SS buildings? [He pans the camera around the room quickly; partially visible, as he tries to gesture with his other hand, is the silver helmet he holds.] I have never been here before.

[And he heads to a couch, looking uncomfortable, but...maybe a little pleased. This is more comfort than he's known in - well, ever. He manages a little smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, and falters at the edges.] It's very nice. Thank you for letting me stay here.

[His attention drops back to the helmet, now in his lap, and he holds it up for the camera after a moment - the look on his face says he probably shouldn't play with it and he's sorry, but he's drawn to it nonetheless.] Does this belong to someone?

(OOC: And tags will come from

einzweidrei because I'm a bad person. :c Blanket content warning, again, for possibly in depth discussion of the Holocaust.]

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[Something about the room is familiar, and not in the way the cold lab or Herr Doktor's office is. He isn't sure if that's good or not, because he's never been here in his life. When the knock comes he spins toward the door, eying it with wide eyes. If he doesn't answer, they'll break down the door anyway, and he'll be in trouble.

He looks down at the strange helmet in his hands - he'd woken wearing it, and couldn't understand why, it was so uncomfortable - and screwed up his face at it. It was metal, he should be able to move it. He could turn it into a shield, or armor, he could protect himself.

But no matter how hard he concentrated, it didn't move. It didn't even tremble in his hands, and he gave up with a frustrated sound.

Herr Doktor had said anger and pain were the keys, and all he was was afraid.

Slowly, Erik inched toward the door, and pulled the door open, jumping back at the same time, just in case.]

[Just looking at him, seeing how drawn and thin he is, makes everything inside her twist and roil. But she doesn't let it show. She just smiles, gentle and careful.

She's been learning German, here and there - she could get by in Romania thanks to her time with Aleera - but she's anticipated the possibility of needing to communicate with more nuance than is possible from a beginner. To that end she has a Torchwood-scavenged translator plugged into her cerebral port, the actual object in her pocket and a wire running from her neck down to her jeans pocket, and the mental strain of using it while walking and talking is going to give her a tremendous migraine.]

Hallo, Erik. Mein Name ist Toshiko Sato. Ich werde mich nicht, dich zu verletzen.

[I'm not going to hurt you.]

[He holds the helmet tight in clammy hands, and nothing in his demeanor says he believes that. He'd thought Shaw had seemed like a kind old man, when he'd first been ushered into his office. He'd offered chocolate. Erik thought maybe there had been a mistake, and this man would right it - and he'd been wrong.]

Hat Herr Doktor schicken Ihnen? [Did Herr Doktor send you - because he can't imagine any way for her to know his name.] Are you Schutzstaffel?

Nein. Herr Doktor ist nicht hier. Du bist sicher.

[There's always a balance to strike here. The boy she's got in front of her now, and the man she's going to have to deal with in a few days. She can't isolate him now but she can't be seen to be taking advantage, either.]

Ich möchte mit dir reden. Darf ich?

[He clings to the helmet like a shield, and frowns his confusion.]

Sie sind bereits mit mir zu reden. Doktor Schmidt weiß, ich bin weg...

[She's quiet a moment, because her responses are having to get a bit longer and more nuanced and neither the translator nor the human brain are intended to be used this way.]

That doesn't matter. This place doesn't belong to the Schutzstaffel. They can't find you here, and no-one is going to send you to them.

[He wants to believe that. Wants to believe there is someplace they can't touch. Instead he looks down, away, before he looks back up at her.]

That's what they said about Poland.

[Her chin drops for a moment.]

Would you come for a walk with me so I can show you something?

[His grip on the helmet tightens, and he wants to say no, he doesn't want to go anywhere with her, he doesn't know her, and this room feels - safe.

But he knows better to refuse, now, because it does nothing, it only hurts more, and one day he'll be strong enough to say no, I won't leave, whenever he feels like it.

He tries to make the helmet float again, and knows he isn't strong enough yet. So he nods.]

What do you want to show me?

I want to show you where we are, so you'll know why no-one can find you here. If you don't want to come, you don't have to.

Edited 2012-10-22 18:56 (UTC)

Show me, please.

[He doesn't actually think he has a choice.] I'll come.

[She's gathering that. But she can't convince him otherwise, so the best she can do is be as gentle as possible.]

There's a staircase at the end of the hallway. We'll need to go all the way to the top. Do you want to go first, or shall I?

[It's a bit of a climb, but like hell she's going to offer him an enclosed metal space when he's already nervous.]

[There are so many questions, and he finds it frustrating; he wants to tell her not to pretend, that he knows he isn't allowed to decide. Dropping his arms to hold the helmet in one hand at his side, he nods toward the door.]

I can follow. [Maybe he can run, but he doesn't think he can. It will be worse if he does.]

[She's aware that if he does run, her only recourse is going to be to find him after he's stopped and very pointedly not do anything by way of disciplinary action. All she can do is hope he doesn't; the Barge is a big place and 'younger' doesn't necessarily mean 'more benign'.

Still. She leads the way and takes the stairs slowly, without looking back, unless she's got reason to for his own safety.]

[He follows in silence, head down - though he does look around now and then, taking in the hall, the stairs, all strange and new things. There are other children, too, but not as many adults as he would have expected. He switches the helmet to his other hand, and a couple flights up, he gingerly settles it on his head, though he stumbles when it blocks his vision. It clatters on the stairs, and he hastily picks it up, mumbling an apology.]

[She turns, measuring her movement - not too fast, not scaring him is still the priority here.]

Are you -

[Translator.]

Are you alright?

[He frowns a little at the odd words, but it wasn't enough to understand that she isn't really speaking German. He nods quickly.]

Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. [He doesn't sound as scared - he is, but he isn't, and it's very strange - but the response is ingrained: the nail that sticks up gets hammered down.]

It's fine. I just want to make sure you aren't hurt.

[She opens the door at the top of the stairs, and - well, she'd tell him not to be afraid, but that horse has already bolted to say the very least.]

This way.

Edited 2012-10-22 19:49 (UTC)

[He follows her out and stops short on deck, eyes widening. He is afraid, but - he is amazed, too. He knows nothing about space, nothing beyond the stars he sometimes saw at night. It's huge, it's so huge, and it goes on forever, and he feels very, very small.

They were not in Germany. He turned to look up at Toshiko, eyes still big.] I believe you. [More than he did, anyway, and that is certainly saying something.]

I'm glad.

[She smiles softly and lets out a breath. It's becoming very clear to her that this trick with the translator is only going to be manageable in chunks and she's going to need to go and take some painkillers and maybe be sick in the next half-hour or so.]

We should talk about what you need. Some warmer clothes, some food?

[He looks down at his clothes, at the striped linen that's identical to every other prisoner in the camp, and he nods, slowly first, then faster. His stomach clenches, though, and he isn't sure if he's hungry or sick or scared or starving.]

Is there chicken?

[She considers this. Morning, so breakfast shift, so....maybe? God only knows if there are enough grown-ups around to even be running the kitchen.]

I'm not sure. We can find out.

[He nods, looking up at the sky - or lack thereof - again. He was very hungry, but part of him didn't want to leave this spot.]

Can I come back up here? Whenever I want?

Whenever you want. I promise.

[Her head hurts so much her vision's doubling. Oh good.]

How about this for a plan. We'll make sure you've got some food and clothes, and you can explore for a bit by yourself, if you want to. I'll show you how to contact me if you need anything, and I'll check up on you later. Does that sound okay?

[She's nervous of leaving him, but she's had enough experience of regression floods of various kinds to know how daunting all this can be.]

[He hesitates for just a moment, then nods quickly. It's freedom - it's more freedom than he's had in years, in he-doesn't-know-how-long. And he likes it.]

Yes. Yes, that sounds okay.

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✘ | 012 | VIDEO

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