[Ami] Half-Light

[island-muses.livejournal.com]

Five, maybe six days into her captivity, she'd lost count at the beginning and couldn't be certain, Ami's life fell into a routine: breakfast, shower, "interview" with Ethan, lunch and then an indeterminate stretch where she might be left to her devices, subjected to more blood tests and injections, or drilled and questioned by a clinically cold Asian woman. While Ethan psychoanalyzed her, always under the pretense of making her life "here more comfortable" – and Ami never for one moment doubted that it was pretense – the woman bombarded her with questions regarding her abilities and how far she could stretch them. Unlike Ethan, Dr. Sakai – Ami tricked the dinner nurse, Steph, into revealing the name of the woman on the fourth evening – did not hold the captivity of Ami's friends over her head as a threat, though she did reveal and hint at far deeper and greater knowledge than she should have had regarding Ami and Megabyte, the Tomorrow People in general, Scott, Walt, River and Mara than the woman should have been privy to.

Sakai's questions were concise and direct without subterfuge. When they were not, they were simply confusing and frustrating and often embarrassing.

"Did either of your parents have paranormal abilities?"

"No," Ami repeated the same answer that she'd given the day before and the day before that. "I've told you this before. No, my parents were both perfectly normal."

"Grandparents? Aunts? Uncles? Cousins?"

"No already! Am I even speaking English?"

"No brothers or sisters?"

Ami folded her arms beneath her breasts and glared at the woman from the pseudo-safety of her bed. She'd long grown tired of answering the same questions over and over again.

Dr. Sakai returned her stare for a long moment. Finally, heaving a sigh, she flipped to another page in her clipboard. "Are you fertile? Have you ever monitored or measured your fertility?"

*That* was new. Ami actually felt herself frown before she could stop it. "I don't know. No. Why would I?"

"Is your partner fertile?"

"What's that got to do with anything? You're holding me here to find out what Scott's sperm count is? Rather have that arse over tit, don't you, then?" Ami learned early on that trying not to name names or identify her fellow survivors and castaways served no practical purpose. Sakai knew the people, and pretending only made the questioning sessions drag onward.

"How often would you say that you and Mr. Hayden engaged in sexual intercourse on a daily basis?"

The question angered her, mortified her and saddened her all at once. It was none of this woman's business, this woman – this pseudo-doctor who held her captive against her will and was keeping her *away* from Scott, didn't have the right to ask such things or to expect an answer. The asking itself reminded her of the ache and emptiness she felt, of the hollow just beyond her senses where Scott should have been, but couldn't be felt.

"None of your bloody business."

"Did you have intercourse the morning before you were brought here?"

"I'm not going to answer that!"

She didn't answer, and those questions were never asked again.

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[Ami] Awakening, Part I

[island-muses.livejournal.com]

(Now I understand why incarcerated prisoners need distractions,) was Ami's first thought upon awakening on what she thought was day six of captivity. That made it twenty-four days, or three weeks and three days, four days short of an official month since Oceanic 815 crashed onto the island. Counting was another way of keeping sane.

Jacob walked alarmingly close to her on her route to the shower that morning, and for a few suspended heartbeats Ami desperately feared that he would follow her into the shower. Fortunately - and there was a word Ami thought she would never use under these circumstances or with these people - Ethan arrived, reassigning Steph and a guard who was not Fisher to guard Ami's showertime.

The annoyance she felt from Jacob and Fisher at being summarily dismissed and the fortuitous arrival of Ethan did not sit well with her. Still, she ventured into the shower, glad that Steph was willing to remain outside, and set about following her usual routine.

That was when Ami got her second surprise - the first being the Changing of the Guard - of the morning. She summoned her soap to her hand telekinetically. Ami was in mid-wash when she realized exactly what she had done and the resounding joyous laughter escaped before she could stop it. The sound echoed off of the bathroom walls, bringing Steph and the guard running to see if something had happened. Ami played it off, claiming that she was simply overtired and letting her imagination run off with her.

Left alone to her own devices again, Ami tested the limits of her returned skill; or rather the ability she now had access to again. Soap, shampoo, towel, brush, all of it floated to her hand or away from her as she willed it. The handles on the faucet turned on and off and the toilet flushed. It was only the knowledge that she was still a prisoner, and that her awareness of Scott and Megabyte was so faint, far, weak and faded that stopped her from floating on air and grinning with delight.

She was telekinetic and empathic again, but she was still a cripple.

(But it's coming back. It's all coming back. I just need to hang on a little longer. Eventually . . . ) Eventually, she might acclimate fully to their drugs, of which she no longer received intravenously but via an injection in the morning, or perhaps evening, when she received her other injections. Then what? She could teleport away, but would she be able to get back?

No, she'd have to hide her recovery from them, making her regret her display in the lavatory. Just because she hadn't seen any cameras in there, didn't mean that there weren't cameras in there. She'd ahve to wait until she was full strength, because she'd have to escape with Rose and Claire at the same time. Then, even if they weren't on the island, they would be reunited with their friends and loved ones (Scott) because they could tell the rescuerers about the island.

(Patience,) Ami whispered to herself.

Now, it was only a matter of patience, waiting, and biding her time.