"You have to learn to follow orders, soldier. Your duty." Then Emma was face down against the table, his left palm keeping her head down while his right fumbled at her chest, groping, then pierced down her body and settling at her waist.
She strained against him, trying to elbow her way out of his grip. "Get off!"
"Oh, I plan to."
Ice ran through her veins, and that little seven-year old scream that went unnoticed rang shrill in her mind.
"No!" She cried out, pushing back against him to wiggle herself free from his bigger size, but all that did was elicit a moan from the older man, and Emma wanted to throw up. The bile in her throat burned, and the tears welling up in her eyes made it hard to see, but oh could she feel. He was ripping her belt away from her, pressing her head against the table so hard she could see stars, then his entire torso was pressed against her back to keep her still, and she just wanted to curl into a dark hole and never come out.
"Such a pretty girl," he whispered in her ear making her skin crawl.
She felt his fingers on her skin at her waist, and she shut her eyes and pushed back against him as best as she could, but his nails clawed at the top of her thighs like every struggle would put her that much closer to the inevitable.
"Please," she choked out, but he was getting closer, more bold. He smacked her head against the table until those stars danced in front of her vision, and in her haze, she could hear metal unclasping and a zipper being pulled down.
Her whole body stiffened, her eyes forced shut, and a song playing in her head trying to distract away the fear.
His body moved. The weight on her back disappeared. Emma gasped out a choking sob as soon as he was gone and moved quickly away from the table, tripping over herself, and falling to the ground, crawling on all fours into a corner.
Spencer was on the ground, a sneer on his face and his hands up defensively as Kennedy hovered over him, his rifle trained right between the General's eyes. Ken kept the gun pointed and spoke into his shouldered walkie talkie. "Serge, we have a situation in the school house. A traitor in our midst."
Her eyes were trained on that beady eyed gaze of the General, and even being held at gunpoint, the man smiled. She tried to turn away but her brain refused. Those eyes would be haunting her in her sleep for years. Kennedy was speaking to her, but Emma couldn't hear. Her ears were ringing, her skin was crawling, her heart was racing. She didn't even realize she had turned over and threw up in the corner until her head hit the back wall, and she brought her knees to her chest. She hugged them, her fingers covered in the contents of her stomach, her chin caked with dried blood, and silent tears streamed down her face.
Kennedy was suddenly in her face, but she stared past him as Cabrera and Neal, who looked sick and angry, picked up Spencer roughly by the scruff of his collar. Emma saw his pants shucked down a few inches below his waist and she gagged, clawing at her arms and neck and legs. Angry red lines appeared on her face as she sobbed and scratched away the evidence of what happened, but looking at her fingertips, blood and flesh beneath her nails, she felt the bile rise again.
"Emma," Kennedy soothed. He tried to hold her shoulders, but she pushed him away.
"Don't touch me!" she demanded in a shriek.
"Okay," he relented softly, backing away with his hands up. "Okay. It's okay. You're okay."
She shook her head, clawing at her hair and tugging at the roots. She hid her face between her knees where her tears tracked on the material. "Don't."
Kennedy hovered over her, and if she had looked up, she would have seen the sympathetic grimace on his face, his own eyes welling up at the reality of the situation, mixed with disgust for the man dragged out of the school house. But she didn't, and even if she did, all she would be able to see were the stars dancing in front of her eyes as Spencer's body pressed against hers.
Chapter 18
Chapter Notes
Disclaimer in Chapter One
Halfway across the world, though really 5,600 miles away, Regina was laughing in Tina's loft, a wine glass between her fingers and her back settled comfortably on the futon in the living room. These ladies night as Ruby so liked to call them had become quite a treat for her even though she was reluctant to partake initially. More often than not, David would sit for Henry at the mansion or at the Nolan's, though the one time he declined due to undisclosed deputy business had Kathryn turning a blind eye and draining more alcohol than normal that night and the other three women suspecting curiously since Graham had clearly been free that evening.
Most times they took turns playing hostess, and currently, Tina's one bedroom loft was being used as their entertainment area where she was draped over an accent chair, legs dangling over the armrest, Kathryn sharing Regina's futon with a throw pillow tucked against her stomach, and Ruby on the floor, her back against the futon as she fawned over Josh Hartnett on the television screen.
"Kate Beckinsale was so lucky in that movie," the waitress commented enviously.
"Acting between Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett," Kathryn added, fanning herself with a palm. "Makes me think I got into the wrong career."
Tina scoffed and stood with her empty beer can, moving to get another. "They're the lucky ones. Have you not seen her in Underworld?"
Regina shook her head playfully when Tina got to the fridge. "It's hard to believe you're the one teaching our children."
"I give them something to believe in." She retrieved her beer and sat back down, popping open the can. "Plus, I turn them all into beautiful singers and ice skaters."
"Debatable," Ruby muttered, making the two women on the futon smile in laughter.
"Out of you lot, I've got the best job here," the curly haired blonde argued. "I guide the future."
"You're not a real teacher," Ruby teased, poking her with foot, making the curly-haired blonde glare and gesture in a way no child she taught should ever see.
"Ugh," Kathryn groaned and held her arms up, shaking her head. "No teacher talk. Teacher-free night please."
"We should trail him one night."
"I could increase the paperwork at the station, so he has no free time to spend elsewhere but home."
"I can spit in his food."
"No," Kathryn shook her head and leaned over to the side table to refresh her third glass of red. "I want him to admit it." She downed half the glads. "Then I'll take half his money."
The women all laughed, Kathryn toasting her wine glass with Ruby's bottle of Smirnoff.
"Never mess with a lawyer," the waitress grinned.
"But you know what gets me?" Kathryn continued, taking half a second to gulp the remainder of her drink. "I still care, you know? Every time he's out working, and I know he's out working, or he comes home and he's pulled a muscle chasing down some petty burglar or even Pongo, I still get worried something more is going to happen to him."
"You've been married for years, dear, what do you expect?"
"To be an unemotional robot."
"Like me?" Regina quipped.
"How you used to be," the blonde teased.
"I could never put myself through that," Ruby said off-handedly before turning her head swiftly back and offering an apologetic shrug. "No offence."
Regina furrowed her brow. "For what?"
"I just mean, I could never do what you guys do. Having a relationship with someone like David who fights crime, being an army wife."
"I'm not—"
"You're an army wife," Tina cut her off.
"You're scared for David in Storybrooke," Ruby continued to Kathryn then looked at Regina, "I couldn't imagine being scared for Emma in Iraq."