LIFT (Ha-Jeong)
nonverbal prompts, accepting! ˎˊ˗
flashback - 2008, vera is ten years old. as a result of being trafficked and kidnapped by a branch of clan reardon, vera and her three younger siblings are held in an previously abandoned warehouse, along with other captives, enslaved humans, and vampires who carry out reardon's business.
exhaustion clings at her eyes, but vera knows that she cannot stop. generally, the men with their shiny weapons strapped to their bodies- so you can see them -keep their eyes off vera. it's been three years, she's been keeping track, and she's good at most everything they put in front of her, nowadays. her hands are smaller than the other adults, which is good for doing the teeny, finnicky jobs that only terrified children are good for. she's smarter than the rest of them, faster, too. she's better, and that's why she's going to get them out of here. when the rest of them, lost, desperate, and pathetic, crumple to the ground, screaming in their misery- vera knows it's why they'll die in here, and she won't. and neither will hugo, nor carlos, nor inés, because she's going to get them all out of here.
she just doesn't have any other choice. it's why she's standing here, tonight, stuffing chemicals into tubes that they tell her not to spill on her clothes. so, vera doesn't spill. behind her, she hears the abrupt, loud sound of pain that she recognizes to be coming from someone else working on tonight's job. vera wonders about their anguish, wonders if it's the chemicals, or a cramp, or one of the bored enforcer's cruel jokes. but they don't dare turn around to see what happens next.
the deal was that vera stands here, awake and working, while her three siblings are tucked into their beds, as safe as they can be. so when vera hears screaming, and the violent re-breaking of a leg, she remembers that inés only took thirty-six pats on her back to get to sleep. carlos wanted a story about mexico. hugo begged to come out with her. they keep her from turning around. vera doesn't need to see to know what's happening- she's sported enough broken bones and bruises from her own mistakes. but she's learned, and now she knows better.
hours later, vera's dismissed with aching fingers, and a migraine induced by her lack of sleep. the ticking of a clock in the hallway of the warehouse marks hour forty-one without closing her eyes. funnily, that makes it even harder to rest.
while she had been escorted back to the little room where they've been keeping vera and her siblings, nobody stays to keep an eye on her. whether it's trust, or laziness, vera doesn't really care. what she does care about is that this warehouse clearly wasn't made for children, and there are all kinds of spaces for someone as small as she is to slip into- and through. vera's insomnia has created a new dangerous habit- but behaving and falling into line can only get her so far. so, she's started sneaking around.
at first, there was nothing but fear and featherlight footsteps against silent floors- but, then, vera found everything. she found ha-jeong. like anything in the warehouse, she's fleeting, and impossible to trust. but what vera knows about ha-jeong is that she cares. that, and she's brilliant. and ruthless. and a pirate- she knows that because it's why carlos likes her better. vera only ever rolls her eyes. ha-jeong is still a grown-up in a place that has only brought them violence, but there is something in her eyes that vera cannot decipher. she's not sure that ha-jeong knows what it is either, given that she's always asking questions about what the four of them are even doing here, in this place.
without realizing it, vera's looking for her now with burning eyelids. they misstep, stumbling over a loose tile and ending up running right into- it's ha-jeong, which takes down the panic that had kicked up in their chest to something mangeable.
she's awake now, staring up at ha-jeong whose eyes are filled with ... concern. something burns brighter inside vera as ha-jeong's hand moves to her jaw, tilting the line of it so they might meet. with care. vera doesn't care about safety. vera doesn't care about the one woman that looks at her like she's worth something. she doesn't care about pirates, or stories, or tricks that you can do to make it out of a fight alive. she doesn't care about ha-jeong, whatever she's saying that sounds to vera like she's underwater. she doesn't care- because ha-jeong gets to leave this place and be free. ha-jeong doesn't have to worry about three little children who might never have another birthday cake, or get to see the ocean that she's always talking about, or feel safe ever, ever again.
and, so, she couldn't possibly understand why vera's exhaustion has morphed into the fire of rage, and she swings a fist into ha-jeong's throat after the woman dares to worry about her. vera doesn't really understand, either.
