Work Text:
Redemption. The deliverance of sinners from the penalty of their sin. That’s what Sarah sought, because she likes to believe she is not a monster, or a killer, or akin to Rachel. So when Rachel beckons, Sarah follows. Because she’s haunted by the screams, and the flashes she sees of Rachel writing on the floor with the arrow through her eye.
Sarah was easier to snare than Rachel had envisioned. Who would have thought her humanity was so easy to exploit? Sarah with such little emotional control, so simple to read. Guilt radiating from her whenever they were in a shared space. Rachel’s engineered eye an ever present reminder, the silver iris standing out with something of a faint glow. No longer identical to her sisters. She has transcended them.
She outlined it carefully. Testing limits, stretching boundaries, pushing and pulling. Sarah would respond to texts and calls. Texts and calls became invitations, invitations became orders.
Sarah became Rachel’s.
She welcomes it when she’s commanded to fuck harder, or when Rachel’s fingers scrape against the back of Sarah’s teeth, when her lip splits with the bitter sweet sting of a slap. Sarah will bleed for Rachel, because that’s the price she has to pay.
“Eye for an eye?”
They stand together in the bathroom mirror. Rachel’s whisper is almost as gentle as the switchblade razor she has ghosting along Sarah’s cheek. She thumbs the scar behind her clones ear as she holds her head in place, forcing her to look at their reflections. Rachel can’t help but postulate how easy it would be. A flick of the wrist, she could slash Sarah’s throat and be done with it.
But she enjoys their games.
Killing Rachel would have been less of a burden to Sarah. Killing her would have been final. Now she has to stare into the eyes of a person she humiliated in every way Rachel feared most. One who’s appetite for the most beautiful kind of revenge is picking her attacker apart piece by damaged piece.
Would Sarah die for Rachel? Would her desperate, aching heart let its last, shuddering beat be for a woman she claimed to hate? Maybe, just maybe. Because when Rachel permits Sarah to leave, she hesitates. She stays.
Rachel squeezes her throat, she feels Sarah’s pulse, feels her humanity, her mortality. Such dizzying power.
“I’m sorry…”
Sarah chokes out and Rachel presses harder.
“You will be.”