Pairing: Only in the past tense
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I wish, I don’t, They do, I never will. Still poor. Nuff said, on to the fic.
Warnings: Tissues may be needed.
Summary: Not sure what to put as a summary, sorry.

 

The Prisoner

by Steelknight



His cell had barely enough light to show it contained a huge black metal bed, two full bookcases and two dressers along with a small closet. There was one narrow barred window that faced south. It let in very little light and there was no way of escaping from it.

His hope was dying a little more every day. Did they even know his soul was gone, did they care? A pair of deep blues eyes, full of life and love haunted his heart and dreams, blue eyes from his past. Now they were no longer filled with either, the last time he'd seen them all they had held was the blank stare of death.

Soul dead, that was what he was now, he took and expelled breath, went through the motions of the living. But that was all. Joy and happiness were no longer things he knew, they were vague memories at best, if he thought of them at all.

He thought about ending it, couldn't. Living in this hell was the punishment he deserved for failing the most important person he'd ever had in his life. He had never been more alone.

When he was given leave from his cell to serve the masses and earn his wardens luxuries he did his best to get done quickly and be returned to his cell. It was only there he could make his escape within his memories.

A friendship like those of legends past, a love that even death could not end. Those were the treasured memories he escaped to. Days when heaven was on earth, days long gone, but never forgotten.

His wardens had to have seen his anger, his pain. It didn't matter to them and why should it. He was theirs, a slave to their whims and fancies. Why? Because they were his family and he was theirs, as a prisoner of duty and honor. They who knew not the true meaning of those words, except to use as weapons to imprison.

He slaved to support them, their needs always more important than his own. His freedom a dream best forgotten, for it would never be realized. Not til the final freedom of death reunited him with the one person who had ever put his needs before their own. The one who had shared himself with not a prisoner, but with an equal partner. The one who gave love freely and asked for nothing more than that love be returned.

It was long lonely years later the prisoner was granted his final freedom. It wasn't known what form his escape was given, be it violent or peaceful, just that it was an honest death. When it came, those deep blue eyes were once again looking into his. A hand took his and pulled him into an embrace that never ended. His beloved was there to take him home, his days of hell were over.

The prisoner was freed.

 



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© Steelknight 2004