For once I have nothing to say, except I'd love your thoughts on this one.


We all live with it, the fear.

The fear that one day we will just go to sleep and never wake up. That this day will be out last day and that tomorrow will indeed never come. The bus that we don't see, the mugger in the alley with the knife, the heart that decides that it's had enough.

He had faced that sort of fear more than most, death at the hands of things that most people couldn't even dredge up in their worst nightmare, and although it bothered him, he was ready for that sort of death, it was a risk of the job he did…a fact of the life that he led and he accepted the fact that he wasn't going to die in his own bed, old and surrounded by loved ones that grieved for him.

That fear he accepted and understood.

That fear he could live with.

He had given his fear a new edge though…given it a power over him that he hadn't realised would be a part of selling his soul for his brother.

Fear for him in this last year had changed from been an always present possibility to a cold hard reality, creeping into him like a cancer, chilling him with its certainty; the not knowing when it would happen changing to a time and a date…a deadline in the truest sense of the word. He knew right down to the very last second the moment that his life would end and which breath he let out would be his last.

The year had been tough, he had been sitting on death row and waiting for the lights to fade, to signalled it was all over, that his marker had been cashed. Yet even the prisoners on death row had something that he hadn't.

They had had hope.

They had hope of a last minute pardon, someone out there that would find something to clear their name, tell the world that it had been a mistake and that this person wasn't a bad person after all…that they didn't deserve the fate that was to be theirs. Hope of a last minute reprieve.

They had hope too that God would hear them, forgive them their sins and that if they came to him in their final hours he would give them the forgiveness that they sought and would give them the peace and eternal rest that they craved.

He had had no such hope.

His brother had tried to give him that hope; even though for a while he hadn't let him, worried that saving him would cost him the very thing that he'd given his life for in the first place.

His brother had fought for that pardon for him, an endless but ultimately fruitless search for that one thing that could save him and spare him from his fate worse than even death.

Still, he had watched as fear had tightened the straps on the chair and held the bag above his head.

He felt it as the time grew nearer and the ticking of the clock in his head grew louder and he had faltered. The need to survive; a need ingrained in him by his father, had kicked in and with that need the fear that he had always walked in front of, finally caught him up and walked by his side.

Sheer, heart-stopping, mind-numbing fear of what he had done would mean for him, what his resurrection of his brother would cost him, what the word eternity actually meant.

Fear smiled at him, wrapped it's arms around him, brought down the bag and then reached for the switch.

He had screamed as the lights went out and he had been screaming ever since.

Chapter End Notes:

Thank you for reading. Mary x