Disclaimer: I don't own these wonderfully complex characters. This story, born from my imagination, is not meant to be anything but unprofitable praise to the creators of the show. Don't sue.
A/C: Some stories take planning and long reviewing and lots of editing. Some sneak up on you and demand to be written. This story started as the latter. Hopefully, it'll continue that way. All praise, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated and welcome.
My premise is Paraguay and self explanatory. If you get confused, keep reading; all issues will be addressed.
TROUBLED MINDS & WORRISOME HAPPENINGS
There is always that moment, during a dire situation, when sounds get muffled, colors fade and time slows down to a crawl. Logically, you know that the world around you is not any different. Your perception is so altered, though, that logic has no place in your thoughts or in the way you see your surroundings.
So, the steps that are taken feel heavy, the people around you move slowly and the words being spoken, being shouted, being thrown at you lose all meaning. You know what they mean, need not hear them to understand that the clock in already in a sluggish, desperate crawl towards the end. You see the pitiful shack, feel the steady arms carrying you there. You notice the wires, the water pooling on the floor, the shackles on the table. You take it all in, fear you swore would never be admitted to, more real than anything you have ever experienced before.
It is not happening as slowly as it seems to you and there is no time to react, to fight back, to beg for some sort of salvation. So, you don't say anything. Your struggles against the arms that hold you are in vain. When the straps are secured and you find yourself more hopelessly incapable of escaping your fate than you were before, your focus narrows even more and all you see is the roof made of straw and all you hear is the thundering echo of your heart battering your inner chest.
The moment before it all came to a head.
The moment before your world comes to an end.
Even if you survive, even if by some miracle, you manage to escape this situation, there is no doubt about the shriveled, broken mess you will be. How can one go back to normal after the mental torture of hearing your companion's screams and being unable to do anything to save him? How do you return to your former routine after having your body electrocuted to the point beyond even pain?
You know death seems preferable to that.
And yet, you don't want to die. No one, really, wants to die. Not like this.
Your muscles tense in anticipation to the pain. Your mind steels against the questions that will be asked, the secrets not meant to be spoken. The attempt is futile and you don't fool yourself into believing that you will ever be prepared to face the reality that has become your own.
But the pain doesn't come as you expected it to and the air that rushes into your aching lungs tells you that you had forgotten to breathe. The world that was small and contained expands again, the sounds no longer muffled hurt your ears, the smell of gunfire and blood catches you by surprise. It is beyond your understanding why you turn your head to the opening of the shack. Your eyes settle and refocus and for a moment you believe they are deceiving you. For what you see cannot be real. Who you see cannot be there, holding a gun and looking at you with such cold, calculating eyes.
His name never reaches your lips, but it sounds loudly in your mind and the muscles in your body release some of the tension. He cannot be real and there and saving your life and your mental sanity. Still, you are relieved and you don't care that it is a trick of your mind, drawing you in deeper into the abysm that is madness.
His hands feel real, though, as they release your arms. Instinct - the survival kind and the trained kind all mixed together - make you move. You hand reaches for a gun of your own, your eyes scan for any more enemies lurking about. You ask about your hurt companion. You follow your savior to safer grounds.
It is all becoming real, him being there and you accept it. Right now, you are not interested in knowing why and how and any of the details you realize would have been important to the person you were before. All that matters is that he is there, by your side, where he belongs.
Your mind is still slow, sluggish to be more precise and it seems that reality reaches your consciousness with a serious delay. Some other part of your being is running the show and you only watch as it happens.
And wonder how it could have all gone so very, very wrong.