Disclaimer: I only own the plot

This is dedicated to sangostar. If you don't know who she is, you really need to go check out her work! This is a oneshot that may have a sequel. We'll see.

Crossing the Interstellar Medium

Dark eyes shot open, staring up at the cold metal roof above his bed, remnants of his nightmare shifting through his consciousness. He couldn't remember the entire dream, but it wasn't hard to fill in the blanks. It was a memory of the past turned dark, sullied by his mind.

The only sounds in the small sterile room were his harsh pants echoing through his prison and the life support systems pumping recycled air into the eight by eight room. Glancing around the bare grey walls, he struggled to calm his racing heart and mind. Time passed slowly for him trapped like an animal waiting for slaughter. That's all he was waiting for. The sentence to be handed down and he would join the rest of his family in eternal rest. Justice and vengeance would never be brought down on the one who had destroyed his childhood. The man he had loved and trusted would live free after murdering his entire family and leaving only him to live with the memories and pain.

A sudden pang of regret pierced him. If this was his fate, then there was one thing he needed to do. He was off the bed in a heartbeat and crossing the room before his mind could catch up with his body and prevent him from following through with his foolish and sudden desire. His fist came down repeatedly on the door with dull thuds, but there was no answer. Frustrated, he continued, pounding on the door until the small viewing widow slid open.

"What?" an irate voice hissed.

He frowned, eyes narrowing at the disrespectful tone. "I want to speak with him," he demanded before turning away from the door and walking back to the bed. The shouts of whether he knew what time it was and threats of what they would do to him were all ignored. He didn't have time for their ignorance.

"Just do it," he snapped. He took a seat on the metal slab with a thin foam mattress that slid out from the wall. One false move and with a touch of a button his guards could decide he didn't deserve a bed anymore, and he would be forced to watch it retract. This was the first time he'd even spoken, and he almost smirked at the low growl of annoyance from the door before the panel was slammed shut again. He snorted, eyes never leaving the door as he waited, back straight, hands folded in his lap.

It was some time before the click of the lock releasing echoed through the stillness of the small room, and instantly he was alert, but the man who walked through the door was not the one he wanted. He scowled at the man that had entered and stopped short, only a few feet into the cell and tilted his head to the side, studying the rigid form on the bed. "What do you want?"

Stubbornly, younger man remained silent. His insubordination was met with an exasperated sigh, and he couldn't help but smirk, his inky eyes laughing at the other man's irritation. He took a minute to look over the older man. The uniform was different from what he remembered, evidence of a promotion, and a reminder of how many years had passed. The prematurely silver hair was in its usual gravity defying spikes.

"You know, I'm curious," the man said thoughtfully. "You've been in confinement for almost a month since your capture, and refused to speak to him or even see him when tries to visit you every single day, but suddenly, in the middle of the night no less, you decide you have to see him. What's changed?"

The prisoner grunted. "I'll only speak with him," he said dismissively. His head snapped to the door where a loud commotion could be hear even through the five inch steal plated door. The only shock he showed outwardly when the door slid open was the slight widening of his eyes, his expression otherwise neutral.

The large tan body of a blond man stumbled through the door, wrestling with the guards. This was not the boy he had left behind. Where was the loud, obnoxious, small fry that had followed him around and pestered him? The captain, judging by the insignia, now towered over him with broad shoulders and a muscular, toned frame.

"Come on guys! He asked for me," the newcomer exclaimed. With a nod from the senior officer standing in the cell, the young man was unceremoniously dropped on the hard metal floor. "Thanks Admiral," the young man said, bouncing to his feet and grinning broadly.

Maybe he hadn't changed at all. He was still loud and obnoxious, just super-sized.

"Get out."

Two pairs of eyes turned to regard the prisoner still sitting on the small standard issue mattress. The admiral cocked an eyebrow at the command from his former student, as if he found the situation humorous.

The dark hateful glare directed at the admiral never wavered. After hearing the rank, he recognized the insignia on his former teachers' uniform, and his curiosity was laid to rest. His gaze briefly flickered to the younger captain to see hurt in the bright blue eyes.

"Not you moron," the prisoner muttered, climbing to his feet. "I'm talking to the pervert." He didn't even bother acknowledging the man, when the admiral pretended to look offended. After growing up with his former captain, now admiral, it was in his opinion that he should never have been allowed around children. Moving slowly across the room, the shorter man came to a halt a good four feet in front of the two officers. "I said get out."

Pursing his lips, the senior officer eyed the captain standing to his left before nodding and silently retreating. The door slid shut with a faint hiss. Left alone in the cold sterile cell, the two occupants stared in awkward silence until the young captain felt the need to break it.

"So..."

Suddenly the prisoner was directly in front of the other man, arms wrapping around the slightly larger build. The pale face pressed into the exposed neck, soaking in the warmth that radiated so freely from the tan body of his former best friend. Or perhaps he still was?

Born top side, his friend had always been warm. The tan skin, bright blue eyes, and blond hair rare in deep space, proof of being born on a planet unlike himself with pale skin, inky black eyes, and dark hair. Trademark signs of an old spacer family, nobility.

Tentative arms hugged the prisoner back. There were no tears or words exchanged. They just stood in silence, arms around each other in a comforting embrace.

Lost in their reunion, neither noticed the panel open, their old captain peering in and watching them closely. The man regarded them with narrowed eyes before the panel was closed leaving the two with their private moment.

Minutes passed, but neither man made any indication they were going to release the other until an awkward silence hung in the air and the prisoner could feel the younger man beginning to shift. The captain was trying to manoeuvre him towards the retractable bed, and he stubbornly locked his body, refusing to be moved. A faint smile crept onto his face, but it was hidden, his face still pressed into the tan throat.

Growing frustrated, the captain eventually scooped the smaller body into his arms and carried him towards the bed.

"Put me down you moron!" the prisoner shouted. He flailed, but the grip around his frail body was too strong and he scowled at the warm laughter the echoed through the room. "I can walk."

The captain snorted at the comment. "We both know you're sick and shouldn't be moving around," he replied. "I'm not stupid enough to actually think I would have been able to catch you and drag you back here otherwise."

Silence rang out in the cell once again as the smaller body was placed on the uncomfortable bed. But what the captain said was true. No one in the known galaxy could have caught him unless he wanted to be found. If he hadn't have fallen ill, then he would still be flying from one seedy spaceport to the next, hunting down any clue as to the whereabouts of his prey.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the prisoner brushed of the younger man as he went to prevent him from getting up again, and sat on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor. He sensed more than felt the captain take a seat beside him close enough to reach out and touch.

The silence wore on until the fidgeting captain couldn't take it any longer. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asked.

"Hn."

The younger man huffed running a hand through his unruly blond spikes in agitation. "You dragged me out of bed in the middle of a sleep cycle to talk," he groaned. But the older man remained silent. "Fine, I'll just leave!" He stood abruptly but was stopped by gentle hand on his arm.

Head bowed, the prisoner could feel the other man's stare, but he sat quietly, his hand still resting on the captain's arm. He didn't know what possessed him to reach out, but his slender fingers slowly closed around the tan wrist.

"Do you remember that day we stole the enviro-suits and snuck out of the station?" he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper, but he knew the other would hear him. He always did.

The bright blue eyes widened in surprise as the younger man took his seat again. "Yeah, we were racing along the surface."

"Then you tripped like the clumsy moron you are and started floating out into open space." The grip around the wrist tightened. He could see the blond head nod in his peripherals.

The captain swallowed. "If you hadn't acted to so fast, I would have been lost and died," he murmured. He started at the pale fingers wrapped around his wrist, the blond admiring the clash of caramel and cream. "You used a carbon fibre wire to secure yourself and dove after me. I remember. We hung for what seemed like forever, clinging to each other."

"Do you remember what you made me promise that day?"

Smiling softly, the younger man looked over at the prisoner. "To never let me go."

Finally looking up from where his hand rested in his lap, the older man met the bright eyes shining with hope. The sting of regret was back. Years had been devoted to ridding himself of his humanity, and here, a simple smile made the walls he'd built around his heart crumble. The effect his best friend had on him was baffling. But the question remained as to whether the man sitting beside him was still his best friend.

"I broke that promise," he whispered. "I tried to break our friendship, the bond that sealed us together, and even after all these years, you were still chasing me." He was only met with the heartbreaking smile and more silence.

"They say you haven't been eating," the captain said. He tore his gaze away from the endless pools of onyx, breaking their reverie.

"I don't trust them," the prisoner snorted. He almost chuckled at the exasperated sigh. Even after all this time, his friend hadn't changed. Still the compassionate fool he had always been.

The younger man looked as if he wanted to strangle his friend. "They're not going to poison you," he cried, throwing his arms in the air. "You're not a prisoner of w..."

"No, I'm not," the other man snapped. "There would have to have been a war for me to be a prisoner of war, moron. I'm a traitor." He felt the body beside him stiffen, but he was delusional about his place. In his need for revenge, he had betrayed his friends and family.

"I..." the captain trailed off. "No you're not." He said it with so much conviction; it was hard to doubt him.

A dark chuckle echoed through the room. "Oh? And what would you call me?"

"Confused," the younger man supplied. "How old were you when you left? Thirteen or fourteen?"

Silence washed over them yet again, and the prisoner let his friend's words wash over him, internalizing them. Was it really that simple?

"I never gave up hope. I knew you would come home one day."

The inky eyes darted up, peering at the smiling face. It didn't make sense. No one should believe in another so much after such a betrayal. "But I didn't come home," he reminded. "I was caught.

Twisting his arm free of the loose grip, the captain scooted over on the bed and slipped and arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "That doesn't matter," he stated. He looked ecstatic. "What matters is that you're home."

Scowling, the pale man tried to shrug off the offending arm, refusing to admit that the warmth was comforting. "I don't see why you care, or why they're trying to heal me when they're only going to execute me in the end." He shuddered at the memories of the treatments he underwent daily. "Why not just let nature take its course?"

"Do you want to live?"

"What?" The prisoner was shocked by the sudden question.

Did he want to live? His entire life had been devoted to one thing; revenge. But why? Five years had passed and he was no closer to his goal. His best friend, if he could even be called that, was willing to welcome him with open arms and forget the past.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back up into the hopeful crystal gaze, warm breath fanning over his pale cheeks. They were only inches apart, and he swallowed nervously, pink tongue darting out to moisten his chapped lips. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"Do you want to live?" Was it that simple?

Hope you enjoyed! Please review! I'd love to get feedback on this story.

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