SingMyLullabySweet666: Well, considering I still have writers block for my other stories, I thought I would continue on with the An Angel That Will Sing No More series. This too will be a one-shot, however long, we'll see. Don't worry though, I will continue with the other stories as soon as a thought or idea comes to mind. (Wish it would hurry up)

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho or any of the characters featured in this story. I do not make any profit off of this work. All right are reserved by Yoshihiro Togashi.

Chapter Warning(s): Angst, Adult Language, and Soft Violence.

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Flight of Freedom

Midnight. Time of darkness. Dark. Pitch black. It consumes the light; hides it; kills it; drinks from it the pureness. It comes like the plague, slipping through the back halls, quiet as a mouse. Quiet. Time of quiet. So quiet. So silent. Too silent. Midnight. The time of blackness, the time of tainted ness. Midnight. The time of silence. Midnight, here, it is the time of rest, of unconscious slumber, induced dreams of sugar coated lies, but not for all. Midnight, it is the time of forgotten memories and omitted nightmares. Midnight…. How I adore thee.

"He's dangerous…."

"I know."

"….He's attack numerous personal here."

"So I've heard."

"Almost killed three of them"

"How terrible."

"He'll have to be tied down"

"Understandable."

"He won't say anything."

"Perhaps."

"You still wish to see him?"

"Very much so."

"I see….. Well, then, I grant permission to your visitation request."

A moment's pause and a "Thank you" later, silence consumed all.

The large steel door clicked once before sliding open with a sound of metal grinding down on metal. Two silhouettes stood in the doorway to the solemn room, both dressed in the sickening white. They entered, one after another, single-file as they are ordered to do, as they are trained to do, like soldiers, like dogs; dogs of false lies, of the false pureness of the sterile white-washed walls. They closed in on the helpless figure tied down to the bed, who eyes were vacant, listlessly starring up at the dull grey ceiling, seeing everything and at the same time, see nothing. Cruel grins passed over the duo's faces as they reached out and grasped the man in their grip of iron. But there was no fight back, no movement, no even a flinch from the barren young man. The smiles disappeared in a wave of un-satisfaction.

"Kurama…."

Though expecting a response, a flicker of recognition, none came. Nothing. The two men shrugged and began to untie the once fiery red-head from his bed and even as the leather straps, the binds of torture, the restraints of freedom fell away, he never moved, never even gave the slightest hint that he was there at all. He remained as the lifeless corpse he mimicked. Not a twitch, not a spasm, nothing. Just nothing. With that, the two men could do nothing but frown in discontent.

"Kurama," one of the white false saviors tried again, though failing miserably to get the attention of the man before them. The continued speaking anyway, as if there was nothing wrong in the first place, "you have a visitor."

Then it came, like lightening emerald green danced with steel grey, bore into them like fire, burning a hole through their exterior to stare directly into their core. The owner felt a shiver crawl the length of his spine under the dead penetrating stare but maintained his composer.

"It's true. So behave, otherwise, Dr. Echles will revoke the man's visitation rights towards you and send him on his way." The other, much younger, man spoke up, his voice raspy and heavy with the smoke of so many cigarettes. Kurama's inanimate eyes turned to him before shifting towards the floor as thin pale arms came up, palms facing upward, knowing what was to come.

The two men began to bind Kurama, first his wrist, then his waist and finally his ankles. Like a caged animal, Kurama was led from his cell by his bindings, the men pulling this way and that to get the unresponsive male to follow them, to keep up. And he did, without so much as a word, too lost in humiliation, his shame to dare speak. He couldn't look at himself these days, couldn't bare the sight that stare back at him. Everyday, he fought a war against a mirror, screaming, pleading that what he was looking at wasn't him. He told him that so much he began to believe it, then he would see himself in another mirror, and the world crashed down on his shoulders heavier than it was before. So, with his head tipped down, his eyes hiding behind his curtain of red hair, the young man followed, like a beaten pup with no where else to go, he followed.

They walked for sometime, turning down this hallway, veering into that one, and all the time, the young man could feel his heart beat in his chest, pounding, thudding like a jack-hammer. He feared it would burst forth from him, but nothing so vile ever occurred. He could, however, hear the thumping in his ears as they reached the visitation hall. And when they stopped outside of a white metal door with the words "VR-3" sprayed across them, he began to shake. The chains rattled with the vibrations and the men pulling him along paused and turned to stare at him, eyes searching miserable anxious eyes. One smiled in cruel content while the other shook his head in sorrowful sympathy.

The unlocked the door and opened it, pushing the red-head into the room first as they quickly filed in. However, the emerald eye man couldn't look up, too nervous, too anxious as to who would come see him. He hadn't the strength… There was no courage to be found in his soul anymore. They stole it away from him, the prison and its guards that it. The men turned and began to speak to the visitor.

"Here are some precautions and warnings you should know," the oldest started as he combed a hand through his graying hair, "1) you are not to come in contact with the patient, it usually upsets him when someone touches him; 2) remain on your side of the table, invading the patient's personable space might make him uneasy and nervous which can lead to a bad ending; 3) this man is dangerous and so, for your protection as well as his, he will be chained down to the chair," the man paused and looked over and signaled for the younger male to proceed to tie the man to the metal chair on the opposite side of the table. He then continued, "4) the door will remain locked at all times incase the patient tries to escape; 5) if you need assistance, if anything is wrong, or you wish to leave, knock on the door three times and we will unlock it for you; and finally 6) you have at least one hour with the patient before he must return to his cell, use your time wisely. Any questions?"

After a long moment of silence, the older man nodded and signaled for the other male to follow him, and like an obedient dog, he followed close on his heels. The older man paused before he walked out, turning back to the man sitting opposite of the red-head, "We'll be just outside the door if you need us." He disappeared as the white metal door blocked him from view.

Tension quickly filled the room, engulfing every square inch of the room as the silence grew thicker and thicker between the duo. Kurama kept his head down, eyes staring distantly at the white iron table that was bolted to the floor in front of him. He didn't want to look up and at the same time, he needed to look up. Someone had cared enough to come visit him. After nearly eight years behind the prison, he had a visitor, had someone sitting in front of him who cared enough to see him, the real him, not the one the psychiatrists kept trying to convince him he was, not the psycho everyone made him out to be. He wanted to smile, the dance for joy, to cry tears of happiness, to do something to show that he appreciated what the other was doing for him, but he didn't dare to do any of these things. Such things as these had gotten him trouble in the past, the lead him here, to his miserable voided state of wantonness. So he did all that was expected of him and stared at the table in distant wonder.

He could feel them though, those other's eyes boring into his body, drinking in everything that was him, that was leftover after everyone had beat him down, after he had beat him down. He wanted to look up and meet those eyes in a pleading stare for love but who was he kidding, this person was not here for love, couldn't be. He wasn't granted such a pleasure in life. No, he wasn't allowed such a joy in life. And it ate him up inside.

He heard the other sigh, a deep rich sigh. The sound of the voice was semi familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it. It had been so long since he had seen a friendly face, a face that actually cared, therefore, it was only logical that he forget them overtime, something that brought tears to his eyes. A mistake on his part because that definitely got the man across from him curious because he voiced it so.

"Kurama, look at me."

He did the only thing he could and shook his head. He couldn't. Not after all this time. No, it would only kill him faster, and he was already dying. The tears threatened to pore over, rain down like a fountain but he wouldn't let himself cry, never again. His tears only brought him unnecessary pain, pain he didn't want, pain he was slowly suffocating under.

"Look at me."

Harsher this time but he still refused. He won't give in, won't allow himself to drown. Not now, not after all this time. He fought his urge to listen, to obey the command given like the animal he was.

"Kurama….."

Why did this person keep asking him to do something he had no will left for? He could feel the first tear leak and soon after, the rest rained down like a fountain from the sky.

"Kurama, please."

And it was that soft plea that broke his resolve, destroyed his will to resist the sinful temptation sitting across from him. It had been so long, so very long since he had seen a familiar face, and the urge to finally come face to face with someone who actually cared, with someone who didn't smother him under their securitizing glares. Emerald eyes glanced upward, still hidden behind his curtain of red hair before his head lifter upward, his miserable features revealed to his visitor. It was then realization smack him in the face as his eyes danced with blood red rubies that haunted his past, haunted his nightmares and kept him awake most hours of the day.

His voice left him and he forgot how to breathe. His body froze and his eyes widen, recognition clouding over as his body went rigid. A small, attempting apologetic smile kissed those lips across from him and like a mousetrap, his head and eyes snapped back to the table, shaken from the shock.

"Kurama…" the man questioned and Kurama shook his head furiously. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to forget either but at the moment, he knew, with his whole dead heart, he didn't want to be trapped there, not in front of this person.

"You're not real." It was the first thing that came to mind, the phrase he began to chant as he pulled at his restraints, trying so desperately to free himself, to run and hide, hide from the penetrating and calculating red eyes of his past. He repeated himself, this time much quieter, "You're not real."

Silence ticked by for a moment before the other across from him shifted and he felt a slim hand rest over his. Kurama flinched, shrinking back into the cold metal chair, swimming in the feelings of hard iron pressing and imprinting itself in his back. A choked scream escaped his plump lips and Kurama began to pull harder at his restraints.

"Kurama, please, calm yourself."

It was that same soft pleading tone that shot through his heart and forced his body to obey the soft spoken command from the other. He won't look up though. Not now. He couldn't. It was too much. He wasn't expecting his haunting past to be sitting across the table staring at him in his worn state. He wasn't expecting his reason for suicide to be there, no, he expected someone else, who he didn't know, but it diffidently wasn't this person.

Time slowly ticked by in silence and once more, he could hear the other sigh. Kurama flinched eternally as the sign registered along the line of agitation and frustration, warning signs from his past 'sessions' that told him that the person sitting across from him wasn't happy, not in the very least, and when someone wasn't happy, that usually spelled trouble for himself.

"Forty-five minuets left." The other said and Kurama's eyes lifted to the clock on the wall just opposite of the deceiving mirror. He was right; they had only forty-five minuets left. How could he survive? Then the voice turned back to him, "Kurama. We have to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." Kurama retorted after a few seconds. The other snorted in displeasure.

"How cliché of you." There was the anger that he had grown accustomed to and like a robot, he spoke out without even thinking.

"Sorry." He mumbled it but he knew that the man sitting across from him could hear him perfectly.

"Have they beaten you so badly Kurama that you speak unknowingly?"

Kurama flinched from the words that were spat from the other's mouth like venom, each harsh and cold, tearing into his already torn soul.

"Sorry." He mumbled once more and jumped when fist slammed down on the table. He kept his mouth glued shut and his eyes bored into the table, not daring to look up into the heated stare he knew he would be waiting for him.

"Damn it, Kurama, stop being so fucking weak. It's really pissing me off." The words hung in the air. They were poison, thick suffocating poison that brought tears back to Kurama's eyes.

"Sorry." His voice cracked, though he didn't mean for it to. He didn't want it to crack, to prove to the other that what he was saying was getting to him, but his body was hell bent on betraying him that day.

A growl of disgust irrupted the silence and Kurama felt himself swallowed by his shame. He was weak, he knew that. He had allowed others to break his spirit, allowed others to dominate his once proud exterior, leaving in their wake an empty shell of wants and dreams, of memories and what-use-to-be's. He could hear the metal chair scrap across the ground as the other stood up, could hear the sound of heavy boots clunk against the linoleum floor, and he felt a hand entangle themselves into his hair before he felt the harsh pull that forced his face upwards.

"I do believe I said look at me. I mean what I say, damn it! I don't like being ignored. I came here to see you and this is the thanks I get." A sharp pull of the hair and Kurama cried out.

"Stop….." it was a weak plea but a plea nonetheless. It fell to deaf ears, like so many of his pleas did.

"Damn it, if I knew you had allowed yourself to become to so weak I would have stayed in Renkai. I have better things to do there than to waste my time with you, a once proud fox who had allowed himself to fall." Another sharp pull and Kurama began to cry, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared up into heated rubies.

"Please…… stop….."

"Fuck, how did I ever fall in love with something as pathetic as you?" and with that and a final sharp tug, the other returned to his seat, bouncing his foot in agitation and irritation. Dark crimson eyes quickly glance upwards at the clock while Kurama leaned as far forward as the restraints would allow him and sobbed, his malnourished body trembling with each vibration that came from within. His hair fell once more in a curtain around his face, hiding his anguish from the view of his companion.

The other stood from his chair and began to gather is things. Emerald eyes looked up, tears still leaking and the sobs still racking his weak body but there, a flicker of desperation, of pleaded screamed out far louder than the misery that plagued his heart as he watched the love of his life get ready to walk out of his life once more. The man walked past his chair and rapped his knuckles against the door, three times, like he had been told.

Not a second later the metal door swung open and the two guards from earlier entered the room followed by that man that seemed to torment Kurama the most emotionally and mentally, Dr. Echles.

The two guards began to untie Kurama from his chair while Dr. Echles stopped the black-haired man on his way out.

"Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

The ruby-eyed man turned around and regarded him for a moment before he regarded Kurama for a longer period of time. He clearly saw the pleading in the emerald green eyes, the desperation for him to hear him cry out, hear his song and rescue him, but he chose to ignore it, to turn the other cheek. Without answering, the man turned his back and began to walk away.

Kurama, once unrestrained, in his blind desperation to seek out the warmth and love that the man had given him before, quickly smashed his elbow into one of the guard's face, relishing in the cracking of bone. Before the other had a chance to react, Kurama swept his feet out from under him, causing the man to rock back and fall, his head smacking against the iron table before falling unconscious to the ground a moment later. Dr. Echles turned around at the sound of a commotion and before he knew it, he was knocked back into the room with the door slamming shut in front of him. Cursing the red-head, he climbed to his feet and began his chase after his violent patient radioing others for assistance.

Kurama ran down the hall, following his former lover's footsteps as he raced to play catch up. Just ahead, he could see the black-haired man turn the corner down another hallway. Kurama sped up and when he reached the hallway, he nearly slipped as he raced around the corner. Relief, however, washed over him as he saw that his past lover was no more than fifty feet away from him, give or take a few.

"Hiei!" Kurama called out, his voice pleading and panicked as he raced to close the gap. Hiei's body froze in it's place before turning around to face him with somewhat shocked eyes. Kurama smiled slightly before calling out again, this time with more ecstasy than previous.

Finally, when Kurama reached Hiei, he collapsed into his former lover's arms. He snaked his thin boney arms around Hiei's torso as the other encircled his own around Kurama's waist to keep him standing, realizing that the red-head he was holding had no exerted that much energy in such a long time. Kurama pushed himself tightly against Hiei's body, barely registering that the male had grown quite a few feet over that last eight years that he had last saw him, standing nearly the same height as he was.

"Kur-Kurama?" Hiei stuttered, his mind so shocked by Kurama's desperate behavior that it couldn't form any other words than the man's name.

"Hiei…. Take me with you."

That snapped the other man back to reality as he gently shook his head no. He felt the red-head tightened his arms around him to a degree as he buried his head into the crook of his neck. "I can't do that, Kurama."

"Why not?" the words came so brokenly, each nearly destroying the red-head as he tried to come to terms with the fact that his love was going to leave him, again, and this time, for good.

"You have to stay here, fox." Knowing that Kurama wouldn't understand he felt he had to explain more, but not knowing how or what to say, he said the first thing that blurted out, "you need help."

That undid Kurama. He felt the red-head shudder in his arms as his body heaved for air, his frail mind not being able to come to terms with what the fire demon was trying to tell him. All he knew was that Hiei was leaving him here in this prison. Hiei didn't know whether to correct his statement or not when the suddenly felt the fox's feet give out from under him, the hope of the someone rescuing you so suddenly torn from the demon's grip that he never even had a chance to really grasp the idea became too much.

Crimson eyes looked up to see Dr. Echles rushing toward them both with a needle in his hand. The sudden urge to protect his lover, still mate by demon traditions and laws, took over him but he used all of his restraint to hold him back as he watched emotionlessly as Kurama was snatched his arms. The needle punctured the skin and the liquid disappeared into the vein below, all the while the fox demon continued to fight back, arching his back and trashing his arms and legs to free himself from the stronger man's grasp. Finally, as the drug began to kick in, Kurama settled by stretching his arms out, reaching for Hiei, coming close to grasping the other but remained at a distant nonetheless.

"Hiei!" Kurama cried out, his eyes dulling as an effect of the drug as it worked it's way through his system. "Please! Don't leave me!"

Hiei turned his back on the scene and began to walk away. He could still hear his mate call out for him as he turned the corner.

"Hiei! Don't leave me here alone!"

Hiei's pace quickened as he rushed to leave the building. He didn't want to hear those pleas, those desperate calls for him to turn around echoed in the silence.

"Hiei! Please! You're my freedom!"

And it was those words that sent the fire demon into a black blur of motion, fluttering through the halls and out the door within mere seconds. It was those words that nearly crushed the Forbidden One's resolve, that nearly made him run back there Jagan eye opened ready for blood and violence. Because by demon traditions, by demon laws, he and Kurama were still life mates, still together no matter what, still had that bond that had formed years ago and that was all the motive he need.

Kurama, however, fell into unconsciousness with a broken heart and a damaged spirit. He didn't dream that night and no nightmares plagued him. No, instead, he lost himself in his memories of his still life mate, wishing and willing him to come back through the bond they still shared, pushing all of his unwanted feelings through their link with the hope that his mate would answer them and come back to him, to steal him away. But when he opened his eyes in the morning, all he was saw was the dull grey ceiling looming over him. After that, he went numb.

"You went to see him?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He was a mess. I didn't think he would be so….."

"Broken? Damaged? Dead? Damn it, what the hell were you expecting to find?"

"I don't know, just not that."

"He's in a mental institution because he tried to commit suicide and wouldn't talk to anyone when he failed at his attempt. What else is there? He thinks we all think he's lost it."

"You almost sound like them."

"Sorry."

"I…. I… His words….."

"Go back for him."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"He needs help….."

"And you think he's getting it there!"

"No……"

"Damn it, the only help he needs right now if from you. You're the only one with enough power to restore him back to his former self."

"I know."

"You're the only one who can heal him!"

"I know."

"And you're the only one…."

"I know!"

"Do you now?

"Yes."

"Then why the hell are you still here?"

"I don't know….."

SingMyLullabySweet666: Well, I hope you liked it. It's ten pages worth of commitment for ya. Now if only I could get ideas like this or my other stories. (sigh) I hate writer's block. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think.

Possibility of a Sequel: Duh! I can't just leave you hanging like this!