"Take off your clothes."
Mike heard the voice as if from far away. Distant and distorted as if through miles of never ending water. A fragmented echo coming from the other end of a long tunnel.
He opened his sleep encrusted eyes to the fluorescent lights. Trevor stood framed within the doorway of the room.
"Morning, love."
The words flew over Mike's head. The concept of morning, of day and night, of time, had gradually been growing more and more foreign to him as his days wiled away in this room of endless bright light.
He sat up in the bed, moving steadily and carefully. His throat was dry, lips cracked, he longed for a cool drink of water. Would have killed for even a sip.
Trevor hurried closer to the bed. He held out his right hand, waited for Mike to give him his and then, tenderly helped him up.
As Mike stood, Trevor bent down removing a key from his pocket and placing it in the cuff around Mike's ankle.
He stood and took a step away from the mattress. A smile played at the corner of his lips, "Take off your clothes."
Mikes hands moved slowly over his own body as he removed first his filthy shirt then his equally as filthy pants. Stark naked he stood, feeling nothing but a blank emptiness, his arms to his sides.
His once beautiful body damaged to beyond recognition. Bruises lay where cold hands had roughly made contact. Open wounds where a thin metal rod had struck struck his skin. Few wounds only now healing; some feeling like they never would. Blood and dirt mixing and congealing, covering him in a thin film.
Trevor turned slightly, walking the short space to the door.
If this had been two weeks earlier, if Mike had not been aware of the threat before him, if Mike was anyone else, he would have tried to make a run for it.
But it wasn't, and he was, and he wasn't, and he couldn't.
His broken body would not allow it. The strength needed to act could not be summoned. Bones jutted out where they should not have. His skeleton on full display; his legs and arms, meatless; the cage his ribs created adorning his chest.
Trevor stood before him once again. He had brought in with him two buckets filled to the rim with water - one soapy, one clear - and a bath sponge.
He dipped the sponge into the soapy water. With an affectionate touch he began to scrub away at the grime covering Mike's body.
"Your body may be damaged, but it is only temporarily. You will heal and you will be more beautiful than ever before." Trevor's voice filled up every inch of the room, a strange and unlikely comfort.
A beautiful, soft, luxurious length of material caressed Mike's body. Trevor maneuvering the towel with careful expertise.
In that moment it was hard for Mike to not feel a sense of being cared for. He hadn't felt cared for in so long that the realisation struck him.
His body was dry and the towel removed. Once again he was left standing undressed, his feet now cold and wet from the puddle gathered there.
Trevor gathered up the buckets and briefly left the room. Mike wrapped his bony arms around himself, the cold beginning to seep in. Trevor returned, his face lit up with a bright smile. He carried before him a neatly folded parcel.
"I come bearing gifts," his smile broadened as he spoke, dimming once he looks at Mike.
"Michael?" he prodded. "Michael, is something wrong? I know that things have been hard, but now everything will be better. You have returned to me. My beautiful prince. Smile. Smile, for we are together again."
Mike looked at the other man directly in the eyes, saw the look of the crazed hiding behind those beautiful eyes.
"Trevor." He tested the name on his tongue for the first time after so many years. His voice harsh and cracking, yet still beautiful. "Trevor. We are together again."
And he forced himself to smile.