A/N: This is certainly not a light-hearted story, and I don't pretend that the characters are really written 'in character'. I just wanted to do something serious with Boy Meets World. If you don't like it for some reason, please let me know why, so I can work on it. I always appreciate constructive criticism!

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4.

"I…" Eric took another deep breath, trying to postpone the moment. "You should have seen him, Shawn. I- I already told you… They beat him up. So badly. He is all black and blue, his ribs are poking through his skin! He's starving – Shawn, he can barely stand up straight! That wasn't Jack in there, Shawn. That was a mere whisper of what Jack used to be… and I don't think…"

The tears came back again and more words got stuck in his throat. Eric, still standing straight up against the wall, slowly sank down on the dusty floor. He held his head in his hands, trying to prevent his mind from repeating the scene over and over again, making him unable to think of anything else.

Shawn couldn't say a thing, as Eric's words began to finally sink in, and his shoulders dropped slowly. He nervously ran a hand trough his hair out of old habit, standing in the middle of the room, lost.

"Eric?" Topanga said softly instead, as she took a step closer. Eric didn't look up, staring at the opposite side of the room with a distant gaze in his eyes.

"Eric, I understand how mad you were when you saw Jack like that, but…" She sighed and fumbled with her hands for a moment. "It's not that we're blaming you, Eric, but you did make it a lot harder now for us to find a way to get Jack out of here. If we don't give them our full cooperation… They see a reason in even the smallest disruption to restrain us from doing anything. And we can't afford that, Eric. You hear me?"

Eric looked up, focusing his blurred stare on Topanga. "What? Oh, yeah, I heard you. I'm sorry Topanga… But I just wanted those bastards to pay, you know. For what they did to him. You would have done the same if you'd jus seen him, Shawn," he answered, turning towards Shawn.

Shawn nodded slowly, not really paying attention to what Eric was saying. He started to walk up and down the small room with small steps.

Topanga walked to her small business suitcase and took out a book, covered in black leather that seemed all worn out. She then went and sat down next to Eric, studying his red eyes for a moment, letting him come to his senses.

"Now, Eric, can you tell me what happened exactly inside that room?" She automatically fell back in her typical role as a lawyer, instinctively trying to be as objective as possible.

Eric looked at her for a moment, trying to rearrange his memory. He tried to remember as much as possible, but the image of Jack in his awful torment kept haunting every word he said. He shook his head in frustration. It was no use. The memory loop kept playing in his head.

"Just relax," Topanga calmed him down. "We'll take it from the beginning. You entered the room. What did you see?"

Uncertainly, he began about how he had been alone inside the room at first, and how he had noticed the glass window in the middle of the room with the black receiver, the grey concrete, the dust in the corners, the black little spy windows.

Suddenly, he remembered the chair. And in a strange way, that old, ragged chair somehow triggered him. A tidal wave of memories flushed his mind, and his mouth could only barely keep up with his sudden thoughts.

He remembered the conversation he had with Jack, word for word. He remembered every detail of the room, even the face and clothing of the guard that had dragged Jack out of it. He described Jack's body, and the desolated, tortured look in his eyes the best he could. Topanga wrote down as much as she could, not once interrupting Eric with a question. She didn't need to, and was amazed by the amount of detail Eric gave her.

Finally, Eric noticed he had reached the end of his description, and ended with his entrance in the waiting room, slightly out of breath. Topanga was still writing, and frequently adding small notes to previous pages of the report. At last, she was done and lay down her pencil quietly.

Silence kept the entire room under a spell for a moment.

"Well…" Topanga finally broke the tension. "I think we can't do more than we did today, right?" Cory nodded in agreement, and walked up to his wife with her suitcase. He helped her up, and Topanga put away the notebook carefully. Eric got up as well, shuffling to the door that was being left open by the officer. Shawn was the last to exit the waiting room. He turned around a last time.

"We'll get you out of here, bro'. Trust me. Don't worry. Just… hang in there, okay?" he whispered, barely hearable.

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A/N: Okay, this wasn't the most interesting chapter so far, but I had to continue the story with some things that had to be cleared up. Next time there'll actually be NEW things, this was just necessary. :) Okay?