Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Adam Fourth Interlude Part A

He could feel the rise and fall of his chest, hear the inhalation and exhalation of each breath so he knew despite the tight band that had wrapped itself around his chest that he hadn't suffocated, that he was still alive. His mouth was dry and his lips were chapped so he knew despite the rough, slightly swollen feel of his tongue that he hadn't died of dehydration, that he was still alive. Despite the fact his stomach griped and twisted itself into knots and felt empty and hollow he knew he hadn't starved that he was still alive. But only just.

He'd given up. Sitting wedged into his corner too terrified by what lurked in the dark to move anymore. Too terrified to make the slightest noise. Too terrified to even think. The familiar sounds of metal scrapping on the stone floor as his meal tray was pushed through the grill was ignored. The thoughts of the cool water that was waiting just on the other side of his cell was pushed away. The thought of leaving the sanctuary of his corner and venturing alone into that waiting maw of inky night too much for him to even contemplate. He felt tired and lethargic, like an empty husk waiting to crumble and turn to dust and then blow away on the slightest breeze. His thoughts were muddled and sluggish. In his head memories of a time before were overwhelmed by the darkness and isolation inside of him. He no longer knew what was real and what just came out of the black. The things he thought he remembered becoming dreamlike, insubstantial as smoke, slipping away from him until he began to wonder if he'd just made them up to stop himself from being so alone. Maybe none of those people or places existed outside of his mind. Maybe he'd made them up, conjured them out of the darkness and there'd never really been a time before the darkness.

When it finally happened he'd been so stunned that even while he'd been busy screwing his eyes tightly shut against the agonising pain that lanced itself into his pupils like needles. Or when he was crying out making a mournful noise more like a croak from a throat feeling parched dry and mostly from a lack of use, his days of singing and rambling poetry recitals long in the past. There had been silence then and with his eyes closed he'd wondered if he'd imagined it. He no longer really trusted his eyes or ears, his mind was so adept at conjuring up nightmares or mirages to torment and tantalise him with. For a long moment he hesitated afraid to open his eyes to find out that the vision wasn't real, and yet he was also nearly just as terrified that when he opened his eyes to look that it would be real.

Slowly he let his eyes flutter open just a crack, his heart hammering in his chest so hard and sounding so loud in his ears that he feared that he was having a heart attack. As he opened his eyes again he had to fight against the instinctual urge to close them again as once again pain stabbed sharp and jagged through his head.

It hadn't been a mirage. Yet as he blinked up through watering eyes at the sharp, bright rectangle of golden light that spilled it's bright reflection in a beam across the stone floor it felt unreal and disconnected from him, as if it were merely a dream plucked from thin air. Reaching up he rubbed the heels of his hands across his eyes wiping away the tears that the glare had produced, and hoping to wipe away the dull ache that had begun to pulse behind he eyes. Dropping his hands back to his lap he could finally make out the dark silhouette that stood in the open doorway. He couldn't discern any features but it was someone, a person, another human being. That knowledge made something break inside his chest and this time the tears that rolled down his face and fell salty and stinging onto his chapped lips were from a release of pent up emotions that he hadn't even previously been aware of – relief, joy, sadness, fear. Conflicting feelings that warred within him threatening to overwhelm him. Then a voice rang out, deep and clear,

"Hello Adam, I've come for you. It's time for you to come out into the light."

At first he didn't know what to do. Fearful for a second that if he moved he'd shatter the moment and the golden light and his saviour would both be swallowed up in the darkness. But then the figure standing in the light held out his hand towards him saying,

"It's alright Adam. I'm here now, you can come out."

A different fear gripped him now. A fear that if he lingered too long then his hesitation might cause his saviour to change his mind and leave him here forever alone in the dark. So taking a shaky breath he braced his hands against the walls and pulled himself upright. For a moment his legs felt too unsteady and weak to support him, but a fierce determination not to be left behind seized him and pulling himself up straight he took slightly hesitant, slightly wavering steps forward.

As he moved into the shaft of light that spilled in through the open door across the floor he was sure he felt warmth flowing through his body, heating his chilled flesh, making his very bones burn momentarily. Making sure he stayed in the light he walked towards the man who was waiting for him. As he approached the door he could see that the silhouetted figure was that of a man about the same height as himself, muscular with dark hair and eyes. That was about all the detail he could process at that moment because as he approached him the man held out his hand to him, and when he reached out, after the merest pause, and took it he felt warm skin under his fingers. For a moment he allowed himself to bask in the sensation of real human touch after so long alone.

He allowed himself to be drawn forward by the other man's grip on his hand and he was led out of his dark prison into the full glare of light and air and space. As he looked around everything was bright and sharp. Colours vibrated with energy, lines were crisp, different textures stood out and begged to be touched. He wanted to reach out and feel everything. His attention was pulled back to the other man when he said,

"It's good to have you here Adam. I've been waiting for you for such a long time. My name's Taylor and I'm going to look after you from now on." Then he paused for a moment before asking, "What's your name?"

The question confused him and he could detect a certain steel in the other man's, in Taylor's, voice when he'd asked it. He wasn't sure why but somehow he understood that this was probably the most important question he'd ever had to answer in his life, and everything hinged on his answer – his future, his happiness, his entire existence even. Suddenly the clouds of confusion cleared from his mind and determined to survive he pushed any lingering doubts from his mind and hesitantly smiling back at the other man he replied in a quiet uncertain voice,

"Adam…my name's Adam."

The other man seemed to visible relax at his words and even smiled back at him briefly as he said,

"Good…good Adam. Now let's see about getting you cleaned up shall we? A shower, a shave and some hot food. Then you'll soon feel better and you can start to settle into your new home." Taking a few steps towards a set of wooden stairs, and more importantly away from the cell, he waved his hand to indicate that Adam should follow him before adding, "Come on Adam I'll show you to your rooms and you can get cleaned up and rest before we…talk."

After only the briefest of hesitations Adam followed Taylor, but as he reached the first step he couldn't stop himself from quickly glancing back over his shoulder at the open door to his cell and the darkness that lay beyond it. Shuddering he silently vowed to himself that he'd do whatever it took to make sure that he'd never have to set foot in there again.