I tilted my head to the side, looking at the pictures I had painstakingly balanced against the far wall of the cell. I had taken all of the happy photos and put them on the side where I usually slept; this way, we could see them all at once. This meant that I had to stay closer to Fenton's side of the cell, but I wasn't worried about that. He was staying away from me, respecting the fact that he wasn't regularly welcome in my personal space. I tucked my arm under my head to give myself a bit of a cushion and closed my eyes.

It had been an emotional day. I just wanted to drift off to sleep, hopefully forgetting all that had happened. I didn't want to remember that I was locked up; that my once-boyfriend had betrayed me (though, cynically, I had to ask myself 'which one?'); that Jazz and Tucker were dead; and that it had been months since I had seen my family. We had been missing for over a month now. I didn't want to imagine how hurt my parents were by my 'missing' status. I didn't want to imagine Jazz and Tucker, lying in a cemetery. I didn't want to think of betrayal, in any form. I didn't want to think of the cell bars that were keeping me from my freedom.

In short, ignorance was bliss and I wanted to go back to that.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Fenton?" I answered automatically.

"I …" He stopped himself, and then quickly said, "Sorry, never mind. It was a really dumb question. Forget I asked anything."

My eyes popped open. I stared up at the black ceiling and shook my head at myself.

"I thought you knew me better than that."

Fenton let out a grim sounding chuckle. "Sorry, I know; no unfinished sentences. But, look, it's really for the best I don't ask. I'm sorry."

"If you're worried about offending me, you've done worse."

"It's not something that needs to be thought about."

"Fenton, not knowing could drive me insane. I could get homicidal and then the only person around for me to kill would be you."

I heard the grumble of his voice, but not the actual words that were being said. Before I could comment my irritation on that as well, Fenton said louder, "I just don't want to make things worse."

I actually laughed at that. It was bitter and slightly maniacal, but it was a real laugh. It shook my belly, aggravating my wound, but laughing was worth it. Feeling the giggles roll through my mouth, popping across my tongue, before bursting free of my lips was the most beautiful sensation I had experienced in a very long time. It was something that I should have appreciated when it happened regularly. I should have taken the time to remember every chuckle that Tara instigated; every guffaw that Leslie inspired.

"Like it can get any worse," I commented, rolling my eyes though he couldn't see it. "Just ask the damn question, please."

"What did it feel like when you were dying?"

The question caught me completely off-guard. Though I wasn't sure where he was going to with his question, my suicide attempt never crossed my mind. I swallowed, unsure of how to respond. I had done my best to avoid thinking about that time in my life. It would have been too easy to sink into a desperate, depressed mindset in this place, and that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to be as strong as possible. I was trying so hard not to give up and sink into despair.

Finally, I could only respond with, "Why do you want to know?"

"I was thinking about Jazz and Tuck. I was wondering what they were feeling and I … I dunno. It was stupid. I'm sorry."

"You're half ghost. You know what it feels like," I mentioned, trying to avoid talking about what that moment felt like. I couldn't even be sure of what I had been feeling in that moment. Had I felt death reaching for me? Or had I simply been feeling the pills, knocking me unconscious?

"I need to know that they felt something different. When I died, it was too painful for words. I wouldn't wish that on anyone …" He thought for a moment. "Anyone but Vlad. I can't stand the thought of that sensation being the last one Jazz and Tucker knew. I just I want to be able to believe that dying can be peaceful but … I don't think it is."

"It is," I told him without thinking. "It doesn't feel like pain."

There was a rustle and then he said, "Now you're just telling me what I want to hear."

"Don't doubt me."

"If it wasn't painful, than what was it like?"

"Sleeping … almost. After I swallowed those pills, it was like a heavy duvet was covering me, except the feeling started in my stomach and worked its way through my veins. I just felt this weight grow until it reached my brain and then I felt … I don't know, surrounded, I guess, would be the best word. It was like falling into a heavy sleep."

"And it didn't hurt?" Fenton clarified.

"No," I confirmed. "It didn't hurt at all."

He let out a breath. "I'm sorry for asking. I didn't want to make you think about it."

"It's okay, but I'm going to go to sleep now."

"All right," he agreed softly. "Goodnight, Sam."

"Night," I answered, though we had no idea of knowing if it was actually night. For all we knew, it could be the middle of the day. A month had gone by and I had barely noticed. Time ceased to exist in this thrice-damned cell.

I readjusted my arm under my head, though my arm was – ironically – starting to go to sleep. I turned my nose in toward my elbow, closed my eyes, and tried to concentrate on dreams; a place where I could run away. Even while I was doing all of this, though, I knew it was all futile. I knew that I wasn't prepared to sleep. My insides were churning along with my mind.

Now that it had been brought up, I couldn't distract myself from thinking about that moment; the moment where I had been convinced that I was going to die. I had been happy about it. I had welcomed death with open arms because there had been nothing for me to strive for. There had been no shreds of happiness in my life. There was not a speck of laughter; there was no ray of sunshine.

So much had changed.

In the present moment, there didn't seem to be much of a difference but after returning to New Orleans, there had been a major change in my life. I had found friends there – namely in Leslie, but there were girls in her group who had welcomed me. Also, Tara and I had bonded. My mother loved me without abandon, showing me the unadulterated love she hadn't when I was growing up. My father and I had grown closer; instead of chasing him around, searching out his love by being the perfect 'Daddy's girl' we now had an actual relationship. Then there was Tucker, who had sought me out to apologize for all he had done as Fenton's accomplice, and had become one of my greatest friends. And Jazz, who had started out as my annoying, upbeat tutor-turned-acquaintance, was now a beloved confidante. I had people who loved me; people who I loved back. It was hard to imagine that they weren't all on the other side of this wall, waiting for Fenton and I to emerge.

It was easier to deny reality while I was inside of the cell. The outside world had felt surreal to me ever since I had entered this prison. There were times when I had forgotten that there was another world beyond the surrounding grey walls and that life hadn't always been Fenton, me and cell bars. It was hard to remember that there had been a time when I was always full, even when I thought I was hungry, because it was nothing compared to now. It was hard to think of being clean; of sitting under running water for hours, massaging soap across my skin.

I didn't know what life would be like when I got out of here because, frankly, I didn't know when I was getting out of here. Vlad was still requesting recordings, which meant that the police must still be bothering him about the two teenagers who had disappeared from his house. I wondered if that meant my parents hadn't believed the real recording was genuine. It might explain why Vlad had wanted to Danny to corroborate my recording with one of his own. I was glad that the police appeared to still be interested; it meant that they might find us after all. If the police didn't find their way to us, I didn't know how we would find freedom. I was injured; Fenton couldn't move without causing me crippling pain. We were both firmly bound. We couldn't save ourselves. Short of Vlad making a severe miscalculation or Elliot growing a heart, we would be here until we had served our ultimate purpose within Vlad's plan.

I wondered what the plan was. Unfortunately, Vlad didn't behave like a typical movie villain. He wasn't down visiting us every day, lording over the fact that he had successfully kidnapped us. He didn't stand on the other side of the cell bars, prattling about his plan and accidentally spilling details about how we could escape and how to bring him down when we finally did get out.

But that had to be what I thought about: getting out. I had to think about seeing my parents and my friends again. I couldn't focus on who would be missing. I couldn't focus on the hell I was currently living. I had to think about sunshine and music; laughter and warm beds. I had to think about freedom. If I didn't, I would go crazy.

(-.-)

Burning.

I felt like I was burning. I felt scarred from the inside out. I was going to disappear completely inside of this pain. I opened my mouth, trying to suck in air, but I only succeeded in releasing a weak scream. I scrabbled around, reaching for my ankle, desperately trying to rid myself of the chain. Something had caused Fenton to snap; something had caused him to use his powers. I dug my fingers wildly around the metal, but I wasn't capable of taking it off.

Tears of pain leaked out of my tightly closed eyes. I curled into a ball, trying to protect myself from the shock that was originating from inside of me. I could only wrap my arms around myself in a vain attempt to keep myself safe. Oblivious to the outside world, I stayed there, wrapped in tears and pain.

I slowly began to come aware again as a hand touched my shoulder. It was a cold hand and my brain foggily pulled up a name: Maheen. She rolled me over and I went with the motion of her hands. Her fingers brushed my injured side and goose bumps emerged on my flesh.

"While they're busy, I'm going to try and patch this up a bit better than I did last time. It doesn't look infected or anything, so it's going to be okay. I left some supplies over behind the toilet paper. Don't forget to throw the garbage in with your waste."

She continued with a running monologue as she continued to tend to me, though I registered less than half of it. Finally, her hands left my side and I heard a rummaging noise.

"Mouth, open," she commanded.

I did as she asked and felt two pills hit my tongue.

"Water," she warned me and I gratefully took a long drink.

"Again," she said.

I opened my mouth again, expecting more liquid. Instead, a hard square hit my back tooth. Hesitantly, I closed my mouth around it. It took me a moment to realize that she had given me a piece of chocolate.

"It'll be all right," she soothed me, her hand brushing my forehead. "He'll be back soon. For now, recover."

I didn't take time to wonder what she meant by 'he'll be back soon'. Rather, I sucked on the piece of chocolate and successfully soothed myself to sleep.

I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: Forever Sky.

~TLL~