"…Sam? Sam?"

Shaking, I stood and rounded the corner of the shower stall to face Fenton. I watched his eyes flick over the new clothing before bouncing around to the cell's new additions. Finally, he settled back on my face.

"Why are you crying?" Fenton asked. "Is everything okay?"

"I just … I want out of here. I can't stay in here anymore. I miss my mother, my father and I miss being able to fucking eat when I'm hungry and I miss being clean and I feel so selfish missing these things, but I do."

"It's not selfish. You're so strong. It's okay. It's okay to miss those things; I miss them as well. We'll be okay. We'll get out of here. We're going to fight him and get out of here. You'll see your mother and father soon. It'll happen."

I sunk down on the edge of the mattress, placing my head in my hands. Tears erupted from me once again, my nose beginning to run and my eyes beginning to swell. I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't even know why I started crying in the first place, but now that I had started, I couldn't stop. All I could do was taste the salt from tears on my tongue and think of home, a place that I missed so powerfully. I had tried to keep my longing at bay, but there was something about my shower and the warmth of this sweater that had brought everything to the surface.

There was a rustling noise and I felt him come and sit next to me.

"This is hard. I know that it's hard. I – I wish I had the right words to say right now, but I don't. I really fucking don't. I know it's my fault we're in here and I wish I knew how to fix it. But, I will try harder to fix it. It's going to work out here, okay. Just remember what I told you: you're going to get out of here."

"Shut up," I choked out. "I just … I want to be alone."

He drew in a trembling breath. "Is that a shower?"

"Mhm," I confirmed. "You have new clothes by the side of it. I put them there."

"I … I'll go do that."

I didn't answer him. I kept my eyes shut and my world black as he moved from the mattress. I listened to his chain drag across the floor and then I heard the foreign sound of a shower turning on. Once I was sure Fenton was gone, I threw myself down onto the mattress. I dragged a pillow toward me, curling around it. I was enveloped by the strange softness; something that was once so familiar to me was now the exact opposite. I pulled a blanket over my head and then I fell still. It was growing warm under the blanket, and I gladly embraced the feeling.

I was warm. I was sobbing. I was still trapped.

All I wanted, was out.

(-.-)

I must have fallen asleep. I felt as though I were boiling to death from the heat under the blankets. My face felt stiff and gross from my crying. In a weird way, though, I felt refreshed. I no longer felt as though the world was collapsing on top of me. I felt … ready. Yes, I felt prepared to start actively looking for a way out. I wanted nothing more, in that moment, to explode out of the cell and I finally felt as if I was in a place to do that.

I tossed the blanket off my body; the cool air washing over me. I sat up and took a deep breath, stretching my arms and legs, but careful not to stretch my side. Though my wound hadn't hurt as much lately, which I attributed to good bandaging on Maheen's part, I didn't want to aggravate it. I was in the process of attempting to crack my spine when I noticed a sound: the shower was still running. Either Danny had a new goal of looking like a prune, or I hadn't been asleep as long as I thought I had been.

"Fenton?" I called out.

There was no response. I repeated his name and received the same answer: nothing. I wondered if he was still respecting my wish to be left alone or maybe I had been overly cranky with him earlier and so he was ignoring me. Still, in this cell, there was no room for not answering one another. I didn't know what had been in the water to knock us out, but I was instantly worried that it might have had a negative side effect on Fenton. The thought that Vlad had taken him again crossed my mind.

I launched to my feet and headed slowly toward the shower. As much as I wanted to investigate, I also didn't want to discover him naked. I inched forward slowly, thinking that if I could catch movement, then I could go and hide before he thought I was peeping on him. There was no shower curtain, which made this mission especially dangerous. I leaned forward, looking for movement, and then I spotted his hand. It was lying outside the shower and it didn't look animated.

"Fenton?" I said, hoping that he would answer me.

He didn't.

I immediately swore in my head and dashed forward, forgetting about my goal of not seeing him naked. Now, the only thing I wanted was for him to be alive. I reached inside of the stall and turned off the water flow. That finished, I put my hand on his chest, as I had too many times before. As always, there was a wave of relief as I encountered a heartbeat. I took my hand off his skin and picked up his towel, spreading it over his genitals and upper thighs. Once he was (slightly) decent, I kneeled there, wondering what I was supposed to do with him now. He was much too heavy for me to move, and I didn't know if I could rouse him. I'll admit this: I was worried about waking him, if only because of the embarrassment that would come from his lack of clothing.

I sighed and took a long look at him. He was lying awkwardly, the shower stall being much smaller – horizontally – than his body. His neck was at a strange angle, his legs caught up underneath of him. One of his hands was across his stomach while the other was outside of the shower stall. I sighed once more and then I leaned forward and began to shake his arm. As he moved, the towel I had placed over him shifted. Luckily, I didn't notice anything dirty but I did notice a thick metal band around his lower waist. I frowned and stared, realizing what it was a beat after. It was like the shackle I had on my ankle, but much larger. I had never noticed that one before.

"Fenton," I hissed. I moved my hands more to his chest and shook him again. "Wake up!" I exclaimed loudly, hoping that the sound would rouse him.

Slowly, he began to twitch. The hand that had been laying across him moved to push at my hands.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, clearly still caught in whatever dream he'd been having.

"Now," I argued.

His eyes slowly opened and he focused on me. "Sam?"

"Get dressed," I said, suddenly flushing with awkwardness. I wanted to be as far away from the shower stall as I could get before he realized how very not clothed he was. "Quickly."

"Is something going on?" Danny asked as he began to sit up.

"No," I blurted before standing. I turned my back on him and went over to my side of the cell; the place where he couldn't reach me.

I picked up the stack of photos – Fenton's memories. When the shower, toilet, and everything else had been brought in, the pictures had been moved from against the wall and placed into a stack. As Fenton dried himself off and began to get dressed, I put the pictures back up against the wall. Like last time, I only put the happy ones on display. Everything else was placed face down in the corner of the cell; there if we needed them, but out of sight otherwise.

Though never out of mind,I thought grimly, thinking of Tucker and Jazz, bloody and bruised. Their destroyed faces flashed in front of me for a brief moment. I blinked forcefully and focused on their photographed smiles, looking at my favourite one: the one where they were together. Feeling as calm as I could, I spoke to Fenton.

"Are you decent?"

"Never," he chuckled for a moment. "But I'm not naked."

I rolled my eyes, though I let out my own giggle. Humour had been rare lately; it was nice to hear something that actually made me laugh. I turned around and walked toward him. He was sitting on the mattress, his back against the wall. I climbed onto the mattress as well, although I sat up by the pillows, my back was against a different wall.

"So, did must I pass out?" Fenton asked.

I shrugged. "No idea. I fell asleep."

"Oh." He was quiet for a moment.

He was wearing new clothes as well. He had on blue jeans, a black button up shirt, and on top of that, a plain grey hoodie over his button up. I toyed with the edge of my skirt and thought again about how nice it would have been to wear pants. I cursed my ankle shackle … Then the thought occurred to me.

"How did you get your pants on?" I yelped.

Fenton's blue eyes widened. "How did I … Wait, what?"

My blush, which I thought might have been fading, came back in full force. "I mean, um, didn't you have an ankle shackle on?"

"They took it off," Fenton explained. He tugged at his pant legs, revealing thick socks like the ones I was wearing and his bare ankles. "But they replaced it with this –" he lifted his shirt and hoodie up a little so I could see the thick metal band I had noticed earlier, "- and this." He pulled down the zipper on his hoodie to reveal his neck, where there was another metal band.

"Oh, ouch." I mumbled. "That's got to hurt."

Fenton shrugged. "Not really. And there's still a lot of slack on the chains; I just can't go anywhere with them without hurting you."

"Those probably won't be any easier to get off," I mumbled.

"No, probably not," Fenton agreed. He then winced. "I hate to ask, but my leg is really starting to bother me."

"Oh, right. I think they put the pills over by the food."

I crossed back to my side of the room, evaluating our stock pile. There was more pain medication and antibiotics, as well as a stocked First Aid Kit. Our food and water supplies had been built back up. I grabbed two bottles of water, the medication, and a bag of trail mix. I spread it out across the bed and Fenton grabbed for the pills and water.

"How's your side been feeling lately?" He asked after swallowing. "I haven't heard you say anything about it."

"It hasn't really been bothering me," I revealed. "So, it must be healing. I've still been trying not to stress my side though."

"Smart," he mumbled, and then he yawned. "Does it look better?"

"I can't make myself look at it," I answered. "It just … it would freak me out far too much."

"Makes sense." He yawned again. "Fuck. I feel like I've been sleeping forever. I don't want to go to sleep again."

"Mmm, so let's talk about something," I proposed. "Like how we're going to escape. That seems important."

"I have no idea," he groaned. "I'm really not smart enough to figure out something like that. I really wish I was but I'm a fucking dumbass. All that I have are powers and I can't use them. I'm nothing but a dumbass with stupid powers and … Fuck."

"You can't think like that. You're –"

"You can't say it," Danny interrupted me. "You really can't. You're the person who probably knows it best."

"We …" I hesitated. "Let's not talk about that."

Fenton hung his head. "Sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's just that it's probably better to avoid certain things while we have to spend so much time together, right?"

"Right," he agreed softly. And then he grabbed his blanket and pillow and began to slide from the mattress.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

He glanced at me, confused. "I think it's best I try to sleep after all. I was just going to make a spot on the floor."

"You could stay up here," I said. "Now that there's a mattress it wouldn't be fair to make you sleep on the floor."

"Thanks." He rearranged his pillow and blanket. "But I'll move as soon as you need me to."

"It's all right," I said.

Fenton lay down. "Night."

"Night," I replied, even though we had no idea what time of day it was.

It took only a few minutes for him to fall asleep. I moved from the bed, over to the wall where our chains were anchored to stone. Mine was on the opposite side of the room from the mattress – Fenton's connected to a different place. I looked at my anchor and pulled on it, but there was no movement. I felt my fingers around it, as I had done before, but there was no give to the connector or to the wall. I wished again for Vlad's severing device. There must be some sort of technology at play, here. This couldn't be a simple chain attached to a stone wall; otherwise, there was the possibility for it to become loose. For the first time, I placed my hand against the stone wall and wondered what was on the other side of it. I wondered if Vlad had other prisoners beyond the two of us.

I thought of Maheen and the other ghostly servants that Vlad was sure to have. I wondered how they came to be here; how they came to be under his control. I wondered if there was a chance to free them, after we were free. Or if they were trapped here forever and Danny and I were doomed to the same thing.

It's my birthday! It's crazy that one year ago, I was publishing chapter 14 of Wonderwall, and two years before that, I was posting chapter 7 of Reflections!

I don't own anything recognizable! Thanks to my betas: foreversky.

~TLL~