Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of the witcher. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I using Netflix series canon mixed with the books.

Warning : Description of burns, blood and body marks. Some violence (nothing too graphic). Mostly anxiety and depressive state. Swearing. Humiliation.

Chapter 7 - One second was all it took

Jaskier didn't sleep but he was more than alert. The anxiety helped on that subject. The guard outside his cell woke up in a bad mood when he began to sing. He had just one card to play. He guessed that the judge didn't want anything bad happening to him till he would need him, so he played all in. He sang just enough to test the limits and then waited for his first meal of the day to be served.

His little friends joined him early that day. Milly and Roger jumped on the bucket, while Gordon was a little more playful on the ground next to him. Jaskier was nervous as hell. Surely the little mouse felt that and came to comfort him, or maybe he was having some anthropomorphic thoughts about a rodent. Anyway observing the little animal was almost hypnotic and helped him to go through the first phase.

What he didn't anticipated though was the inspiration. He was a man of passion and love. Muses spoke to him usually from this. But since Geralt abandoned him there had been a shift in him. His heart was far too broken. For a long period of time he really thought he wouldn't be able to write and sing again but then this pain and dark thoughts fuelled his muses. Burn Butcher Burn came from that. It was different and hard, because everything that came from this kind of inspiration just ripped him apart. But it helped him to survive in a way others could have difficulties to understand. So when the guard came with his plate of carceral delicacies and that the man just poked at his feelings, mocking him bluntly, he was half surprised that a song just found its way to his mind. He didn't have guessed that he would have a rush of inspiration in his condition but it was also almost normal and salutary.

Jaskier drank his dirt tasted water absently and took a few bites of the infamous carrot puree he'd been given since he arrived. He took the second spoon he needed to escape. And everything he'd been through since just played with the darkest part of his mind. He had a very good chance to die in his attempt to escape, but he realised that he didn't care any more. And that was that that lightened his dark muses.

Gordon squeaked near him. He put his hand on the ground and the mouse jumped in. He lifted it up to his face, cuddling its back with his thumb. It was the last push. The last burning light in him. In a few minutes, either way he would be running as much as he could to his freedom, or condemned to die slowly under the torture of the judge. He put his little friend back on the ground and took his spoons. He began to sing. Soft but steady.

It's been a long time travellin'
On roads that lead to nowhere
With hopes and dreams that always rot
Sometimes it takes a prison cell

The tricks and tales, the traitors' tell
To help you see that freedom is all you've got

And then using his future tools to escape like a percussive instrument he let go of what he had on his heart all along, in the noisiest and the most irritating way.

So…lock me up and sock me up
And throw away the key
Go fuck yourself, you whoreson
'Cause you're through fuckin' with me !

The guard reacted the exact way he wished he would. Slamming his iron mug on the bars of his cage, he screamed him to shut up and menaced him to cut his tongue. The menace was not really effective as Jaskier knew the judge wanted him to talk. Heart beating fast and strong, he gathered all the perkiness he could have, spoke to his lovely mice and resumed singing the chorus.

Exceeded, the guard was leaving and Jaskier was appreciating that simple victory. So he continued until he was sure that the man was out of the prison. He stopped briefly when he heard a strange noise but finished his chorus as loud as he could. He heard the guard stubble back to his first position and annoyed by the fact it delayed his initial plan, he gather all the sassiness he could to be as annoying as possible. So loud and clear, and getting on his feet, he exclaimed :

- "Good sir, you wouldn't know talent if I shoved it up to…" as he turned toward the door, he just froze. "Geralt…" He said, his throat suddenly constricted.

For a brief moment he hesitated to believe his own eyes. His White Wolf was standing there, nervously waiting. Well nervous was a big word to describe his stillness. But Jaskier knew him perfectly. The witcher just didn't know how to proceed. He either... He never thought, in the slightest, that his muse would reappear in his life in such a moment. Freeing his from his cage. Giving him back what he needed the most.

His heart was already beating fast and strong in his chest because of the rush of adrenaline due to his attempt to escape but for the first time in two years this beating meant he was alive. His heart was suddenly beating of love and not of fear. He could feel every fibre of his being resurrecting just by looking back at those concerned yellow eyes. But Jaskier hated himself for that. He felt so weak to feel that way. The time seemed to stretch as he was fighting internally all his battles at once... He looked away.

A part of him wanted to hate Geralt for every bad word, every rejection he suffered for more than twenty years. It was fuelling his anger. But he just desperately loved him to his core. The White Wolf in front of him was the air his lungs missed for so long, the light of the sun finally rising on the dead land of his psyche. He couldn't fight against that. The next blink, he lost all his battles. Love was stronger than all his griefs, and the witcher was like a gift from destiny to step back in his life when he needed him the most.

- "Fuck it" He said, giving Geralt the clear information he needed as he lunched forward for a hug. The witcher did the same and they connected in a strong embrace. Jaskier fought back the tears, all of them. Joy and anger. The contact anchored definitively Geralt in his reality. He was there. He was real.

- "I missed you too." Geralt said. The deep baritone voice resonated in his chest, almost sending shivers down his spine.

Of course we would say that. The witcher has enhanced senses so he surely got the entirety of his body response as a silent message. On the other hand, the bard was ashamed because he was smelling piss, sweat, blood and surely a vague old odour of alcohol hidden under that. He was a total mess.
He separated from his mate and tried to keep his composure. He tried to act like he was strong, like he never was so depressed he could have killed himself, like he was still the old Jaskier Geralt always knew.

- "What are you doing here ?" He asked as detached as he could. He was putting all his talent to play this role.

- "We don't have time. We have to go." Replied the witcher, almost at the door, ready to go.

The answer sent a dagger straight to his heart. Geralt surely thought that this was enough to win him back. That he could do as if the mountain never happened. As much as he wanted to get out, Jaskier couldn't let that pass. He needed to address the elephant in the room. So he didn't move.

- "Are you sure?"

- "Yes"

The bard would have laughed at the confused look Geralt gave him, if it didn't have pierced his heart again. Of course he wouldn't understand. Of course he would think that time had just cleared the board for him and everything was as simple as before. Could he not see how much he had changed ? Could he not feel the stench he was so ashamed of and conclude that something bad happened to him ? Could he not just asked for once in his life : are you ok ?

He may think he was that loyal dog that would always come back to his master even if he beat it. But no. Not this time. Geralt had to earn his trust. He had to face what he'd done to him.

- "The last time we saw you basically told my to fuck off and you left me on a mountain…" He exclaimed. The shame on the witcher face was a delight. "I mean have you seen these boots? I pretty much slid all my way down to Cairngorm."

He couldn't help to make it sound like a joke but he meant it. It had been hell for him. He was sure the witcher didn't hear the hurt behind the funny metaphor he landed but everything was there. From the abandon to the struggle he experienced going down the mountain alone and desperate. The memories rushed back in his mind as the anger grew.

But then again, Geralt did what he shouldn't. He was clearly annoyed by his rantings. He was in a hurry and didn't want to hear what he had to say about the past.

- "Jaskier…" the witcher tried. The bard exploded to his surprise.

- "Don't fucking Jaskier me! I'm talking. This is how it works !"

He was proud of himself. He bravely faced the man and was surely near to obtain the apology he deserved at least. Geralt approached with a concerned look and all it took to destroy his last bastion was a hand on his shoulder.

The contact sent shivers through his body. His lips trembled as he suppressed his urgent need to cry and he plunged in the golden eyes. Despite the knife twisting painfully in his heart he saw the desperation in his friend. Something bad happened to him. And nothing else mattered anymore. He never could bare seeing his friend like that.

- "I need your help." Said the witcher, confirming what he hinted.

Those words weren't welcome at all because it meant that Geralt hadn't any intention of apologize and worse it could be that he didn't come back for him. He just needed a hand. A trusted one, maybe. But yet. He was still a tool that could be tossed away when not needed any more. He was already picturing the moment, Geralt would abandon him again. He would. It was certain. But… he was too weak and too emotionally battered to refuse what was miraculously given to him. The freedom and his muse finally restored.

He fought with himself again. Too proud to say yes. Loving his White Wolf way too much to say no. His heart had already given up the moment he saw him and he already had forgiven him everything. He wouldn't forget but there was no way he couldn't forgive.

One second was all it took to loose against his heart.

- "Fine…"

He had to hide the pain and move on. He would find a way to talk to him later and eventually share his experience with him.

Geralt seemed satisfied with his positive answer and was about to leave. But Jaskier still he had to make one last thing. He would miss the mice that were his last link to sanity during his imprisonment. He had to say goodbye. So he did. The old fashion Jaskier's way.

- "Gentlemen. It's been an honour." Geralt looked at him like he had lose his mind. Well, I almost did, my wolf... I almost did. But he wouldn't let him see how damaged he was. Not yet. "What ? I made new friends. Get over it." He joked. And he get out, ignoring the half concerned look of his friend.

###

Jaskier was like a flower, rejuvenated by the sun and love. He followed Geralt almost candidly through the streets of Oxenfurt, forgetting step after another the prison and the judge. If he was with Geralt he didn't need to be afraid anymore.

When they stepped out of the city walls, he felt like his cage had finally opened and he was flying away with the person he loved the most. He ignored the distant chains that were ramping in the back of his mind because nothing was more precious that what he was feeling now. No cage, no restraints, nothing except freedom.

I hope you enjoyed it. See you soon.