kapuahi | FIC: Only Thing That's Right (1/1)

Title: Only Thing That's Right
Prompt: H/C prompt - Captivity
Rating: G
Beta: the Amazing

shewritesfreely
Warning: Spoilers for Season 1
Summary: Steve settles into his time in captivity.
Authors Notes: Written for

hc_bingo

Captivity wasn’t hard. He’d done it before. He could do it again. He’d been a Prisoner of War. He’d endured torture. He could survive being locked in a prison cell for twenty three hours of every twenty four. But, nothing short of his parent’s deaths had hurt as much as the great big empty hole at his side and in his heart.

Nothing would ever fill that hole again. He’d seen how much he had hurt Danny when he’d told him not to come back. That Chin would be his only approved visitor and Danny could go to hell. He’d seen the way Danny’s bottom lip had almost trembled as he’d struggled to bite out a stinging retort. He’d watched as trembling fingers were splayed against the thick glass separating them, begging for a reciprocal touch to make everything right again.

Nobody else would see that weakness, but he knew Danny almost as well as he knew himself. He’d seen how much he had hurt him in the long minutes that hard, blue eyes had searched his face, before he had pushed back his chair and stormed out of the visiting area. The plastic, molded chair toppled and crashed to the floor. But Steve never noticed, his eyes riveted to Danny’s retreating back, bending forward until he couldn’t see him any longer. He may as well have torn his own heart out and thrown it against the wall, but he wouldn’t sacrifice Danny for him. He had a daughter and a pregnant wife to reconcile with. Chin had told him of Danny’s confession and Steve wasn’t going to take that from him, not when he knew how much family meant to Danny. So he had hurt him and pushed him away, then watched him walk out. Steve’s large hand had lifted to touch the glass where Danny’s hand had been, trying to absorb the strength and determination he no longer had a right to share.

Daytimes were the worst. Being in a cage wasn’t the problem; that was the easiest part. Crunches and push-ups burned physical energy. The nervous tension that filled his body flowed from his body in rivulets of perspiration, as his muscles burned with the strain of thousands of crunches each day.

In the one hour they let him out of his box-like room every day, they released him into a cage. There he jogged, round and round the small enclosure until he was dizzy, yet he still kept going.

Physical exhaustion was one thing. At lights out he would collapse onto his bunk, barely able to move; only to lay there for the hours of darkness, until faint sunlight started to filter through the small barred-square, high in the wall of his cell.

He wasn’t allowed possessions in his tiny cell. In fact, a bunk, a toilet and a sink were the only adornments to the tiny aluminum-plated box he now called home. He didn’t need anything else. Every time he closed his eyes, he had all he needed and everything he didn’t want. To sleep would only have been a blessing. Instead, his Danny lived behind his closed eyes. Every short, muscular, vociferous Jersey inch of his beloved partner there in joyous living color. He couldn’t and wouldn’t acknowledge the tears that flowed from the corners of tightly clenched eyes until he sleep claimed him.

The darkness hid a lot of things, but exhaustion saved his sanity.