The Glitter Jungle:
Fiction:
Price Tag
Was it all worth it? Well reference, K/M
Growl.
Growl, scratch.
Growl, growl. Scream high and piercing. Scratch.
Stop, look around. Pant. Nothing moves. Nothing changes.
Growl.
Curl in on yourself and whimper, low and pathetic, hopeless, needy. Scratch.
Curse, yell obscenities at the sky. Terrify anyone who nears.
How can something like this ever be forgiven? Forgotten?
He wakes up with a gasp. At first everything is black and his breath catches, the only thing keeping him from panic is centuries of impeccable self-control. Then the wave subsides and the hints of light in the east tell him the morning is near. It's cold and in his nightmare he pushed the blankets down; he's pulling them back up to cover his naked torso. He also covers the bare shoulder of the man lying peacefully next to him, automatic reaction of care, of attention. By now used to the darkness, he's searching the face on the pillow, slack in sleep but still guarded, readable only to a certain degree.
Was it all worth it?
A thousand years of torture, beyond insanity to a free, proud spirit; a thousand years of betrayal and hurt. Then a thousand more of unspeakable emptiness inside him. Then more betrayal and more hurt. Was this man worth forgiving, time and again?
Methos rolls to face him, murmurs in sleep. Sharp lines of his face
softer, hair mussed and sticking in all directions. This man once ruled
the world by his side. And now he's giving up the world, for this man.
A high price for a quiet unassuming scholar, for a man who won't raise
his sword unless it is the last possible resort. A price almost as high
as forgiveness.