Short self-contained series of drabbles based on prompts from the alexrider100 community on livejournal. (Check it out if you have the chance!) Cross-posted to my journal. The prompts where: Stains, Keys, Razor, Sometimes and Watch.

There is a stain above Alex's bed. It's getting bigger by the day, Alex reflects. They should really get someone in, check it out. Damp is a killer. (A figurative killer, not the kind Alex normally deals with.) He shifts over on the bed, wincing as a spring digs into his back – a new mattress wouldn't exactly go amiss either – and considers the stain on the ceiling. It's better than the stains on his mattress, he does his best not to think about those. He doesn't like thinking about the people who've been here before. There's only him left now.

I

Alex had a tense mental relationship with keys. Time was he would literally have killed to get his hands on the ones to this room – but he doesn't care so much now. He can't even say he hates the sound of a key screeching in the lock of the door. He dreads what they'll do and ask, but it gets him out of here, gives him something to do other than stare at the stains. He can feel himself mentally locking down as securely as he's locked in this room. It's a survival technique. And he is going to survive.

I

He hasn't shaved in a fair while. It's OK, he's sixteen, it's not like he's grown a full beard or anything. The stubble itches something terrible, but it's just a counterpoint to the other drawbacks: the lack of showers, filthy clothes, lumpy mattress, stained room – lack of freedom, torture, endless questions. His captors aren't stupid enough to give him a razor and let him shave, they know he'd use it for other purposes entirely. It's self-preservation on their part, and out of self-preservation on Alex's, he doesn't think of how he must smell and look. Survival is the important thing.

I

Alex doesn't think about might-have-beens and could-haves or should-haves. He's always been an in-the-moment kind of guy, it's what makes him so good at what he does. He can map out situations in his head, but when it's over and some risk successfully avoided, he doesn't waste time thinking about how it could have gone wrong or better. But here, he allows himself (sometimes) to daydream about getting out soon, about how freedom's going to taste again. Mostly, though, he focuses on the here and now. No point getting his hopes up, even through imagination, just to have them dashed.

I

Alex watches as the SAS (not a team he knows) deals with his captors, watches as they take some captive for questioning and knows that these prisoners are going to get a far better deal than he ever did. The injustice of it burns a little: he ignores it. He's free, thank god, and he's not going to waste time worrying about those bastards. The soldier who comes over to him looks a little horrified – Alex can imagine how awful he looks. For the first time in months, he speaks, his voice rasping in his throat, surprising even him. "Thanks."

So, there it is. What did you think? Do tell.

-amitai xxx