Chapter Text
*
He rocks back and forth in the dark. It's okay. It was going to be okay. It's fine. Just one more minute and his friends will bust down the door. Letting in the light that he hasn't seen in ages.
Just one more hour.
Just one more day.
Just one more week.
Where are you?
*
It's so cold. He was stripped of clothing as soon as Klarion forced him through the portal. He couldn't fight back- was to weak. He tried. God did he try. But Klarion was stronger and easily shoved him into a cage, one that he could hardly move in. He was hugging his knees to his chest and bent as low as he could go but the bars were still digging into his skin. He took a shuddering breath as the claustrophobia set in, making him shake in more than just the biting cold.
His stomach gave a painful lurch, reminding him that he hadn't had food in what felt like forever. He took another shuddering breath, trying to move closer in on himself, hoping to get something similar to warmth. He's so cold he's numb. He can't feel anything except the colder bars, reminding him that's he's trapped. Can't move. Can't run.
Can't move.
He thinks he closes his eyes. But he honestly can't tell the difference. It's so dark it all looks the same.
It's so dark and he's so cold and he's so hungry.
He has no energy.
Can't move.
*
There's a hand petting his hair and he feels warm for the first time in forever. There's tears escaping his eyes and he leans closer to the warmth. Something warm is put against his lips, his mouth opens and a warm broth his tipped down his throat. Making a warm fuzzy feeling spread throughout his body, and his stomach unclench from hunger for the first time in forever.
He's shaking because he was so cold for so long and this feels like heaven; someone hushes him and holds him closer.
He opens his eyes, seeing light for the first time in forever.
And Klarion. Klarion was the one holding him and making warm and giving him food and petting his hair- giving him comfort. A lump catches in his throat in he pushes the witch away, hating himself. He doesn't know why he hates himself more. For pushing him away or not doing it sooner. He tries to blink away the tears. He's crying because he's scared. He doesn't want to be cold and alone again. He doesn't want to give into Klarion. A sob escapes him when Klarion stands, face blank.
The witchboy grips his arm and he's put back into the wretched cage. He sobs an bites down of the urge to beg him to stay. To say he's sorry.
The food disappears and the lights go out.
He listens to the foot steps leaving him to his cage all over again and sobs again.
He hugs himself closer, trying to hold onto the warmth he had with Klarion. He sobs to himself as the room gets colder and colder and he's trapped again in this hell.
He thinks of his friends and tries to keep his hopes up with the thoughts of all the food and hugs he can get with them.
It just makes him lonelier and his sobs increase.
For the first time in forever he doesn't think about this friends.
*
The nightmares come and he doesn't know if they're worse or better than his reality.
They're of his friends. But they leave him, they laugh, they call him weak.
And they feel so real that every time he wakes up he has to breath deep and remind himself over and over that it wasn't real. That they're looking.
Uncle Barry tells him that he's frail and weak for craving Klarions attention. That *good* sidekicks can remain strong and wait for rescue. That *good* sidekicks wouldn't even get captured in the first time.
He wakes up sobbing apologizing over and over into the dark and cold air.
He feels hollow.
*
They're all dead. They're all dead and its all his fault. He wasn't fast enough- strong enough- smart enough- he wasn't enough.
He shakes over and over and wills the cold away. Even if its only for a moment. He needs to know that it was a nightmare. It doesn't feel like one and he's terrified.
He's terrified.
Maybe Klarion will come back.
He sobs. Hero's don't wish for the villain to come back. Hero's don't crave warmth so much that they'll kill their own pride. Hero's don't need people this much.
Maybe he's not a hero. He's not fast enough. He's not strong enough. He's not smart enough.
He's not enough.
*
The warmth is back and he cries so much. He wants this so much. The hand gently pets his hair and he wants it to stay there so much. He looks up and wants to hate that face. He left him here. He did this to him. He's hungry and hurt and cold and trapped because of him.
He wants to push him away so much.
There's more food in front of him. Not broth this time but some roasted meat.
He hasn't moved in so long that he can't lift things to his lips anymore so Klarion does it for him. He lifts the delicious meat to his mouth and lets him eat until his body stops eating itself. He curls into the warm body tighter, wanting to be held so much.
He hand never stops stroking him and he finds himself pushing into it. It's so loving and it makes him *feel* something other than alone. His head fits so perfectly under the witches chin and he can hear his even heartbeat thumping in his ear making him sleepy, and he wonders if the nightmares will go away if he's with Klarion.
"What are you?" Klarion says into his ear.
And its the first thing he's heard besides his own sobs, nightmares, and the sound of Klarion walking away and he missed hearing a voice so much.
He can't say it. He can't. He's a person not an object to be owned. He can't. He can't give up.
Why? Why can't he give up?
His friends! Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry!
But they're dead? No. A nightmare.
But they left him? No. A nightmare.
But they're not here?
Yes.
They're not here. Only Klarion.
He whispers. "I...I can't." And he hates himself. He's disgusted with himself.
He loathes himself so much.
The Witches face falls flat and Wallys lips tremble when he realized what he just did. His hands twist themselves in Klarions shirt praying that he'll give mercy and stay with him. He sobs when the man sighs like he's upset with him and begins to stand up.
He wants to take it back so much.
He doesn't know why he doesn't. Maybe it's stubbornness. He doesn't want to be a pet. He doesn't. He doesn't. He doesn't.
He wants Klarion to come back so much.
*
He wants the light. He wants to be warm. He wants to be full.
He thinks this is the longest he's been in here. He's half dead. The magic threads that run through the cage is the only thing keeping him alive. He needed food so long ago. The magic just gives a little nutrients to keep him from dying. But he's still so hungry. He's still so cold.
When Klarion comes back, he doesn't take him out of the cage this time.
And he thinks he's hallucinating. That he's having some wonderful dream where Klarion gives him another chance.
But he sticks his hand through the bars and strokes his cheek. Wally gasps and finds the energy to hold the hand there, afraid that he'll leave as quickly as he came. He cries as he holds the hand there. He's still stroking his tear stained cheek and Wally wants him to touch him forever, because he's so warm. And he just wants to be warm.
His eyes close because it almost feels like to much.
Klarion hums and Wally leans forward wanting to be as close to the sound as possible. "I don't have time for a prisoner. Only my pets." He says and Wally wills his heart to stop so he doesn't have to choose anymore.
He's still touching his face so gently and Wally just wants him to never stop.
Klarion starts to pull away and Wally sobs and holds onto his hand in a vice like grip. "Please. Please stay."
Klarion sighs like Wally is a child and he pets him so gently before slipping his hand through the bar.
Wally feels like the darkness and loneliness is pressing down on him and he wails in despair.
But the witchboy doesn't leave just yet. He's there. Just out of reach of the cage.
"Whose are you."
This time resisting is a passing thought, "Yours!"
Klarions eyebrow raises and he hums. "What was that?"
Wally tries to gets his emotions under control enough to speak clearer. "Yours. I'm yours."
Klarion comes closer and bends down to his eye level and Wally can feel his intoxicating body heat, he moves closer trying to get even a little warm.
"You're my pet?"
He nods fervently. "Yes. Yes. Your pet."
He swallows, feeling a flutter of nervousness and somewhere- in the dark parts of his mind that he's tried to forget- he's shouting at himself.
He repeats, sealing his fate. "I'm your pet."
He wants the light. He wants to be warm. He wants to be full.
He wants to be Klarions.