Broken Beauty

Exchange

This is where I start to ver away from the actual storyline. Hope you like my changes.

John lay curled on his side against the wall. The sound of metal on metal jolting him awake. His body felt stiff and his stomach felt hollow. He finally meet the eyes of the man standing on the other side of his prison bars.

"Well, well, well. Seems like someone had a rough night" the man teased while he sat the metal bar he had been holding down.

John looked down at his feet. His head hanging between his knees.

"Don't wanna talk? Alrighty then. I guess you don't want your freedom." the man stood up and started walking away.

"Wait" John croked "Please don't leave me here" he whimpered softly.

The other man grinned. A chill ran down Johns back.

"Well I obviously can't just let you go so-"

John cut him off "I'll do anything!" he pleaded.

The man raised an eyebrow "Anything?"

"Y-yes, anything. Whatever you want I'll get it. Or what ever you need I'll do it. Just please let me go. I-I have a son I have to go home to" Johns heart felt like it was being crushed "Please"

The man chuckled and stuck out his hand "Peter by the way"

"John" he shook Peter's hand "Now tell me what it is I need to do to get out of here. Please I have to get back to my boy."

Peter sniggered then became serious at Johns last words "wait you have a son?"

John visibly swallowed "I-I uh yes"

"How old is he?" Peter pulled up a riquety wooden stool and sat down.

"Eighteen" John only hesitated for a moment.

Peter grinned wickedly "I'll make you a deal John." he said with his teeth showing in a crooked smile.

John leaned forward "Go on"

"In exchange for your freedom-" he removed his gaze from the floor and looked John in the eyes "You give me the boy"

John felt water rushing into his eyes again as he stared at the man before him in disbelief "I-I don't understand"

"I need the boy John, not for me but for someone else." Peter smiled softly.

Johns face became hard "Never. My boy is not something I would just give away for something as petty as freedom." John spit.

Peter sighed and stood up "Then I suppose this is where you will be staying then" He motioned to the rotting cells.

John glared at the man as he walked out. To get rid of Stiles would be like taking the Sun away. Life would be meaningless and nothing would be the same. Ever.

John sat in the corner with his head in his knees. Stiles was his everything now. Stiles was all he had.

------(Stiles)------

Stiles climbed from bed with a frown on his face. He hated that damn roster. It was his fathers idea to get one and Stiles absolutely hated it.

He made his way to the bathroom and cleansed his face and body quickly. After he did so he returned to,his room and picked out a pair of loose fitting kneepants and a white shirt.

Once satisfied he slipped on his boots and headed outside.

He feed the animals and tends to the garden. Stile swiped the sweat from his forehead and got back onto his feet. After cleaning his hands he grabbed his book and a small basket of fruit he set out to his reading spot under the weeping willow.