Therapy Session (Mac Prison)

Eighteen: Remembrance

Mac settled down on his bed. His nice, soft bed. Damn, you never really appreciate a shitty bed until you've slept on the cold hard ground when you're drunk as fuck. He sighed as the bed fitted his shape, and he smiled softly. He closed his eyes, ready for a nap. Well, technically sleep, but oh well.

It didn't take long for him to fall into the abyss that is sleep. He couldn't recall anything from the dream, until the end.

It was... dark. There weren't any lights, and yet Mac could head the sound of laughter. His legs started moving forward against his will, and he felt something in his hand. He glanced down and saw his old skinning knife, the metal blade shiny and clean, yet it wouldn't be that way for long. He knew that. He'd had this nightmare before.

Finally he made out the flickering of fire, and the red glow from it reflecting against the red canyon walls. His pace quickened, and he heard hooting and hollering. Mac realized that he was behind a large boulder, the only thing separating him from the partying teens. He made his way around the boulder, and froze.

He saw the dancing shape of women against the canyon walls. And their laughter... it made the knife twitch in his hand. Then he heard a distinct voice, one that had been haunting him for years.

"Come on, Devon!" Regina laughed, and Mac could see the shape of a man standing up, joining the girl beside the fire.

"C'mon Mac, you know what to do."

Mac started forward again, though now his heart was hammering in his chest. No, no, don't make me do this... He wanted to open his mouth and to yell at Regina to get away from there, to run as fast as she could away from Devon, but his mouth was glued shut. He urged his feet to stop walking, but he was already rounding the corner of the boulder.

Regina, Devon, and all of their friends were laughing as the siblings danced to some pop song, none of them aware of the man who was about to murder them all. His hand started trembling, and he opened his mouth again. "Run! Fucking run!"

Yet no one heard him. No one would hear him. His legs started walking forward again, and he started screaming at them to run. But... nothing would work.

Then he head a familiar, yet foreign voice from behind him. Someone new.

"Mac, stop."

Mac froze, yet terror gripped his heart. The teens were still laughing in front of him, and now Devon was leaning into Regina, a disgusting look in his eyes. "Mac, over here,"

Mac turned around, glad to tear his eyes away from the horrific scene behind him. He turned and saw... Jesus. Not the actual Jesus Christ, but Paul. What the hell was he doing here?

Jesus walked forward, and the sounds of the teenagers partying behind him slowly faded, but not completely. When Jesus was in front of Mac, he paused, and then reached forward, taking Mac's right hand and removing the knife from it. He let the knife drop onto the ground, the blade slightly embedded in the red dirt. Jesus rested a hand on Mac's trembling shoulder, and one hand pulled Mac's head down. Before he knew it, Jesus's lips were pressed firmly to his own. Mac hesitated, not hating the feeling. Hell if anything, it was nice. Nice and comforting. Mac allowed his eyes to shut, his hands moving to Jesus's hips.

Then Jesus pulled away, staring up at Mac with his clear grey eyes. Then he pulled Mac down again, and Mac was hoping for another kiss. Unfortunately, Jesus just pulled his head so that it was resting on his shoulder while Jesus's mouth was right next to his ear. "This isn't you, Mac. You're not a monster."

Mac felt something sharp stinging his eyes, and warmth coming down his face. Jesus smiled softly and wiped Mac's tears away with his thumb. "Come on, let's go." He murmured, wrapping an arm around Mac's shoulders and guiding him away from Regina and her... her dead friends.

Mac's eyes shot open, strange feelings flooding through him. The cell block was dark, and he could hear Rick snoring above him. He sat up quietly, feeling water drop down onto his lap. He wiped his eyes quickly, trying to recount his dream before it ran away from him. Luckily - or, rather unluckily - he'd had the nightmare so many times before. But usually it ended with everyone's murder, and Mac falling to his death off the canyon again, only to have him wake up before he could die. But now Jesus was in it, and they had... they had kissed.

Mac's hand unconsciously moved to his lips, where they were still warm, almost as if he and Jesus had actually kissed before...

Oh, hell no.