Enslaved Heart (A "No one lives" fan-fiction)

Stockholm Syndrome

Donna' whole world seemed to swim and blur within her vision but he was clear as day, slumped over on one side and being held up by his forearm they were forced together once more, eyes meeting across the few feet of distance. Driver was similarly disoriented but with each second began to gather more awareness of his surroundings crouching up on one knee and patting dirt off the front of his over coat eventually standing completely back arched to release any soreness and then a solid wall before her. Those beautiful cerulean eyes flickering from the top of the cliffside back to her searching for an answer and instead hearing someone on top, Simon. From his waistband came the Colt raised up to aim at the boy but she wouldn't allow it.

Standing up on shaking battered legs she pushed herself forward leaning onto her shoulder and ramming into his torso using the momentum of the hit to twist and grab at the gun closing her fingers around the handle and yanking free from his slackened hand. Shock seemed to ripple through her opponent but only for a moment and then he answered in kind, arms wrapping around her body in a firm hold reaching to take his weapon back.

"I need to do this Donna. You lost, give in. You were always so stubborn in defeat." Driver's baritone voice rumbled in his throat a coaxing comfort like a hug on a cold day or hot chocolate after playing in the snow. It took every inch of self control that was built up within her not to heed his words instead drawing back her elbow and slamming it down into his gut.

He keeled over wheezing in pain, arms loosened from their grip giving her the strength to break free from their hold and take a few steps away putting some distance between them and then raising the gun up level with his head. Just one shot was all it took to end all of this, he would die and they would be free. Donna knew it was the rationalization of a mad woman but truly didn't care, her arms shaking violently, closing one finger around the trigger and squeezing it until the hard plastic pressed to the back of her skin. Once he's dead everything will go back to normal. Pressure and tension mounting within her gut and he stood there with an imploring stare as if to dare her to pull it. PULL THE TRIGGER.

Time seemed to come to a halt and that voice buried in the depths of her mind spoke up once a hush whisper now roaring with power. Do you really want him to die? Her arms shook then lowered the gun cursing inwardly at her own weakness, the answer was no. She truly didn't want him to die.

"Come to me Donna.. We both know you can't kill me."

"Even if I can't.. That doesn't mean I'll allow you to recapture me and Simon." Her hoarse throat cracked in several places pain beginning to ripple through her nerves and senses. Everything began to hit her at once and her vision swam beginning to darken pleading for sleep, to finally escape this eternal pain.

Still she took a step back over a line of hay and pine needles taking out the blue lighter from her front pocket and clicking back the plastic cover. He barely had time to react or plead before it was dropped on the line of dry materials instantly catching flame and spreading from one side to the other creating a barrier between the two of them. The heat brushing her cheek harsh as a blade forcing her backwards further. The stolen gun pressing against her thigh cold, heavy metal. Freedom at last though his forlorn devastated expression hurt her worse than the pain, his agony brought her agony, and she still couldn't remember why. Tears beaded at the edge of her eyes trekking down her dirt caked cheeks and curving at the edge of her chin leaving a taste of salt against her cracked bleeding lips.

"I'm sorry." Donna whispered.

"Do you remember? All of it..?" He stepped closer to the wall of flames flinching with each step his leg bleeding from a sharp rock slicing into the thigh on the way down but determined as it was. Desperation clear as day in those cold eyes searching her face for a hint of recognition but sinking into disappointment when he found none. They were like strangers but at the same time so much more.