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Glenn knows he has been here for too long. He stopped counting after the second year, but he knows it has been double that by now. It's more important to work on getting out than figuring out how long he has been stuck in the damp cell. It's more important to focus on fighting off the illusionary voices of friends he knows have left him.
The chain on his left wrist feels just a bit looser, at least as far as he can tell. Just a bit longer. He just has to deal with the horrid taste of that smoothie a few more times and then he can get out of the dark, and out of the cold, and away from the voice of a boy who is gone. Soon, he and Nick Jr. will get to see how much the forgotten realms have changed over the years.
The door opens. That's not right? They tormented him yesterday. Didn't they? There are two sets of footsteps, one is the all too familiar sound of armor but the other sounds like…well it isn't iron on stone.
It doesn't matter, it's probably another hallucination, but even if it isn't, he knows what to do by now. Keep his head down, don't move, and no matter what, don't dare to speak.
The footsteps stop in front of the cell door, the guard's key moves in the lock. The click echoes through the silence.
Too loud
.
Those weird footsteps walk into the cell and something hits his nose. The smell of some really good weed. He hasn't tried to move the blindfold since the first infraction, so he can't discern anything about who the illusion is supposed to be, based on looks, but damn he swears that smell should be familiar.
“Hey, Rockstar.”
No. Of all the people to be thinking about, why him?
“Damn this place really took it out on you, huh?” He can just hear the quiet chuckle that follows.
Don't act like this isn't your fault! Why are you here? Why are you just now tormenting me!
“Sir if you don't mind, we have another prisoner who needs this cell.”
Since when do the guard's talk, especially without any anger? Are they part of the hallucination?
“Hm? Oh right. Ok, Glenny, time to go.”
Stop listening, it's obviously not real. He's not here, he, of all people, would forget you. Definitely before your friends.
Glenn can hear the metal boots approaching. He can feel someone grabbing the chains on his wrist. Can feel a hand at the back of his head, then…light. It's too bright . Even in the dim light of the torches he can make out lining the walls, everything burns. After so long with nothing but absolute darkness, his eye feels assaulted.
“Yikes! The boy is already on a life sentence. Is torture really necessary?” Why does he have to be so loud!
“He broke the rules.”
He barely hears the mumbled response of, “Did he even know the rules?” before he feels the chains around his wrists fall off and the mask around his mouth falls to the stone floor.
Wait, what!? He moves to look at where he can see the set of gleaming armor standing, his vision swimming with the movement, only to find the being behind the helmet glaring at him.
“There you go! Must feel good to get that horrible leather off, huh Rockstar?”
He moves his head again, trying to see where the voice is coming from, only to find its owner kneeling down in front of him, wearing his iconic ‘everything is chill’ smile. And he hasn't aged a day. Bill Close, the man who put him on trial, the reason he is in here, the reason he lost his son, is just kneeling before him like nothing is wrong. He doesn't know how long he just stares at Bill, unmoving and silent.
“What's wrong, Glenny? Don't think you've ever been this quiet. Not excited to see your old man?”
What's wrong? What's wrong!? You took my life away and you ask ‘what's wrong’!
Something grabs him around the bicep. Shit! Did he speak?
“Come on, I need you both out of here before they bring the next prisoner.” The guard hauls him to his feet.
“Right, right. Sorry man. Come on Rockstar, let's get out of this shithole.” Bill grabs his hand and starts dragging his fear paralyzed body out of the cell. Glenn swears he can feel the warmth of his hand.
This isn't right, this has to be a strong hallucination, like that time Nick came to visit. The guards wouldn't just let him go. Bill wouldn't come for him. But, they are going up the stairs. Bill still smells of weed and Nick Jr. is moving against the neck of his shirt to try and stay hidden. The world is becoming migraine inducingly bright and loud as they approach a door he has never seen, but he has heard open and slam too many times.
“Seriously Glenny, I know I took a long time to get you pardoned by the court, fuck Willy and his damn good planning, but I swear I came as quickly as I could. So don't give me the silent treatment for too long. Alright, Rockstar?”
Bill…pardoned him? He cared enough to do that? Why did the other dads not try to break him out during all the time it took for Bill to get him? Did they really abandon him before the man who left him to live on his own since he was 13?
So many questions rolled around in Glenn's head that he failed to pay attention to the bright and loud surroundings until he felt something get placed over his eyes. He jumped back, not ready to be plunged back into the darkness of another blindfold.
“Whoa! Sorry man, just trying to give you your glasses back. Glad to see you favor the red tint like your old man.”
Glenn touched the object around his eye, which he now realizes isn't stopping his ability to see, just dimming the lights. Sure enough, he feels cold glass and metal wiring under his calloused fingers. He looks at Bill who is taking things out of a small chest.
“Looks like they kept your clothes and jacket in here, but I can't find your guitar, damn it. Well, you can at least change before we leave.”
Glenn came to look over Bill's shoulder at the contents of the box. His t-shirt, his favorite black jeans, his Harley Davidson jacket, and his wedding ring (still on its silver chain). He grabbed at it before he could think of the consequences of moving.
“Damn! Didn't ever hear you move across the room, Rockstar. Can't blame you for wanting your shit back though. I was always happy to get my lighter and joints back after a night in jail,” Glenn watches Bill walk towards the door, “Get changed then we can start the journey back to Ravenloft. Don't want Willy getting on my ass about taking too long.”
Like hell I'm going to that hellhole with you! I've got my life back, I can go find the guys and Nick. Or wait, can I? Are they still in the Realms after all this time? It doesn't matter I can stay with…with…who can I stay with?
Glenn tried to figure it out while he changed. It felt good to be back in his old clothes, though the left sleeve of his jacket was a little tight. He made sure that his wedding ring was tucked away where no one would think to find and take it and he helped Jr. get comfortably hidden under the collar of his jacket and his hair. By the time he was done, he still failed to think of someone he could find and stay with.
He walked out of the room only to be hit with the smell of freshly lit weed. Bill was leaning against the wall, a half smoked joint in his hand. How long had it taken to get changed?
“Ready to go, Rockstar?” Glenn could do nothing but nod, “Great! I know you hate the other guys with the same fury I hate states that don't allow the good old Mary Jane, but trust me, Barry can get both of us hooked up with the best drug flowers in the realms. Can't say I have anything to say about Willy that will benefit you, but you probably won't be seeing much of him, not while he is still trying to get his son and all the grandkids.”
Ron is still in the realms! The kids are still here! Is Nick!? Is he ok?
Glenn reaches out and grabs Bill's wrist as the man walks ahead of him. Bill turns around, his joint halfway to his lips, “What's up, Rockstar?”
“N-Nick?” The name was a raspy, broken sound coming from the vocal cords he had failed to use for years.
“Hm? Oh, your boy? Or, I guess, the kid who used to be your boy. Yeah he’s around somewhere, haven't cared enough to look for him, I'm surprised you remember him after the gavel did its thing. He's probably fine. If you want I can convince Willy to get the court to undo that part of your sentencing, I was only focusing on getting you out of here before you died.” Bill grinned as he continued to walk, letting Glenn's grip on his wrist act as a guide for him.
Nick is still here. I can get my son back. I can truly have my life back. But what about the guys? Could they end up getting hurt while I try to get Nick back?
Glenn thought about it for a long time, only stopping for a moment when they left the supermax, the sun acting as a blinding force painful enough to make him hiss and let go of Bill's wrist to try and block the offending light. A moment later, or maybe an hour, he felt a warm hand pull his arm away and replace his red glasses with something else. Opening his eyes, he found the world now dark and shaded. Bill no longer had his dark glasses on his head.
“That help, Glenny? Guessing leaving a place like that cell and going into the day at high noon feels a lot like a bad hangover, huh?”
You care about something like this? Since when do you care enough to help me?
Bill came and put an arm over his shoulder, “Something tells me Barry is going to need to grow some sleeping flowers, looks like we're both going to need them,” he turned to Glenn with a large smile on his face and threw up the devil horns, “maybe something to easy your nerves will help you talk some more, hm?”
Glenn just stares at him. A man who was never there when he needed him, or there at the most inconvenient of times, was finally present at the perfect time. And he was helping and trying to do more for him. He was truly there.
As Glenn and Bill walked through the woods, Glenn saw for once a light that wasn't blinding. He saw hope.