Hey ya'll this is the last chapter for this story! Yee!!!
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The next day I was suddenly awaken by the sound of rushing footsteps approaching my cell at a very rapid pace. The door swung open and very anxious and hurried men ran towards me and fumbled with my handcuffs, as though trying to get them undone. When they had accomplished that they urged me to walk, but being as weak as I was I could not. They tried to force me into walking but I kept falling onto the ground, so they resorted to carrying me to the final destination.
My head swayed from side-to-side as I could not hold up my head and my eyes open and closed slowly. When I was set back into handcuffs I slumped over again only to be snapped up by the force of a strong hand. I soon realized that I was looking into the eyes of my torturer. His usually cold and evil eyes were now glazed with fear and insanity. His hand steadily shook my limp head and his grip tightened with every shake.
"You did this," he hissed, drawing my head closer to his, "You have to of done this. You are the reason that they are coming."
Though my eyes were heavy with weakness, they soon had question mist over them. "What are you talking about?" I murmured slowly.
"You know of what I speak!" He threw me to the wall and I painfully slid down it, scratching my all ready bruised and burned back. "You friend, Jack Aubrey, he is coming, he is almost here and he is coming for you!" He looked down at me and a small twitch ran across his face, his smirk erased. "He won't get you though, no. I'll make sure he never finds you; that I can promise."
At the words of Jack's coming, a new hope raised in me, but a part of me was now worried what this man, insane with fear, was going to do to me before Jack could get here. He started pacing muttered under his breath.
He finally turned to me with a glare and condemned, "I will have to finish what I have started." He looked down at my hands and shook his head as though to affirm that this was the right thing to do, that this would solve all of his problems.
He swiftly walked over to his desk and pulled out a drawer that was loaded with horrible looking devices. He floated his hands above each one, as though to sense their abilities. He picked up a club with tiny spikes on the end of it.
He surely meant to kill me.
He walked forward, as I backed into the wall and he pressed the spikes against my mutated flesh. He looked me in the eyes and never dropped his gaze as he impaled me with the barb. I gasped in pain, not willing to cry out, as he pulled the club across my stomach, making a line of blood appear on my already soiled shirt.
I snapped my eyes shut and clutched my hands into fists, which only caused me greater pain. Then suddenly, I felt the point taken out of me. I opened my eyes to see that other French officers were now in the room and they looked anxious and scared.
"Sir, the English Captain is coming; he has almost penetrated the bottom floor. Should we fight?" an unsure officer sputtered.
The evil man turned to look at him and replied, after eyeing me one more time, "No, it is him that they want," he pointed towards me, "and by your looks, I would say that we are outnumbered. No, I want you to get all the rest of the officers on this floor and escape through the passage and I will come with you." He turned back to me and gave me one last blow that caused me to slip slowly back into darkness.
I awoke to the sound of screams and yells from men, a sound I had long forgotten. I heard footsteps running towards the door that was holing them away from me, who ever they were.
They were now slamming the door, as though to open it and a part of me was frightened, but another was relieved.
When the door finally gave way, it was like an angel stepped into the room. Light flooded into the room and momentarily blinded me, but when I could see again I knew this angel.
"Jack," I called out softly, as though to myself.
I soon saw his face; it was riddled with worry and a fear that scarcely graced his face before. I smiled at him, as to reassure him that I was alright, even though we both knew that I was indeed not.
He stepped forward and immediately got to work on my handcuffs. He did not notice my hands for the haste that he took gave me great pain and I whispered, "Handsomely dear."
Then I felt myself fall into his arms and I knew I was safe again.
I was laid down onto a cart and could feel the cool night air gently whisper across my face and into my hair. The fresh air filled my lungs and I felt a little better.
I stared up into the sky and saw the stars blinking lightly upon the canvas sky. I looked back a bit more and saw the solemn face of Jack. He looked down at me and gave me a small smile. He put his hand upon my shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. I turned my head to where it was upon Jack's warm hand and he slowly ran it up my face and into my hair where he gently stroked me.
We entered our final destination and I was carried by Bonden and Jack up the stairs into a room where a man and women sat waiting by a bed with medical tools and swabs. I was placed on the bed and Jack sat where he was positioned so he only faced the upper part of me, my neck and head.
"Dr. Maturin, I know that this may hurt, but I have to clean you wounds. Just relax," a gentle voice of a man spoke.
I could feel my shirt being unbuttoned with utmost delicacy with each button. My shirt, though gently stripped off, clung onto my healing wounds, causing me great pain when it finally did let go.
The man took my hands gently and examined them before he placed some ointment and bandages upon them. This did not cause me great harm, as my hands where gently handled with care and partly because Jack was stroking my hair in a calming way.
Then the pain came.
The man was now dealing with my stomach and torso and the pain was incredible. My eyes began to water and I tensed up. I finally closed my eyes tightly and let out a painful breath, but then, through all this pain, heard a soothing voice that was cooing to me. My breathing was rigged and with every breath, fresh pain was inhaled, but Jack seemed to soothe every part of me.
I opened my eyes to meet his blue eyes boring into mine and I whimpered. He looked at me with concern and love. He wiped the beads of sweet that traveled down my face and pressed his cheek against mine. He ran his hands through my hair and still cooed into my ear, even though I was fidgeting with pain.
Finally, the doctor said, "There, I am done. You can rest now."
I sighed with relief and let out my remaining sobs of pain and relaxed. Jack looked down at me and whispered in my ear, "See, love, everything is going to be alright," and he gave me a small kiss on my cheek. "I love you, Stephen, and I need you to stay strong. You should rest." He got up as though he was going to leave.
I looked back at him and replied shakily, "Jack, don't leave me, please. I cannot sleep without you by my side."
His eyes started to mist over and he replied, "My dear, do not mistake for one second that I will ever leave you; you, soul, are far too important to me." He sat down next to me and stayed with me the rest of the night and into the next day, never leaving.
As I look back upon that night, all I remember is thinking Jack an angel of mercy and love. Who knows, maybe he is my own angel. What I do know is that he is the reason I am still alive today. Jack is my angel that retrieved me from Hell and brought me back to the light.