There were no more tears.

Aaron was sitting on the edge of his bunk in solitary. Together with a toilet, it was the only thing in the room. 

A whole night without Moloch—it should decrease the hole inside him. Except it didn't. After all, he'd expected to be freed from that asshole today—and all the days that followed. 

Nothing could be further from the truth. 

All he could do now was wait until he was sent back to his torturer. He would never be free. That life with Rick he'd fantasized about was nothing but an illusion. An unattainable dream. 

Aaron wrapped his arms tighter around his knees. 

That sweet Rick... How would he take the news? Did he know Aaron was here? Or would he be in shock in a little while, when Aaron was allowed to leave this cell? He couldn't imagine how his boyfriend would feel. He'd been so concerned with him from the beginning! Rick also knew what this meant—that he would always belong to Moloch, unless he took his own life. 

But that was something he dreaded. 

Moloch would do everything in his power to make Rick take his place. Only when Rick was set free in a few months, and far away from Moloch, he would reconsider an act like that. 

Aaron however didn't know how to hold on. His release had been his anchor, a moment he'd hold on to. There had been a future and that future was gone now. Here, inside this cell, where his memories were his greatest enemy, he could promise himself he would withstand Moloch's terror. But during the dark nights, in which his body no longer felt like his? During the day, in which time always passed too fast and night always came too soon? He wasn't so sure.

His whole life was defined by Moloch. 

It revolved around pain, around shame. 

There were ways to ease his pain. Crack. Something that was traded here as well. But how could he get it? He couldn't sell his body; nobody but Rick would dare to touch Moloch's property. And he lacked money or other possessions. 

Would they give him some coke, out of pity? Did they mind giving him a few moments of numbness? Moments when he wasn't so aware of what was happening to him? 

Maybe he could ask Mateo. He had money; enough to bribe a guard so Rick and he could spend a night together. 

He laid down on the bed and curled into a ball. 

But why would Mateo waste his money on him? Or would he do it for Rick? He still didn't understand the relationship between these two. He however found it hard to estimate how Rick would respond. Drugs wasn't nothing. The last thing Aaron wanted was to become an addict, but right now he was about to seize every way out. 

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut. 

He imagined himself back in the cells, where he was changing the bedding with Rick. He saw Rick's smile when he showed him a piece of chocolate, carefully shoving it between Aaron's lips. Then he thought back to that night when Moloch was in solitary and Rick entered his cell. How they'd laid in bed together, in the first embrace that didn't feel suffocating. 

Oh, how he wished Rick was here now. 

He wanted to feel his arms around him and bury his face against his shoulder. He wanted to feel Rick's fingertips stroke his hair; hear his soft breathing. He wanted to listen to his promises of a life outside this prison. 

Even if it were lies. 

He wanted to cling to every way out, whether it was a fantasy or not. 

He would rather lose his mind than being aware of what Moloch did to him. 

And cocaine... cocaine didn't sound that bad. 

He just didn't know where to get it, whether he could use it without Moloch noticing and whether Rick would still want him when he started to use drugs. 

But he needed to do something. 

Otherwise, he would never get through this and he was afraid for what his despair would make him do. 

Something that would cause his boyfriend, sister and mother so much pain that only thinking about it already caused a sky-high amount of guilt. 

But I need a way out.