is it too late to say i love you?

Sylus drums his fingers along the cells' bars.

10.

Not one or two, although that would be preferred.

But ten long years he's been trapped here.

Starting today anyway.

The man-- no, Abbadon as he's come to know him, loves to remind him of each and every yearly milestone.

It's his way of providing a little mental anguish.

What for, he's not sure.

But he's had his fair share of torture for the next...millennium.

Not that Abbadon cares.

By his (rough) estimate, today should be another one of those days.

He sighs.

There's been too many of them.

Nothing ever changes.

Not really.

Other than the silence.

It's gotten a lot quieter these days.

Almost everyone from when he first arrived has either fallen at Abbadon's hands, or their own.

Suicide by bashing their skulls against the cage bars.

Gnarly way to go out.

He's seen it happen too many times.

And is always powerless to stop it.

They never even have the decency to do it when everyone else is asleep.

No-- that'd mean less trauma for those who choose to stick around.

And obviously, they can't have that.

It'd mean doing something thoughtful.

Something they clearly know nothing about.

Probably not a good idea to speak ill of the dead.

As Barry once told him, spirits of the deceased tend to be very petty.

But then again, the worst is behind him.

...Hopefully.

He definitely just jinxed himself.

But anyway-- at least there's still some familiar faces around.

Although few.

Like Rue.

Thank the heavens.

Losing some of the others --and he does mean some-- did suck, 'cause of course it did, but keeping Rue balances the scales a little.

Just a little, though.

Or maybe a little more. It's Rue after all.

Some of the kids have called him a 'love-sick puppy.' Definitely not.

Well...

Okay, maybe a little.

Well...

Alright-- a lot.

Nothing to be ashamed of, though.

What there is to be ashamed about...is him not telling her already.

For the average person with an average life, not spilling your guts out to the girl or whoever you like isn't so bad.

Unless its been a while. Then maybe its time to say something. 

Anything, really.

But his situation is...obviously different.

When either of you could die at any moment, it's probably for the best to say something.

If he wants her to know before either one of them dies a lonely and brutal death, that is.

Okay, that's really not helping.

His eyes find her across the room.

He doesn't even mean to look her way. 

Not really.

But he's not complaining that he did.

She's gorgeous.

Stunning like he's never seen before.

Curly red hair cascades down her back.

Beautiful chocolate skin she probably shouldn't have 'cause like, no melanin-- does it even work that way? He's seriously not sure.

The lack of education is starting to fry his brain.

Eyes so sharp he fears they might cut him in half.

God...

She really is something else.

And there's no one better. Believe that.

"You gonna keep staring at me all day, or come and talk with me to make this day a little more bearable?"

Oops.

Didn't mean to be so noticeable.

But if he looks away, she might lose whatever interest there is between them.

Is that how it works?

He's got no idea.

Completely helpless.

Can't hurt to try though.

"Uh..." Already off to a bad start.

This is just embarrassing.

Maybe Abbadon coming to whisk him away wouldn't be so bad right about now.

That sounds extreme but really isn't crazy to say.

"Cat got your tongue?" her smile is out of this world.

As well her confidence.

Another thing he loves about her.

The list is really, well...never-ending.

There's always something new to learn.

Something new to love.

Because its Rue.

"A little."

She raises her brow, smirking slightly. "Oh?"

Rue leans closer, her fingers gripping the bars.

"Keeping looking at me that way, and someone might get the wrong idea."

"What kind of...'wrong idea' might someone get?"

"You know-- don't play dumb with me."

Her smile...god, her smile.

"What if I want them to?" No idea where that one came from.

But it was smooth nonetheless.

There's a chance she was wrong about him.

Maybe he's not as dense as she thought.

She licks her chapped lips-- pressing her face against the bars.

"You'd better not be playing with me, Simmy."

He swallows thickly-- calming his nerves.

He's got this.

"Never."

Rue looks pleased with his answer, but her longing stare tells him she's not entirely satisfied. 

She wants more.

To hear more of what he thinks, what he wants.

To hear how he feels.

And Sylus isn't sure he's up to the challenge.

But he can try his best.

"Rue."

Yes?" she hums, a flicker of hope flashing in her irises.

"Let's say, hypothetically...there was something I've been dying to tell you."

"Hypothetically?" she eyes him suspiciously.

He grins. "Hypothetically."

"So let's say I wanted to express the deepest, most potent feelings of all time-- hypothetically, of course-- what would be your hypothetical reaction?"

She clicks her tongue, rolling it around inside her mouth-- trying her best to hide the smile creeping up on her features. "It depends. What kind of feelings?"

"The, uh, most romantic feelings of all time?"

"Then I'd...hypothetically say I've been dying to hear those words come out of your mouth."

He tries to stay calm.

She could just be playing around.

But he doesn't care.

This is all he's wanted for years.

It only took a decade of emotional and physical torment, but it was all worth it in the end for this moment alone.

The moment bet ween them stretches on for what feels like years.

He reaches out.

Desperate to touch her. To hold her.

But he knows that's impossible. 

Abbadon --nor the cages that hold them both captive-- wouldn't allow it.

Though, that doesn't stop him from wishing. From hoping.

And nothing will.

"Is it crazy to say I love you?"

She giggles.

Music to his ears.

"If that makes you crazy, then so am I-- because I love you too, Simmy."

It's been a while since he's felt genuinely happy.

And that's not to say there haven't been times of happiness, or spurts of joy.

He'd be lying if he said otherwise.

But true, lasting happiness?

The last time he can remember something like that...

Was before this nightmare became his new reality.

When days were simpler.

And his parents were still around.

"God, I miss them." It never gets easier.

But right now isn't the time.

He's happy.

Truly happy, right now. And he's sure that this time, it's going to last.

"So...what now? What comes out of this?"

She tilts her head, hair flowing down her face. 

"What do you want to come out of this? Because I know what I want."

"I think I want to be with you. As much as we can be."

"I wanna be with you too. I have for years." 

She too reaches for him.

So close and yet so far.

Disappointing but not disheartening.

Because someday things will change.

And they'll finally be together.

Finally be in love with no restrictions. Nothing holding them back.

He just as to hold out as long as he can until that day comes.

"So we're dating?"

She nods excitedly, no longer trying to contain the emotions bubbling up to the surface. "We are."

"I should've said something sooner."

"Agreed. But I don't know, I like how things played out-- even if it was a little slow."

"Since it took so long, why don't we just skip ahead and get married already, or something?"

Rue snorts, shaking her head. "Alright, slow your roll there, tiger-- we have plenty of time for that." He can only hope so.

"This is nice-- being with you, I mean."

"It's nice being with you too. Even better that everyone else is asleep."

"Speaking of the others-- what are we going to tell them?"

"We don't have to tell 'em anything if you don't want to. It can be our little secret," she winks playfully.

"I'd like that."

His tongue glazes over his lips. "I like everything to do with you."

"I hope so, 'cause I like everything to do with you too."

Sylus sighs.

"I want this moment to last forever."

But it won't.

Unfortunately, it can't.

That doesn't stop him from wishing it could.

"Me too, Simmy. Me too."

He pauses.

"Is it too early to come up with pet names? Like, err...baby, or honey? I haven't done this before."

She laughs like there's no tomorrow.

Genuine and unfiltered as always.

"We can move at our own pace. Whatever you want to do, I want to do."

"What if I want to run away with you? Leave all of this behind, and start fresh in some random town where no one knows who we are?"

"Then I'd follow right behind you, but we both know that'll never happen. Abbadon is never going to let us go-- he's never going to let you go."

"What if we could, though? What if we could escape?"

"Then you know I'd be the first one to try whatever it takes to get out of here, but its just not possible. I accepted that a long time ago."

"You might've, but I haven't. I'll never accept the idea that we're here forever, no matter what he says or does. We can do it, we can escape-- all of us can."

"Barry used to say the same thing. That line of thinking got him put six feet in the ground-- I don't want that happening to you or I."

"Which is all the more reason to keep hoping, dreaming-- it's not just about us but all of our friends who died with hopes and dreams of their own."

He lays his head down, though maintains eye-contact with his new girlfriend.

"I'm not going to give up on getting out of here-- with our lives-- and, I get that you've been here longer than I have and already tried escaping, but you shouldn't give up either."

"I don't know if I can," she replies honestly. "Too much has happened, too much has been lost. I'm trying to hope, to still dream, but I just...can't do it anymore."

It's times like these he wishes he could rip open this cage and go hug her, to tell her everything is going to be okay.

But he can't.

Hell, he can't even tell her everything will be okay, because he's not so sure of their fate himself.

And he's not going to lie to her or his consciousness.

It just wouldn't be right.

"I know...but we can't give up. Even if things don't look good."

She sighs.

Not heavy with frustration, but low with sadness.

"And I know that. But I don't think I can do it."

"I get that."

Or, at least a small part of him does.

The rest isn't so sure.

Giving up has never been in his DNA.

His parents made sure of that.

They taught him strength. Heart. Resilience.

All of which have stuck with him.

Giving up now would be a betrayal of their ideals.

And "I can't do that. I won't. Or else I'd have nothing left of them to hold onto."

As far as he knows, she doesn't have that.

Not really.

So its hardly surprising that she's fine with giving up.

All of them are.

Its like second-nature.

And so, to a degree, he understands.

But he doesn't agree nor condone.

Giving up and accepting their circumstances, accepting this as their new life, is, in no uncertain terms, letting Abbadon win. Letting him control not just their present, but future.

Because without giving him the go-ahead, without giving him permission to enslave and dehumanize them, he has nothing. Nothing but scraps.

They give him power.

Their actions. Their willingness or unwillingness.

Nothing else and nothing more.

And they've given him too much for far too long.

Its not too late to turn things around though.

Never is.

But they have to be willing to do so.

Yet no one is.

No one but him and the now deceased Barry.

His last words are still haunting to hear.

Awful to hear, and awful to repeat.

"I'm tired." Hardly.

But this conversation isn't going to go anywhere.

Not with two wildly opposing view-points that'd only turn a normal discussion into an argument.

And starting their relationship off with a heated argument probably isn't a good thing.

Or so he assumes.

"Me too."

"I wish you could be here with me right now."

"...I do too. I do too."

"Goodnight..."

"I love you, Simmy."

"I love you too. Maybe a little more than you love me." 

She snorts. "Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

This is nice. 

But the time to get a good-nights rest before all of the younger kids wake up is running out.

He closes his eyes, sewing them shut.

They can open when its time to wake up.

Which will --hopefully-- not be anytime soon.

8 hours is the minimum amount of sleep he's hoping to get.

It might be a long-shot, but no one gets anything done without first having a little bit of hope.

He takes getting his beauty sleep very seriously.

Who doesn't?

Especially when he has a girlfriend now.

It feels weird yet right calling her his. 

Can't slack off on his looks now.

Not that he really...knows what he looks like, anyway.

Well-- nothing concrete.

From what everyone has told him --as well the bits and pieces of what he remembers about himself-- his dark brown hair is impossibly curly, his skin is...obviously pale yet has hints of a tan from years ago, and his eyes are a special, unusual green.

But that's only what his friends and girlfriend have said.

His own memories and recollection are...fuzzy at best, and almost non-existent at worst.

He was never really the priority, though.

Maintaining the beauty of his mother and father in his mind, however, was.

And fortunately, he succeeded.

At the cost of losing his view of self.

But it's worth it.

Always has been.

"Goodnight, mom and dad. And you too, Rue."

"I love you all."

And eventually, he peacefully dozes off.