Title: Freedom and Bondage
Fandom: James Bond (Skyfall '12)
Characters/Parings: 00Silva or Bond/Silva
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Summary: Sequel to Bleach and The Gift. Bond seeks to continue to heal Silva.
A/N: Even less strange.
==Warnings: There is no actual Bondage, look at the rating.==
They are in a private jet. Bond shouldn’t be surprised; there is no way that Silva wouldn’t travel back to England if he could not go in style. And yet when they had arrived at the airport and gone not to a regular plane but to this private jet, he had no doubts was Silva’s he had been taken a bit aback, “Are you comfy dear James?” Silva asks him, stalling his thoughts.
He is not sure what comfy means. They are after all, on their way to kill her. He cannot bring himself to say her name. He wonders if that is why Silva calls her mummy instead, because he too cannot call her by her name. He does not think his madness is that great yet, that he would call her mummy, so for now she is a nameless name, one of many. Lost to time, like his marks, “For the most part.” He replies.
Silva smiles, “Good, good, this plane is high art. I do not want you to feel any discomfort.”
James settles into his chair and tries to think of a distraction, which is when he remembers that. He pulls out the slim box and hands it to Silva, “For you.”
Reaching across to the box Silva takes it with something close to glee on his face, “For me?”
“Because of the gun.” James tells him.
“Ah.”
He watches as Silva opens the box. Inside are two bracelets, both made of thin tough durable rope. James then reaches into his sack lying on the floor by his feet, and takes out another item - a sharp but small, hunting knife. Silva narrows his eyes at him, “And what do you plan to do with that dear James?”
He beings to explain, “The bracelets are your bondage, during the time with the Chinese. You will put the first one on, and then cut it, and then you will put the second one on to never forget.”
James knows that his gift is a bit odd, but Silva had set him loose in China for a small while before they had left. He does not fear that James will leave him. The agent had long since sealed his fate when he had given up to Silva, after all those months on the island. Where he had been broken not by fists or hands but with twisted truths and kindness, a kindness she had never shown. Since he had spoken those horrible words, “What do you need me to do?”
When he had seen the bracelets then he had gotten them. They feel a bit sentimental but he could not have stopped himself from getting them if he had tried.
He looks up at Silva who grins at him, his madness clearly evident on his face, “Oh dearheart, for me? You should not have.”
Instinctively James knows this. But it does not change the joy he feels when Silva reaches out for the knife. He is truly lost.