Thomgelica One-shots because not enough people write about them.

Partners in Crime

When all this had started three years ago the thought of ending up in prison had never scared Thomas. He had needed money, a way to eat, and a way to provide for his girlfriend so he had resorted to burglary.

Angelica being herself had of course thought it to be a bad idea because it was, it was a crime and a bad idea. Thomas had brushed off her concerns because they had needed to eat and they certainly could not continue to live in their car. And besides, it had only been a one-time thing. Just something to get them through the month.

That plan had quickly been tossed out the window because something that had started out as a need for some fast cash had soon spiraled into an addictive thrill. It had been as addicting as the air he breathed into his lungs. It made him feel alive and so like any addict would he sought out that thrill. Angelica by his side because of course the woman who he believed to be his soulmate would enjoy crime as much as him. And still, his fear of ending up in prison had been pushed so far down that Thomas had thought it to be nonexistent.

For three years Angelica and Thomas had bounced from house to house, from city to city, they had even managed to rob three different banks. They had been living the life of luxury and madly in love with each other. Angelica meant more to Thomas than any priceless jewel he had stolen or ever would steal.

So while they had lived out their thrill-seeking fantasy life Thomas had made sure Angelica had everything she could ever want for and when he was so concentrated on Angelica how could he ever be afraid of prison?

Those three years had been nothing but bliss. Maybe ignorant bliss because they had been far too absorbed in their world of crime and romance to notice any real problems. But bliss nonetheless. And so, no, Thomas really hadn't thought he cared about prison or the possibility of ending up there.

But now as he sits on the curb of the sidewalk, handcuffed, the cold biting at his skin through his thin hoodie, the blaring sirens, the brightly intense lights, while he searches with his eyes for Angelica because the cops had separated them he thinks that perhaps fear is not always so bad.

It keeps you from being split from the woman you love.

...

Five years in prison.

It would have been fifteen had he not taken a plea deal. It had dawned upon him as he and his lawyers had discussed his case that he is in fact scared of prison, scared of being locked in there, so far away from Angelica.

The cell he sits in now is dimly lit with a lightbulb that's flickering in and out. The floor is damp with what he hopes is water, a metal bed with a mattress that's more like a blanket is propped in the corner of his cell, and to top it all of a metal toilet that won't stop making this whirring noise.

He has half a mind to go over there and kick it, he doesn't have enough strength for that though. Mentally and physically he is weak. The prison guards had thrown him in here and this little corner is the place he had landed and this is the place he shall stay.

As he sits with his back against the stone wall with his knees pulled close to his chest it amazes him that he had once been so stupid and reckless. He's stuck in prison for five long years and he doesn't think he'll survive, he's only been here for five hours and already he can feel himself being dragged down into this endless hole of darkness. The kind of darkness that is cold, and lonely, and scary.

He thinks that if he didn't have those memories of Angelica that seem so foggy and so incredibly far away he would already be gone.

But he's not gone, not yet. He's curled up in the corner of a chilly prison cell, the steel bars taunting him because they both know he'll never make it out of here.