Disclaimer: I do not own the Pretender series, I am just borrowing the characters and I promise to return them intact *cough*more or less*cough*when I'm done playing.

Author's note: this story was written in answer to the pretender fanfic100 challenge, #80 posted at pretenderforsaken.com, and is rated R for abuse.

Definition

« See, » his tormentor said admiring his handiwork. His head was pulled back until he thought his neck would snap. « You belong to me now. Body and soul. » Then he was pushed back into the darkness of the trunk, screaming in agony into his gag when his abused shoulder hit the floor. Blinded by his tears and sweat, choking on his pain, he longed for unconsciousness but it seemed even that was too much to ask for. Instead he heard the engine start and frantically hoped that they wouldn't hit too many potholes.

He tried concentrating on his breathing in order to relax, but the voice of his captor haunted him. Body and soul. The words swirled in his head, taunting him. Body and soul. Body... he wasn't in a position to deny that, trussed up and now branded as he was... Blinking back more tears, desperate to move away from the humiliation, he latched onto the next word.

Soul... Depending on the dictionaries, there were between 6 and 14 definitions of the word but for all his knowledge he couldn't decide whether the voice had spoken the truth or not.

The disembodied spirit of a deceased person. For obvious reasons, this definition didn't apply to him. Yet.

The spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physical part. That was still his apparently. In spite of all the pain, he was still thinking. And if his gag had been removed he woud have told his tormentor exactly what he thought of the whole ordeal! His body tensed in anger and the ensuing shards of pain shattered his intellectual shield, sharp reminders of his condition. Bound and gagged in the stuffy trunk of a demented man's car. Refusing to succumb to panic, his mind pushed on.

The spiritual part of humans regarded in its moral aspect, or as believed to survive death and be subject to happiness or misery in the life to come. He wasn't sure if he believed in an afterlife, but if his soul was the part of him subject to misery, then it had definitely fallen into the wrong hands.

The emotional part of human nature; the seat of feelings or sentiments. According to that definition the voice had been right. Fear, pain, anger, despair, panic, they were all beyond his control now.

High-mindedness; spirit or courage. He wasn't sure how much longer he would have the strength to keep defying the monster in the driving seat.

As if on cue, the car swayed suddenly and he groaned in anguish, shaking in his bonds, fighting nausea. The last thing he wanted was to drown in his own vomit. It would have been so easy to let himself be overcome by helplessness, but he was nothing if not stubborn. There were more definitions. There had to be.

The embodiment of some quality. To the Centre he had been the embodiment of freedom and independence. A dangerous exemple, a ray of hope to be extinguished at all costs. Despite the running and the chasing he had managed to hold onto that for years , hoping to light the way for others. But he hadn't been alone then. Sydney had only ever been a phone call away. And Miss Parker too had been there for him, in her own way... But they weren't here now. No breadcrumbs left behind to lead them to him in good time. He was alone.

A human being; person. No friends, no plan, no comfort, no control, no hope... Take all that away and what was left? His eyes slowly opened as the answer dawned on him. He was left. He was a genius, able to outmatch anyone. An opportunity would arise. And until then... Survive, do whatever it took to live another day, even appear defeated. It was going to be the sim of his life, negociating the thin line between acting and madness but he had no choice.

The animating principle; the essential element of something. The car slowed down and stopped. He heard the driver's door open and shut, footsteps on gravel. He allowed himself a thin grim smile, just before daylight blinded him.The time had come to unfold his Pretender's wings and soar.