(West Wing Inside San Fernando Prison)

The silence inside the warden's office was deafening. Mark struggled to keep himself calm, despite the knowledge that they just heard a gun fired from the outside of the prison building. The continuous noise that kept coming from behind the walls, and the wide grin plastered on the face of one of the renegades they caught, only heightened the agitation Mark felt.

Suddenly, a collective chatter amongst the bound intruders broke the silence. Mark walked towards them and with the deadliest glare he could muster, he looked down at them, then asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

One of the men wiggled and tried to free himself before he answered, "You're all dead, it has begun."

Mark threw a glance at Raffy who at that time was busy with the radio, desperately trying his best to get someone on the line. He then ran a hand over his face and said, "We should find the others."

"Don't you think it's best to open the building and get our ass out of here first?" Jhonny asked, his voice shaking amidst every word.

"That's the stupidest thing you've said all day." Raffy retorted while eyeing his companion with a frown

Barely holding back from growling out the words, Mark suggested, "I think it's time we leave this office and find the others."

Raffy was immediately on his feet, barely keeping his stance, he walked up to Mark and asked if he had lost his mind.

"We've hidden inside this place long enough, clearly, something is happening outside, and we must re-group with the others before we make that decision," Mark answered angrily.

The two guards with him looked at each other, frustrating him in the process. They seemed to have made up their minds.

Mark grabbed Raffy by the shoulder, holding back the urge to lash out, he took a deep breath then explained, "Were guards, our job was to guard, not to hide," and with that, Mark went for the door and stepped out of the room.

"Did he have a gun?" Johnny asked worriedly.

Raffy didn't give a reply, he instead, went for the door, pushed it closed, and walked back to fumble with the radio.

"Are we gonna let him off on his own?" Jhonny prodded, hoping to get a reaction from Raffy, who looked paler than before.

But despite Johnny's efforts, Raffy continued to ignore his words.

"Ya'll have to accept it, you're all dead!" screamed one of the bound renegades. Fuelled by frustration, Jhonny headed for the guy and kicked him in the jaw.

Without warning, Raffy stood from his position, eyed Jhonny, and said, "Double the bounds on their feet and arms, we'll go after Mark."
***

(South Wing)

"Well, what happened next?" Kelvin asked, curiosity and awe written all over his face.

"This is not a movie idiot," Rodney answered.

Oscar waltzes toward Sheldon, his face reminiscent of a father who saw his child in so much pain. "Man, I can pass as your father, given your Maria's son. I know it hurts, but I can only offer this, " If you want to know the truth, you'd better ask your mother for it."

"I still can't believe this. I know my father was not a great husband to her, but I would never have thought he and my grandparents treated my mom this way." Sheldon answered. He grimaced when the thought of what the letters contained, was the possible truth.

"I see no reason for 247 to lie about this," Oscar said apologetically.

Oscar may have lived a corrupt life, but Maria and BT were once a part of his childhood. They were once his friends, well, BT continued to be his friend, but for reasons unknown, he abandoned him.

Sheldon shook his head and handed the letters to Oscar, "Can you read it for now? I need a break," he murmured.

Oscar took the letter and began to read.
***

Dear Maria,

How are you? I had a dream last night. I saw you as a child. It was amazing. You looked exactly like you were when we were seven. Your ebony hair fell just above your waist. You were wearing a thick yellow headband donned with a ribbon in the middle. You had on a pink spaghetti-strapped dress, paired with a white sandal. The dream was so vivid, I almost felt the wind that blew when you ran past me. I wish I could have a dream like that every night, but then again, I fear it.

It makes staying here all the more difficult.

Maria, if we ever meet, somewhere in the next life, can you please look at me, truly look at me and not just a glance? Will you please gaze at me a little longer than you usually would?

I promise you; I will give you a smile that will make you smile back.

Because love, all I ever want, is to see you smile.

Is it okay if I continue with our topic last year?

I need to let you know.

I stayed beside you, all those months Maria. Those three long months when they left you to rot inside that house.

I knew you had all the material things a wife could ever want inside her household. I knew that despite their indifference, your husband kept a good amount of respect when it came to beautifying that two-story house of yours.

But I also knew, it was not because he wanted you to live comfortably. It was for his pride, to save face, and for people to believe that he was a good husband.

For three long months, I watched you drink yourself to sleep, force yourself to rise, and willed yourself to move, not because you were alive, but because it was a task. That's how I saw it, Maria.

I knew because I know you.

I could tell because I understood who you truly were.

You're not someone who was meant for that life, and I knew, a day would come when all those lights you kept trying to preserve would fade away if you stayed inside that house a bit longer.

I feared the coming of that day. I always prayed that you would give up on him. I always kept my ears open, just in case you'd decide to whisper it in the wind.

You might be wondering; how did I manage to stay by your side?

Do you remember the house next to yours, the old abandoned house owned by a Japanese family?

I occupied that house. I broke inside it and lived my life in the shadows of its walls. Of course, I still went to work, but I never went out before daybreak, nor did I come home before sundown.

I was someone who valued time more than anything. Because time was what made it possible for me to guard you.

It was not an easy life Maria, but when it came to you, nothing was ever easy. Yet, I rarely felt the difficulties of it all.

I want you to know that I never regretted it. I need you to know, that my love for you can never be measured or toppled over by something like a sacrifice. Because Maria, my time is yours, and will always remain to be yours.

I wish I could have done more for you in those three months. I'm sorry if watching and guarding was all I did.

I truly didn't know how to face you, or how to fix your problem. I had an idea, but it would hurt you, and hurting you was out of the question. I exist, only to protect you.

An employee in the butcher shop once asked me, Do you even have a life? The answer was simple, my life was living another life, it exists in a world that I could never enter. It felt like we were both in a parallel universe, where I could see and feel everything, but could never do anything about it. To watch, serve, and worry, was all I could do.

Tell me, was I wrong?

Merry Christmas my love. The snow has fallen, it covered the grounds like a reachable cloud, beautiful, majestic and clear. I wish I can touch them, but alas, just as you are to me, I can only watch it from a distance.

Love Forever

Your Silent Knight
***

Everyone remained silent, eyes glued on Oscar. Kelvin cleared his throat and said, "He was right you know."

"My father used to say, a man can never be too busy if he truly loves a woman, because he will always make time for her, without the need to beg for it."

Oscar raised an eyebrow while staring at the young guard. A man, far younger than himself, just delivered the words he too believed, but never dared to say out loud.

"Why do I feel that this Maria woman had something to do about 247's incarceration?" Rodney mumbled.

Upon his words, Sheldon immediately fell off the chair he was seated on.

Everyone looked at him, eyes filled with curiosity. The old guard cleared his throat, and with a heavy heart, he started to recount the events of February 9, 1970.