Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Wake Me Up When The Nightmare Ends
Pete closed his eyes as the two men laughed harshly at him. He had never felt so helpless; lying on the floor, handcuffed, his wrists weeping from the lacerations that had, at least, stopped bleeding. He heard the door slammed shut and the lock snap closed automatically before the room was plunged into darkness.
Determined not to release the pain and fear he felt inside him, Pete slowly shuffled backwards until his back was pressed against the wall. Somehow, despite everything he had suffered, the touch of the cold tiled wall behind him offered a modicum of safety. At the very least, no one could sneak up behind him. With his knees drawn up, his left hand resting under his chin and his right hand supported by the left, he had found some level of comfort as he lay, trying hard to bear his agony.
Exhausted, but with his mind still racing, Pete found himself unable to sleep. His mind kept returning to thoughts of Ashlee and Bronx, of Patrick and how he may never see them again. Was it likely he would be released? They wore masks, but he had seen one of them already, masquerading as a therapist. Had he forgotten? Or did he just think that Pete would never remember him? It was a likely enough assumption as Pete recalled the only detail he could remember about the man was that he was blond. The drug with which he had been knocked out had wiped out a lot of the detail from the attack, so much so, that it had taken the appearance in the meat locker of the two men to remind him that he had even been kidnapped.
Pete’s breathing quickened as he remembered his stupid mistake of telling the lead man that he recognised his voice. If he were honest, if only with himself, he had probably just signed his own death warrant. Images of his family flooded his mind once more as the tears, that he had been so desperate to hold back, filled his eyes. Terrified at the possibility that he may never see his son again, Pete’s shoulders shook as the wrenching sobs took hold of him. Giving in fully to his anxiety, he allowed the tears to flow unhindered.
As if to rescue him from the horror of his situation, a wave of sleep finally washed over him. Allowing the comforting feeling to settle over him like a warm blanket, Pete drifted off into a deep sleep, but one filled with disturbing dreams and images.
*
At the sound of the lock shifting, Pete opened his eyes. He had been awake for a couple of hours, but he had managed to find a comfortable position and chose to remain in it. With the red light of the surveillance camera still blinking, he hoped that by keeping his eyes closed, he might remain undisturbed. So far, it had worked, and they had left him to his own thoughts and fears. Still, even that was preferable to the torture he had endured the day before. Now, they were coming again and he could only pray that they wouldn’t hurt him even more than they already had. With some difficulty, he rolled onto his side and placed his hands on the floor, grimacing as the cuffs knocked against the cuts and welts around his wrists. Pushing himself to his knees with some difficulty, he was still looking down, trying to set his balance when the door opened.
“What the hell have you done to him?” A familiar voice cried.
Pete’s head snapped up immediately at the sound of Patrick’s voice. He was elated to see him, but, at the same time, distressed to see him join him in the cell.
“Trick!” He bit his lip, as the two men followed Patrick into the cell. “They got you too?”
Patrick knelt at Pete’s side and gently took hold of his forearms. Examining the cuts around Pete’s wrists, now partially crusted over with still weeping scabs.
“I can’t believe this!” Patrick shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Pete.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault,” Pete forced a smile to try to convince his friend that he was well and that the suffering was more than bearable.
“Take these off him!” Patrick snapped angrily.
Pete’s mouth fell open at Patrick’s boldness. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Patrick take charge in so dramatic a way. He rarely accepted rudeness or insensitive behaviour, especially towards a friend, but these men were dangerous. Didn’t he realise that?
“Patrick,” Pete whispered. “No! You…”
Pete’s gentle warning came to an abrupt halt as the tattooed man stepped forward and Patrick rose to his feet, stepping back. Pulling a key from his pocket, the man knelt to unlock the handcuffs.
Slowly, the truth began to dawn on him and Pete found himself momentarily and uncharacteristically lost for words.
“I want his wrists treated and bandaged,” Patrick snapped angrily. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about this? Did you imagine that somehow I’d think it was acceptable? Don’t you dare hurt him any more!”
“Patrick?” Pete ventured, wishing what he heard wasn’t true. A momentary pause gave Pete the time to find his anger. “What the hell is going on? You had me kidnapped?”
Turning his head to face his confused and furious friend, Patrick shrugged casually. “Yeah. You weren’t supposed to be hurt though.”
Still on his knees and now held by the tattooed man, forcefully and painfully by his upper arms, Pete finally gave up struggling and yelled his protests.
“What the fuck is this? Publicity stunt? Money? I’ve upset you somehow? Do Andy and Joe know about this?”
“A little of everything,” Patrick replied casually. “And, no, Andy and Joe don’t know. This is just our little secret.”
“Yeah? Well it won’t be for long!” Pete yelled, furious at Patrick’s apparent indifference.
“Why?” Patrick chuckled. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Pete’s mouth opened and closed in shock. Speechless and stunned by the reply, Pete could only stare silently at Patrick as he gave his last order before turning his back to leave.
“Keep the cuffs on his ankles. He’s surprisingly agile and strong. He’s had stunt training.” Turning his head, Patrick laughed over his shoulder. “You’ve got quite a kick on you these days, haven’t you, Pete? Gotta keep that under control, haven’t we?”
Writhing again in the man’s grip, Pete screamed his frustration as he was held firm.
“You bastard!” he screamed as he heard Patrick chuckle. “I can’t believe you did this to me!”
“No,” Patrick agreed with a knowing laugh as he stepped through the door. “No one else will either.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - Don't hate me for this!! There is more to it than meets the eye!
Determined not to release the pain and fear he felt inside him, Pete slowly shuffled backwards until his back was pressed against the wall. Somehow, despite everything he had suffered, the touch of the cold tiled wall behind him offered a modicum of safety. At the very least, no one could sneak up behind him. With his knees drawn up, his left hand resting under his chin and his right hand supported by the left, he had found some level of comfort as he lay, trying hard to bear his agony.
Exhausted, but with his mind still racing, Pete found himself unable to sleep. His mind kept returning to thoughts of Ashlee and Bronx, of Patrick and how he may never see them again. Was it likely he would be released? They wore masks, but he had seen one of them already, masquerading as a therapist. Had he forgotten? Or did he just think that Pete would never remember him? It was a likely enough assumption as Pete recalled the only detail he could remember about the man was that he was blond. The drug with which he had been knocked out had wiped out a lot of the detail from the attack, so much so, that it had taken the appearance in the meat locker of the two men to remind him that he had even been kidnapped.
Pete’s breathing quickened as he remembered his stupid mistake of telling the lead man that he recognised his voice. If he were honest, if only with himself, he had probably just signed his own death warrant. Images of his family flooded his mind once more as the tears, that he had been so desperate to hold back, filled his eyes. Terrified at the possibility that he may never see his son again, Pete’s shoulders shook as the wrenching sobs took hold of him. Giving in fully to his anxiety, he allowed the tears to flow unhindered.
As if to rescue him from the horror of his situation, a wave of sleep finally washed over him. Allowing the comforting feeling to settle over him like a warm blanket, Pete drifted off into a deep sleep, but one filled with disturbing dreams and images.
*
At the sound of the lock shifting, Pete opened his eyes. He had been awake for a couple of hours, but he had managed to find a comfortable position and chose to remain in it. With the red light of the surveillance camera still blinking, he hoped that by keeping his eyes closed, he might remain undisturbed. So far, it had worked, and they had left him to his own thoughts and fears. Still, even that was preferable to the torture he had endured the day before. Now, they were coming again and he could only pray that they wouldn’t hurt him even more than they already had. With some difficulty, he rolled onto his side and placed his hands on the floor, grimacing as the cuffs knocked against the cuts and welts around his wrists. Pushing himself to his knees with some difficulty, he was still looking down, trying to set his balance when the door opened.
“What the hell have you done to him?” A familiar voice cried.
Pete’s head snapped up immediately at the sound of Patrick’s voice. He was elated to see him, but, at the same time, distressed to see him join him in the cell.
“Trick!” He bit his lip, as the two men followed Patrick into the cell. “They got you too?”
Patrick knelt at Pete’s side and gently took hold of his forearms. Examining the cuts around Pete’s wrists, now partially crusted over with still weeping scabs.
“I can’t believe this!” Patrick shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Pete.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault,” Pete forced a smile to try to convince his friend that he was well and that the suffering was more than bearable.
“Take these off him!” Patrick snapped angrily.
Pete’s mouth fell open at Patrick’s boldness. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Patrick take charge in so dramatic a way. He rarely accepted rudeness or insensitive behaviour, especially towards a friend, but these men were dangerous. Didn’t he realise that?
“Patrick,” Pete whispered. “No! You…”
Pete’s gentle warning came to an abrupt halt as the tattooed man stepped forward and Patrick rose to his feet, stepping back. Pulling a key from his pocket, the man knelt to unlock the handcuffs.
Slowly, the truth began to dawn on him and Pete found himself momentarily and uncharacteristically lost for words.
“I want his wrists treated and bandaged,” Patrick snapped angrily. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about this? Did you imagine that somehow I’d think it was acceptable? Don’t you dare hurt him any more!”
“Patrick?” Pete ventured, wishing what he heard wasn’t true. A momentary pause gave Pete the time to find his anger. “What the hell is going on? You had me kidnapped?”
Turning his head to face his confused and furious friend, Patrick shrugged casually. “Yeah. You weren’t supposed to be hurt though.”
Still on his knees and now held by the tattooed man, forcefully and painfully by his upper arms, Pete finally gave up struggling and yelled his protests.
“What the fuck is this? Publicity stunt? Money? I’ve upset you somehow? Do Andy and Joe know about this?”
“A little of everything,” Patrick replied casually. “And, no, Andy and Joe don’t know. This is just our little secret.”
“Yeah? Well it won’t be for long!” Pete yelled, furious at Patrick’s apparent indifference.
“Why?” Patrick chuckled. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Pete’s mouth opened and closed in shock. Speechless and stunned by the reply, Pete could only stare silently at Patrick as he gave his last order before turning his back to leave.
“Keep the cuffs on his ankles. He’s surprisingly agile and strong. He’s had stunt training.” Turning his head, Patrick laughed over his shoulder. “You’ve got quite a kick on you these days, haven’t you, Pete? Gotta keep that under control, haven’t we?”
Writhing again in the man’s grip, Pete screamed his frustration as he was held firm.
“You bastard!” he screamed as he heard Patrick chuckle. “I can’t believe you did this to me!”
“No,” Patrick agreed with a knowing laugh as he stepped through the door. “No one else will either.”
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A/N - Don't hate me for this!! There is more to it than meets the eye!
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