FicWad

Gerard's P.O.V:
"Mikey!" I screamed, still struggling with the guy kneeling on my back.

I watched as my brother went limp in the arms of the curly-haired tatooed man. "What the fuck have you done to him?" I sobbed. Please, don't let him be dead...

"Relax, beautiful, it's just a little chloroform," The tatooed man told me. "He'll be fine in a couple of hours. But the question is, what do we do with you?"

"What... what do you mean?" I swallowed.

"Well, we can't have you knowing where we're going now, can we?" He chuckled. He dug in his pocket and found a medical needle full of some kind of liquid. "Ah. Perfect."

I felt my eyes widen and my skin pale as he approached me. I hated needles. I hated them so much. My stomach twisted and knotted. I wanted to be sick, but I couldn't quite manage it. "What's the matter, beautiful? Scared of needles?" The man on top of me chuckled as his companion stuck the needle into my arm and pressed down on the plunger.

The room went blurry before I felt myself slip into unconciousness.

*

When I came round again I was in a small, dark, damp room, lying on a concrete floor. I struggled to sit up. A jangling noise told me I was chained to some copper pipes behind me by my ankle. I could hear muffled sobs coming from not far away from me. I crawled along on my hands and knees until I found Mikey. I gasped when I saw him.

He was completely naked apart from his boxer-briefs. His hands were bound at the small of his back by a piece of thick rope. He had the same bonds around his ankles and his knees. His glasses were gone and, forcing his delicate pink lips apart, was a rubber ball gag about the size of my fist. "Oh, God, Mikey," I said. I scrabbled at the back of his head, unfastening the gag and wrenching it away. He gasped gratefully for breath, still crying. "Sh, now. Don't cry." I lay down next to him and stroked his hair.

"That's why they did this to me," He sobbed. "I woke up hours ago. I just saw you lying there and you weren't moving or breathing or anything. I thought you were dead. I cried for you, I screamed your name, I was shaking you for twenty minutes. Why didn't you wake up?"

"I didn't hear - they must've drugged me," I explained.

"Well, that man, the one with all the tattoos, he came in. He told me to stop crying but I wouldn't. I couldn't," He shook his head. "I yelled at him, I tried to hit him. So he punched me and then he did this to me. And then..." He looked down, ashamed. I looked down too and noticed why. The front of his pants, as well as a small part of the ground around him, was wet and smelled vile. Poor kid - he must've been so scared that he'd wet himself. He started crying again, out of embarassment.

"It's alright Mikey, I don't blame you - I probably would've done the same if I'd been concious," I told him in what I hoped was a soothing voice.

"Can you untie me please, Gee? It hurts," He told me.

"Of course," I struggled at the knot holding his arms in place.

It took me a long time, and I nearly ripped three of my fingernails off completely, but I managed to get him free of the ropes. He brought his knees up to his chest and shuddered. I wrapped my arms around him. "Sh," I muttered into his hair. "It'll be okay. It's all gonna be okay."

We both knew that was a lie.