Day 3: "Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon."/Solitary Confinement

Characters: Scott, John

Warnings: kidnapped, beatings, blood

They had been caught out.

Scott was absolutely beside himself. It was his job to keep his brothers safe, and for one minute he had not acted on the sudden feeling in his gut.

A minute was all it took.

Now he was alone. He could do solitary confinement – had done on several occasions – but for one thing.

Solitary meant alone.

Alone meant John was somewhere else.

Whoever had taken them remained in the shadows. All the men were masked and the only thing Scott knew about them was that they were professionals. Military through and through, and that scared Scott more than anything.

He could take what they dished out.

Had done before.

But John…

He waited.

Through the beatings.

Waited for one of them to slip up, make a mistake that would leave him free to find John.

Time passed.

With no windows and minimal light there was no way to keep accurate track of time, but Scott had a good inner clock.

Five days, he reckoned.

Five days with beating but no questions.

Five days without any sign of his brother.

And then there it was.

One beating that left him bloodier than usual. Bloody enough to slip one of his hands out of the restraint. From there it was merely a short wait for the coast to be clear of…obstructions.

It was too easy to get out, Scott knew that, but that wasn't going to hold him back Trap or no trap, he needed to get to John because he knew, he knew, John would be bearing the brunt of the beatings. Everyone knew Scott's history, it was hardly a secret, and that would make John a much more viable target for whatever this was.

His cell opened up into a hallway. There were multiple doors on both sides. Scott paused, listening for any signs of life but he couldn't hear anything. There was nothing for it – he'd have to check every room if he was going to find John.

Each empty room had his heart crying out for his brother, but Scott knew better than to utter a sound. Eventually he began to discern a noise from a room at the very opposite end of the hall from where he had been held. No wonder he hadn't heard anything before.

Sliding the bolt carefully out of the casing, Scott eased the door open and his heart clenched.

John had a cell almost identical to his own, and his brother was on the floor, hands bound in front of him and lying on top of what looked like sacking. In the low light Scott could see the results of beatings, and he crouched down and lay a very gentle hand on John's shoulder. He was rewarded with one swollen eye opening slightly and a small, pained smile. A remote part of himself said he must look that bad too, but he ruthlessly shoved the thought aside.

All that mattered was getting John to safety.

Of course, that was when he was dogpiled.

'Took longer than I expected for you to get here, Tracy. But now you're here you and I have much to talk about.'

'We have nothing to talk about!'

'Oh? Really, I would have thought that you would been ready to share by now.'

'Well you thought wrong.'

'What a pity.'

Even in the low light Scott could see the man was lying – he was enjoying this. But then hands were holding him back as others dragged John away from him.

'Guess I'll just have to ask your brother then.'