Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gordon made his way over to the warehouse on the edge of the docks, where John had informed him that he’d found several lifesigns. Gordon wondered why the group hadn’t evacuated yet, but put it down to them just being scared. The warehouse was still intact when Gordon reached it, so he doubted they were all injured. At least, Gordon was hoping no one was hurt. It always made his job easier when everyone could walk on their own feet.

However, even with the warehouse still in one piece, they were too close to the water. With an earthquake came the impending risk of a tsunami. They were trying to evacuate the area to get everyone clear from the danger zone just in case a tsunami did happen, and even if not, these buildings were likely not very stable anymore.

Gordon found a door and pushed it open, before he stepped into the large building. He ended up in a spacious room with a high ceiling. Despite the vast size of the room, it was filled up, mostly with crates. Gordon wasn’t the only one in there, and he quickly noticed the group he had been looking for.

There were more of them than he had been expecting, and they were dotted throughout the entire room. Gordon opened his mouth to call out to them to make them aware of his presence.

“I’m from International Rescue. You need to-”

The rest of his words died in his throat as he took in more notice of his surroundings. In the centre of the warehouse, there were a few vehicles. A group was loading some crates into the trunks. Gordon couldn’t see what was in the boxes, but as he spoke, everyone in the room whipped their heads towards him.

Each one of them was holding a gun.

Gordon stilled. He didn’t know what exactly was going on here, but he was sure it was illegal. And he was certain it was something he wasn’t meant to see.

He took a couple of steps back, before he spun around and sprinted for the door. He raised his hand towards his comm, but before he could call and alert his brothers, something slammed into his back.

He was thrown to the floor, and the person who had attacked him kept him pinned to the ground. There was a knee on either side of him, keeping his right arm pinned to his hip. His left arm was free, until a fist latched onto his wrist and pinned that to the ground as well. He could feel the press of a gun dig into the back of his skull, warning him to try and get away.

Despite the presence of the weapon, Gordon still tried to struggle. The person on top of him was heavy and strong, and wouldn’t budge an inch.

“Want me to take care of him?” The gruff voice of the man above him spoke to someone Gordon couldn’t see. He tried to crane his neck to see if he could view what was happening above him, but with the gun still pressing down on him, that was proven difficult.

There was a long pause, where Gordon could hear his blood pumping in his ears. He was very likely about to die, and he couldn’t even warn his brothers.

“No.”

Gordon didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified of that reply. If these people weren’t going to kill him, then it was likely because they had something much, much worse planned.

That fear was confirmed barely a second later.

“I think he will be much more useful to us alive.”

The voice that spoke was cool and commanding, like they were the one in charge of this operation. There were footsteps around Gordon, and then something was abruptly placed over his nose and mouth.

The smell of chemicals hit his nostrils immediately and realisation dawned on Gordon. He held his breath to stop himself from breathing in whatever it was, and struggled even more.

He felt a sharp jab to the side, and he involuntarily sucked in a breath. He realised his mistake instantly, but by then it was too late. The chemicals were already making his head spin and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from taking in deep breaths of whatever it was.

It didn’t take long for darkness to pull at the edge of his vision, but he tried his hardest to stay awake. His eyes closed of their own accord, and the last thing he thought of was his family before he was asleep.

Gordon woke to the feeling of being dragged.

He could feel his feet scrape across the floor as his unresponsive body fell limp in whoever was holding him. There were hands harshly holding onto his arms, so strong that Gordon was sure he was going to bruise.

His brain was still fuzzy, but the memory of being drugged was there. He wanted to get up and fight, but his body was still waking up and he couldn’t move.

He managed to get his eyes open, but all he saw was a dimly lit hallway before he was abruptly thrown into a room.

The ground was hard and Gordon only just got his arms to move enough to brace his fall. A door slammed shut behind him, and soon the effects of the chemicals were gone as adrenaline took over.

Gordon scrambled to his feet and threw himself against the door that was now locked tightly shut. There wasn’t even a handle on this side.

“Hey!” Gordon yelled through the thick metal. He banged on the door several times, but there was no sound of those people coming back.

“There’s no point in trying.”

Gordon darted around to see a man sitting in the corner of the room. Gordon hadn’t noticed him before, too panicked about getting locked in here to take in who else could be in the room.

He was leaning against the wall, one arm resting on the bent knee he’d pulled to his chest. He didn’t seem to be as bothered about the situation as Gordon was, but his words were enough to send dread into the pit of Gordon’s stomach.

“There’s no way out.”

Chapter Text

Gordon's heart was beating out of his chest as he took in the man, trying to work out whether or not he should be afraid of being locked in a room with him. However, he hadn't moved from his spot in the corner, but the way he kept his eyes trained on Gordon was still daunting.

"Where am I?" Gordon clenched his fists at his sides to hide how much they were shaking. This was the only person he hadn't been currently cut off from, so he was Gordon's only hope at getting answers.

The man just shrugged, still seeming much less concerned about this situation than Gordon.

"If I knew that, I would have got out of here long ago."

His answer was not what Gordon wanted to hear, but did raise the question as to whether this man was taken here in much the same way as Gordon was. That wouldn't help him get out of here, though.

Gordon's gaze darted around the room to try and find another way out of there. His eyes landed on a doorway to the side of the room, and he hurried towards it.

What met him on the other side was a dingy bathroom that only consisted of a toilet and a sink. There wasn't even a door attached.

Gordon stepped back into the main room, where the other man still hadn't moved. Gordon looked around again, trying to find anything, but there was no other way out. There wasn't a window or anything that indicated to a way outside, except the door he had come in through. Which was locked.

Gordon fell back against the closest wall and dropped to the floor, his heart rate picking up tenfold. It was getting difficult to breathe and he knew he should calm down if he wanted to find a way to get out of this place, but he could only seem to panic more.

His situation was dawning on him now. He had been taken from his family, by people he didn't even know. The thought of his family had his heart aching. They must have realised he was gone, but did they have any idea where he was now? Could they rescue him?

He didn't even know how long it had been. Had he been unconscious for days or just hours? That would help determine how far away he had gotten from the rescue site. He could even still be in that warehouse, but he knew the chances of that were slim.

So, he was far from his family. Locked in a room, with who knew what was to come. He had been taken, and now he was trapped.

He couldn't breathe. He pulled his knees to his chest as he tried to suck in some air, but his throat refused to cooperate.

There was a blur of something in front of him, and Gordon whipped his head up to see what it was.

It was the man from before. He was crouched in front of Gordon, looking apprehensive as he tried to work out what to do.

"It'll be alright," he said reassuringly. "Just breathe."

Gordon was so thrown off by the sincerity in his voice, that his panic was momentarily gone. That allowed him to finally suck in a shaky breath, and as if it had broken the dam, the air now easily came into his lungs.

After a moment, when Gordon's mind became clearer again, he realised that the man was trying to breathe slowly and steadily so Gordon could follow along. He did just that, and as he watched the rise and fall of the other man's chest, his breath soon came back to him.

"Thanks. I'm sorry," Gordon muttered when he felt he could finally speak. He didn't know what had come over him, but he was thankful the stranger was there.

The other man simply nodded and got up to retreat back to where he had been sitting before, which Gordon now realised was a mattress on the floor.

"Don't worry about it. I was the same when I first got here."

Now his head was clearer, Gordon was starting to take in the situation more, and who this man could be.

When Gordon had first gotten to this room, his first thoughts were that this man was a part of the group who had taken him. However, now he was beginning to realise that wasn't the case.

Based on what this man had said, and how he was just as locked in the same room that Gordon was, Gordon was piecing together that he was here just like him. He was a prisoner.

Not only that, this was their cell.

A cell.

Because he had been kidnapped.

He could feel the panic coming back, so before he fell into another panic attack, he distracted himself by his surroundings.

In the corner of the room, opposite to where the man sat, there was another mattress. It looked dirty and dusty, and Gordon was quickly realising he would be expected to sleep on it if he couldn’t get out of there.

Gordon felt a flame spark inside him at the thought. He would not just sit there and accept that this was his fate. He was going to fight and get back to his family.

He stood from where he’d sunk to the ground. For the first time, he noticed that he was no longer in his uniform and had been changed into shorts and a t-shirt. Gordon grimaced at the thought of what else those people could have done to him whilst he was unconscious, but that was something to worry about later.

As he stood, he fixed his gaze on the other man in the room, who was watching him closely.

“Tell me everything you know about this place.”

Instead of replying to him, the man just chuckled as he shook his head, and Gordon scowled. He was being serious, and this man was laughing at him.

“You’re not getting out of here. You might as well just save that energy for what's to come.”

Those words seemed to imply a lot, and Gordon couldn’t help but analyse the man in front of him.

He didn’t look much older than Gordon. He looked quite burly, and when he had stood up he’d seemed tall, but it was clear he was a shell of his former self. His clothes, that were just like the ones Gordon had been issued, hung off his body. His cheeks were sunken, and there were deep bags under his eyes. Upon closer inspection, he had an array of scars running up his arms and legs, and Gordon swallowed deeply.

This man had clearly been through a lot, but Gordon didn’t want that to be his future.

“You can’t just give up!” Gordon tried, but the man didn’t seem interested as he tipped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“Trust me, I’ve tried everything. It’s not worth it.”

Gordon frowned as he mindlessly bit his lip and thought about what else he could try. This man was currently his best hope of getting out of there.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of the door unlocking behind him. Gordon spun around as the door opened, and three men stepped into the room.

One of them had a gun pointed right at Gordon.

“Get to the back wall.” His voice sounded familiar, and Gordon wondered if this was who he had heard what felt like forever ago now. His voice held the same tone of command, and Gordon was even more sure he was the leader here.

He looked tall and lean, and judging by the brawny look of the two other men, it seemed like he got his grunts to do all the hard work whilst he told them what to do.

Even with a gun in his hand, Gordon was not scared of him. He had already said that Gordon was better to them alive than dead, afterall.

“Let me go!” Gordon was not going to just do what they’d asked. If he did that, then he was accepting his fate.

“I said get back.”

When Gordon still refused to comply, the man stepped forward and with a movement too abrupt for Gordon to move away, he pistol-whipped him across the temple.

Gordon fell to the floor and clutched at his head as pain stabbed through his skull. His fingers didn’t feel wet, which meant no blood, but it still hurt a hell of a lot and didn’t rule out a possible concussion.

Whilst he was still dazed on the ground, his vision swimming slightly, the two other men both placed a tray on the ground, and then they all turned and left. Gordon wanted to get up and hurry after them, but he blinked sluggishly, and then they were gone as the door slammed behind them.

“Next time, just do as they say,” the other man in the room said as he reached forward and grabbed a tray.

As Gordon’s vision cleared, he realised it was food, or at least a poor excuse of food. Half a roll of bread, a small plastic cup of water, and a plate of what was possibly porridge, although he didn’t want to get closer to it to check.

The man didn’t seem to be bothered by it as he tucked into the meal. Gordon couldn’t stomach the thought of eating, let alone whatever these people had given him. He wouldn’t trust it not to have been drugged or something.

Instead of eating, Gordon got up from where he had fallen and shuffled over to the other mattress. He hesitantly sat down on it, and was surprised by the softness of it, but it was still a far stretch from a decent amount of comfort.

“You gonna eat that?” The other man had already finished his meal, and was eyeing Gordon’s abandoned portion.

Gordon absentmindedly shook his head as he thought about what he should do now. The man grabbed the other tray as Gordon tried to come up with a plan. He had no idea what to do if this man wouldn’t help him. Even if he did, Gordon didn’t know how much good it would do. His only hope right now was for his family to find him, or for someone to let some information slip about where he was, why he was here, and how he could get home.

Over the sounds of the man breaking into the other half a roll, Gordon started to fret about what was in store for him next, and what would happen if he didn’t get out of there soon.

Chapter Text

Not long after the men had come in with the food, the lights had gone out. Gordon could only assume it was night, but as he didn’t have any idea of how long it had been since he’d been at the docks, he couldn't be sure. His guess was that it was still the same day, which meant that he couldn’t have been terribly far from the rescue site. That would give his family a better chance of finding him.

As the lights switched off and Gordon was plunged into darkness, he curled up on the mattress, but refused to sleep. He didn’t trust the other man in the room with him for a start. He was also too wired to even attempt getting rest. His mind was filled with thoughts of where he was, what his brothers were doing right now, what was going to happen to him if he wasn’t rescued soon.

He had tried to think of how he could escape, but he had nothing. All he remembered was being in that warehouse, and then waking up here. He didn’t have any memory of the journey to try and guess where he could be, or how to get out of there. All he knew was what he had seen down at the docks, and what the men had said.

They must have been a criminal group, importing illegal goods or weapons judging by the crates he had seen. They were not against kidnapping someone, or multiple people at that. Although, Gordon didn’t know how the other man had gotten to be a prisoner. He wondered if he was an innocent victim, or just another one of them.

They had said that they wanted Gordon alive. He couldn’t imagine what for, but the ideas he came up with were not pleasant. Did they want him for information on International Rescue? Gordon had dealt with his fair share of malicious men after the Hood. He knew how much people wanted access to their tech.

Or was it money they wanted? Was Gordon just going to be held for ransom? Honestly, that sounded like one of the better options. He knew his family would pay whatever it took to get him back, and that at least gave him a way home.

There were also the much more dire reasons. Ones that Gordon didn’t want to think about. The possibility that they wanted to use him for their crimes had him feeling sick. They clearly were not against transporting illegal goods, so he couldn’t put humans out of that equation.

So, he spent the whole night wide awake. He didn’t take his eyes off the man across the room from him in case he tried something, but he didn’t think he had anything to worry about there at least. The soft snores that carried across the room indicated that his roommate didn’t share the same worries as him.

However, despite his lack of sleep making the night drag on for an eternity, it was still a shock when the lights suddenly blasted on above him. Gordon blinked until his eyes adjusted to the new light, and the other man grumbled as he rolled over and stretched.

Gordon looked away before the man realised he had been watching him. He could sense the man’s eyes on him a second later, so Gordon looked back over and only caught his gaze for a moment before the man glanced away and got up.

In that brief moment, Gordon thought he saw something in his gaze, like sympathy. He didn’t know why he would be feeling sorry for him if they were both prisoners here. Then again, if that were the case, then he supposed the other man knew just what kind of night he’d just had.

They didn’t say anything to each other as the man walked into the tiny bathroom. After growing up with five brothers, Gordon was used to the lack of privacy, so he reluctantly went in there after the man was finished. He splashed cold water over his face from the tap to wake himself up. He felt tired from the lack of sleep, and possibly the lingering effects from being drugged as well, but he had to stay alert if he had any hope of getting home.

It didn’t seem like much later that the door to their room was opened and more men came inside. This time Gordon didn’t try anything. There was still a bump on his head from the previous day, and although he didn’t think he had anything more than some sore bruises, he didn’t want to get unnecessarily injured. Not if it would affect him getting out of there.

None of the men who entered the room was the leader. Just some grunts, who sent a wave of panic through Gordon when their gazes landed on him and stepped forward.

Two of them grabbed his arms and hauled him up from the mattress he had not long ago sat back down on. He tried to pull out of their grasp, but he caught the gaze of the other prisoner. The look on his face told Gordon to not resist, and although Gordon had no reason to trust the man, he logically knew he should listen. The ache in the side of his face told him enough of what would happen if he tried to fight them.

Gordon told himself that if he was leaving the room, then he could get a better idea of where he was and if he could find a way out. So, he allowed the men to roughly pull him out through the doorway.

The two men on either side of him took him down several hallways, both with hands on his arms. Gordon tried to get a look at his surroundings, but all he was met with were grey walls and a cold stone floor beneath his feet. There were no windows, only a few doors that were shut. Gordon didn’t imagine any of them led outside, but he could hope.

Eventually, he was shoved into another room. Gordon cast his gaze around the room, but it seemed just as dreary and drab as the one he had just come from. However, in this one there were chains hanging from the ceiling.

And standing just beside the chains, was the leader holding a pistol in one hand just like before.

“Take off your shirt,” he said at the same time the door slammed behind Gordon.

Gordon was too stunned and confused by the command that he didn’t comply straight away.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt.” The gun came up to point at him this time, and Gordon felt he had no choice but to do as the man said. Even if he wasn’t shot, he remembered how hard that gun felt against his skull.

Hesitantly, he took off the grey t-shirt he had woken up in the day before. He was glad to take off the less than comfortable fabric, but standing there in a room amongst these men made him feel uncomfortable, and at least the clothes made him feel slightly less exposed.

As soon as the shirt was off, the men who had brought him into the room grabbed him again and started to pull him towards the chains. This time Gordon did struggle, but these men were bigger and stronger than him, and before he knew it, his arms were being pulled above his head and there was a metal clasp around each of his wrists.

Gordon tried to tug against the chains, but they were firmly attached to the ceiling. His attention was then drawn to the leader, who had holstered his gun and approached him. Gordon tried to kick out at the man, but he dodged it and moved just out of his reach.

Good. Gordon didn’t want him close.

“This one’s a fighter,” he muttered in amusement to someone, but Gordon wasn’t sure who.

“What do you want with me?” Gordon growled at him. He wanted the man to know he wasn’t going to go down easily.

Instead of answering, the man started to walk in a circle around him, his eyes glancing up and down Gordon like he was analysing him. Gordon had thought he was uncomfortable before, but that was nothing compared to how he felt now, with this greasy man looking at him like he was some prized possession.

As the man walked behind Gordon, he tried to twist around so that he never let this guy out of his sight. The chains made it awkward, but he managed to track this guy as he completed his circle.

Then, just as reached the same spot he had started in, he abruptly moved forward and landed a fist in Gordon’s stomach.

Gordon doubled over at the sudden pain and coughed as his breath left him. The chains pulled at his arms as he lost his footing for a moment, but he managed to get back on his feet and stand straighter again.

However, he had no time to prepare himself for anything else as he was suddenly surrounded by several men who didn’t hesitate to let him meet their fists.

The punches came from every angle. There was no time to breathe as he was hit in the chest, the face, the back. He felt blood drip from his mouth as he bit his tongue, and soon the only thing keeping him up were the chains that pulled at his wrists. Anytime he tried to find his footing or suck in a breath, another hit came.

Pain hit him everywhere imaginable, and soon his whole body was in agony. It was like it would never end. He felt on the verge of passing out, and wished he would just so that it could be over.

When they were finished with him, they released him from the chains and he crumbled to the floor. He had been forced to get up, put his shirt back on, and trudge back to the room. He'd been too slow to move for their liking, and a kick to the side was what got him to stand back on his wobbly legs.

He was too sore and stiff to put up a fight, and let them lead him back to the room which he'd identified as his cell.

Surprisingly, the other man wasn't in there when Gordon got back. He could only guess that he was getting a similar treatment to what Gordon just experienced.

He was glad for the moment to be alone, to curl up on the old mattress and try to swallow the pain that was burning through his whole body.

He was on his own for a while. At some point, he managed to get up and wash the blood off his face. There was no mirror in the bathroom, so he did the best he could, but he could imagine the array of colours his features were turning. Blue and purple and swollen.

Those men knew what they were doing. Despite how hard the blows had felt, he didn't think they had broken anything, just gave him bruises that were going to be very sore over the next few days. It's like they just wanted to cause pain, not cause any permanent damage, which would further confirm how they wanted him for the long haul. He was no good to them if they put him out of commission so early on.

He must have fallen asleep, the lack of sleep plus the harsh start to the day catching up to him, because one moment he was laying on his bed and the next he was being startled awake as the door clunked open.

Gordon slowly sat up as the other man stumbled into the room. He had a shiner that wasn’t there that morning, and he was rolling one shoulder like he had injured it somehow.

He looked Gordon over as he sat down across from him, and Gordon felt like he was being analysed just like he had been when he was chained up.

"First day's the toughest."

He said it so nonchalantly that Gordon didn't know how to reply, so instead he just pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. He didn't want to deal with this guy acting like this wasn't a horrible, devastating situation to be in. He wanted to be home with his family.

The thought of them had his heart aching. It had been too long. If anyone knew where he was, he would have been rescued by now. He was going to have to start accepting that this was his life now, for who knew how long.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

He had surprised himself with his words. They slipped out before he even realised, but he wasn't going to take them back. They were true. He was meant to save these people, get them out of the danger zone before another earthquake or even a tsunami hit. He was trying to help them, and this is what he got for it.

“Hey,” the man’s voice was soft, and Gordon glanced up to see him looking at him with a sense of comfort. It was a sudden shift of tone from when he walked into the room. “What’s your name?”

“What?” Gordon was both confused and suspicious of the question. He didn’t trust this man yet, and still didn’t know for sure that he wasn’t just a ploy to get information from Gordon.

“We're in this together now. We might as well get to know each other.” He must have caught onto Gordon’s scepticism, as he continued, “I’m Fuse.”

Gordon was so thrown off, he briefly forgot about his worries as a laugh burst out of him.

“Fuse?”

“It’s a nickname.” He sounded oddly defensive as he pouted, and it made him seem the most like an actual person since Gordon had arrived. Before, he was just someone who gave Gordon half answers and didn’t seem to care that Gordon was even there. Now, he sounded truly sincere when he said they were in this together, so Gordon felt comfortable sharing a piece of information with him.

“Sorry.” Gordon could tell Fuse wasn’t actually upset, as his pout had turned into a crooked smile, but he felt he should apologise for laughing even if he still looked at the man in amusement. “I’m Gordon.”

“Well, I would say it's nice to meet you, Gordon, but we both know we would rather be anywhere but here.”

That was most certainly true.

Chapter Text

For the rest of the day, they were left alone. When their meal came, this time Gordon gave in and ate it. He knew he had to stay strong, and he couldn’t do that by letting himself starve. Besides, Fuse at least was still alive after eating the food the night before, so if the food was poisoned, then at least one meal wasn’t going to kill him.

That night, Gordon managed to get some sleep. It wasn’t the most comfortable night, with the mattress he wasn’t used to on top of his injuries that made him unable to move too much, but he still got some rest.

The following day, Gordon woke up prepared to meet whatever torment he would be receiving now, but as the hours passed, no one came into their room.

Things were quiet between him and Fuse. After they had told each other their names the day before, they didn’t say much else and went to bed in silence. It was the same that day, but Gordon decided to break the silence and ask Fuse why no one had shown up like yesterday. If Fuse was being honest about how they were in this together, then he should offer up what information he knew.

Fuse did answer him helpfully this time, and informed Gordon that they usually left him alone every other day so he was able to recover from his injuries before they were back at it again. Gordon didn’t see how you could recover from such injuries in just a day, but he figured that was the point.

It ended up being a long day as Gordon only had the same four walls to look at. He spent the time fretting about what would happen to him next, or how he was going to get back home. He wondered if this was it for him or if there was hope of him getting away.

So many thoughts made themselves at home in his head and without anything else to do, he couldn’t distract himself from them. Not even Fuse was of any help, as he seemed content on trying to catch up on sleep and didn’t seem at all interested in talking to Gordon, beside the piece of information he offered early that day.

However, the time left alone did allow him to rest, and Gordon felt better by the time the following day came. He was still sore and his bruises were a harsh blue and purple, all the way from his face to his shins, but at least he still felt a little less stiff.

The fact that he was feeling slightly better let a thought race through his head. If this was only the start of what was to happen to him, then Gordon knew that if he was hoping to get out, he was going to have to do it now whilst he had the strength. Two days in and he knew it was unlikely he was going to be rescued, so he had to take it upon himself to escape. The quiet time to think let him come up with a plan.

He waited until the guards came and collected him. Gordon didn’t want to think about what they had in store for him today, but if things went to plan, he wouldn’t have to find out.

The men came like he was expecting and this time Gordon didn’t fight them. Whilst he was being harshly escorted through the hallways, he made his move.

He broke out of the men’s grasp, and it was likely due to their surprise that he managed to get out of their strong grip and get away, otherwise he didn’t think it would be so easy.

Without looking back, he ran. He had no clue where he was going, but he knew that if he hesitated or slowed down for even a second, he would be caught.

He could hear pounding feet behind him and yelling as the men shouted at each other to get him. Gordon ran down corridors, and past doors he didn’t care to open in case they led to nowhere and he got cornered.

This building was huge and seemed to go on forever. The stone floors and matching walls made Gordon think he was likely underground, so he knew he had no hope of finding a window or a door that led straight outside. He was going to need to find some stairs.

Gordon turned down another hallway, but his heart sank as he realised it was a deadend. There was no time to turn around.

He spotted a door to his right, so he reached for the handle, but the door didn’t budge. It was locked.

He sent a fearful glance towards the approaching footsteps, and barely had time to look at the burly man right behind him before something smacked into his head and he fell to the floor.

He tried to struggle as arms wrapped around his chest and picked him up. He kicked out and attempted to free himself from the strong man, but then more hands grabbed his ankles to restrain them, and he was dragged back down the hallway.

“Please, just let me go,” he begged the men. They were not in charge here and maybe he could appeal to them. Surely there was someone here who knew this wasn’t right.

However, his attempts to get away were futile, and eventually he felt himself be harshly thrown to the floor.

He didn’t have time to register where he was before the blows came.

A boot met his head to stop his attempt at getting up. He felt several more land against his chest and knock the breath out of him. Over and over, he was kicked and stepped on. He tried to protect his head with his arms as heavy boots rained down on him and his already sore body, but they didn’t provide much protection.

This was much worse than the beating he’d received before, because he was already so hurt. Cuts formed where there were already bruises, and blood splattered across the floor as existing wounds were reopened.

Thankfully, he had no idea how long the beating went on for as at some point, when the pain grew too much for his body to bear, he fell into a blissful unconsciousness.

When Gordon next woke up, his body was on so much fire that he couldn't even move. His breaths came out as wheezes, and he was questioning whether breathing was even important at this point as it hurt so much to do so. He only managed to move his eyes to look around where he was now.

He surprisingly wasn't back in his room with Fuse. It was another room, much smaller and there didn't appear to be anything around, but he couldn’t be sure as the room was completely dark. It wouldn’t be surprising to find another door with a missing handle on this side, but it hurt just to blink. He couldn’t stomach the idea of getting up to check.

The ground was hard beneath him and he realised he wasn't on a mattress this time. He found that he didn't really care, as he was hurting all over and supposed that it wouldn't make him feel any better.

It didn't take long until he felt exhaustion pull at him and he drifted off once more.

Days passed. He thought that was how long he spent in that tiny room. He drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain never going away except when he was asleep, but even then it tormented him as the memory of being beaten filled his dreams and rocked him awake.

No one ever came into his room. Not to give him food or water. He didn't think he could stomach anything anyway, and preferred to just sleep.

He was left in darkness so couldn't track the days, but it definitely felt like a while had passed. Eventually, he was able to drag himself to sit up against the wall. It didn't make him feel much better, but at least he was able to stay awake for a bit and get more alert.

However, the endless darkness played tricks on his eyes. The shadows danced and he thought he saw figures in the corner of the room, but whenever he blinked, they disappeared again. Sometimes, sleep was just easier to get away from the tricks of his mind.

It was so quiet.

Gordon wasn't used to quiet.

He had always been around people. Mostly his family, and with a family as big as theirs, there was hardly ever peace.

Gordon found his peace sitting on the beach, listening to the waves crashing on the shore, or when he was at the depths of the ocean.

But peace was not the same as quiet. Even when he was at the bottom of the ocean, he always had a brother in his ear ready to talk. When he was on the beach, he had the waves to listen to.

He didn't know this kind of silence. There was no one to talk to. There wasn't even a sound that came from the hallway. Nothing.

What he did know was that his beating was only part of his punishment for attempting to escape. This unusual quietness and eerie darkness was almost as bad as the pain that hit him down to his bones.

On what he felt was the fourth day in his solitary confinement, although he could never be sure, he was just drifting off to sleep again when he was abruptly awoken by the lights harshly turning on.

Gordon blinked, his eyes adjusting to the blinding light, and the door opened for the first time in a while.

Several men walked in. Gordon was used to the lack of greetings, and they said nothing before they grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

Gordon could barely stand, and they practically dragged him back through the hallways as his feet kept slipping out from under him.

It was surprisingly a relief when he was thrown back into his usual cell. He would rather be anywhere else, but at least they hadn't taken him to be chained up again, and he also wasn't on his own in the quiet darkness any more.

Fuse was there, sitting where he usually was, not that there was anywhere else to be. He didn't seem to react as Gordon was tossed to the floor, and Gordon wasn't surprised he didn't offer a hand as Gordon picked himself up and dragged himself over to his bed.

He dropped onto the mattress with a huff and curled up on his side. The pain he had been feeling a few days ago had relented a bit, but he still felt the throbbing whenever he moved.

"Told you it was pointless. There's no escape."

The retort was useless and didn't help Gordon in any way. He was already paying for his mistakes. He didn't need the man's arrogance on top of it.

To ignore him, Gordon closed his eyes and curled up tighter as he wrapped his arms around his sore chest.

He was expecting Fuse to continue, but he went quiet after that. Gordon's ears were met with the sound of the man shuffling about. He was content to ignore him, but curiosity got the better of him and he peeked an eye open to see what the man was up to.

Fuse had pulled something out from under his mattress, but he disappeared into the bathroom before Gordon could see what it was. He heard the tap running, and then Fuse reappeared.

"Sit up."

Gordon blinked up at him in confusion, but did as he said as the man gestured for him to get up.

Gordon pushed himself up to lean against the wall and Fuse came to sit on the mattress next to him. It was then that Gordon realised that what he had in his hand was a wet cloth.

Fuse raised the cloth to his face, but hesitated like he was unsure of what to do. Gordon watched him, until eventually the cool, wet material hit his face.

Fuse seemed awkward as he dabbed the cloth over his cuts, and wiped dried blood away that Gordon hadn't gotten a chance to clean yet. Gordon could tell he seemed uncomfortable, like hadn't done this before, so he decided to break the awkward silence.

"Where did, uh, you get that from?" Gordon gestured to the piece of material in his hand.

"After a while they give me new clothes, so I keep the old ones for bandages and stuff." He seemed to relax a bit as he spoke, but Gordon was caught on the implications of his words.

Not only had he been in there long enough to get a change of clothes, but also long enough to know that he needed to keep the spares to take care of himself.

As Fuse continued to dab at his face, Gordon's mind wandered to what that meant for him. There was no escape. He had tried and failed. He presumed Fuse had tried too, possibly even multiple times. Fuse had been stuck here for a while with no hope of getting out, which meant Gordon was stuck just like him. Stuck in a cell where there was nothing but torment and endless pain.

"Why are they doing this?" He couldn't help but mutter.

Fuse paused for a long moment and didn't say anything, and Gordon worried that he may have upset him or caused him to get annoyed with all the questions. But then a few moments later, he resumed wiping at the blood on Gordon's temple.

"Honestly, I don't know. I have a theory, which is that they're trying to wear us down enough to get us to join their crew, but in all my time here I’m still not entirely sure if that's right."

"Why not just make us join?" Gordon wondered out loud. He really didn’t like the idea of working for these guys, and couldn’t believe they would even try and get him on their side. "They wouldn't have to go through all of this." He gestured to nothing in particular as he waved one hand around, the other against his hurting ribs.

"Guess there's no worry about us turning on them or running away once they've beaten our spirits down. It’s either that, or they’re just doing it for fun." He shrugged as he dropped the cloth from Gordon's face and leant back.

The tender bruises on Gordon's face felt better after the cool cloth, and he didn't have the feeling of dried blood caked on his face either.

"Get some rest whilst you still can." Fuse seemed thankful to stand back up and retreat back to his corner of the room, but Gordon was thankful for what he did even if it was out of his comfort zone. "Oh, and I saved you this."

He leant down and picked up a small cup of water, like what they were given with their daily meal.

He held it out to Gordon. It took Gordon a moment until he reached out to take it, too surprised by the fact that Fuse had saved it for him instead of understandably taking it for himself.

Gordon wasn't aware of how thirsty he was after not having anything to drink for days, until he felt the cool water on his throat. The drink was gone instantly.

"Thank you, Fuse," Gordon muttered as he put the plastic cup down and laid his head back down on the mattress.

Fuse paused and turned to him with a look of surprise, but after a moment his features relaxed and he offered Gordon a soft smile.

Gordon sent one back as he closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

The following days were all the same. He would be taken from the room and tortured until the pain became too much to bear and he was on the verge of passing out. Then, he would be taken back to his room with Fuse and left there to recover, until he was made to follow the men to wherever he would be forced to endure pain next.

He tried to come up with a plan of escape, but it was getting difficult to form anything. His mind flittered between each session of torment, and he was beginning to lose track of anything that could help them get away.

He still remembered his punishment for trying such a thing.

The days had begun to blur together. The only things he could concentrate on to track the passing of time was the pain, the meal they received everyday, and the lights switching off at night.

Fuse was also taken from the room like Gordon was, but they never went the same way, and it wasn’t usual that they were taken at the same time either. Gordon would often find the room empty when he got back, or Fuse would be taken long before anyone came for Gordon.

He wasn’t sure what that tactic was. Maybe the men just wanted to create dread when they showed up, as neither of them knew who was going to be tortured first, or how, and that uncertainty was almost as bad as the pain they inevitably were forced to experience.

Gordon could only imagine what pain Fuse was being put through as well, but it became a silent agreement between them not to talk about it. Their time together was their moment to get away from the torment, there was no point in bringing it up.

No matter what they did to either of them, their methods were all the same; made to hurt, but not cause much lasting damage. They never broke a bone or cut deep enough for him to bleed out. They didn’t seem to care if he was left conscious or able to stand afterwards, just that he could bounce back enough for them to break him down again.

On one day, Gordon had been taken back to the first room he had been beaten in. When he saw the chains on the ceiling, he thought he was going to be forced to be a punching bag again, but stilled at the sight of the whip in one of the men’s hands.

There had been no escape from the harsh end of the whip as it was beaten against his back over and over again. Gordon had soon lost the ability to stand on his feet as the pain got worse with each lash. There was nowhere to go. He couldn’t curl up against the pain, so his back was just left exposed to the leather that he could feel cut into his skin.

He wasn’t quite unconscious when they were done, but his arms were numb from holding him up and his legs wouldn’t work as all he could feel was the pain raging across his back.

He couldn’t get himself up from the ground, even as they tried to force him up by planting a boot into his side. In the end, they just grabbed him under the arms and dragged him back, his eyes half-lidded as they did so.

He remembered being thrown to the floor, but didn’t remember getting himself to his bed. Which is why he was surprised when he next woke up on the mattress.

He looked over to Fuse, who didn't seem to notice Gordon’s staring as he wiped at some blood on his own leg. Or rather, he just pretended to not notice, but Gordon still had a suspicion of what he’d done, and weakly smiled before he drifted off again.

Another time, a few days after, Gordon had been on the sharp end of a knife as opposed to a whip this time, but he didn’t know what was better. They were both painful in their own way.

He had been tied to a chair as one man circled around him, slicing him with the knife every now and then. Gordon had quickly learnt to keep his mouth shut after he’d tried to make a quip at the man, only to be cut harshly across the abdomen.

These people preferred silence from him. Unless it was his screams of pain. That they seemed fine with.

Later in the cell, Fuse had given him some of the pieces of fabric to clean up his wounds. He had a piece of the old shirt pressed against a cut on his arm that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Gordon didn’t think it would need stitches, but he was worried at how the bleeding hadn’t stopped yet.

He tried to tie a long strip of the makeshift bandage around his bicep, but it was hard with just one hand, not to mention the pain he still felt in his back which restricted his movements.

Fuse seemed to notice this, as he got up from his bed and came to sit next to Gordon.

“Here, let me.”

Gordon let the man take over. Fuse didn’t seem so hesitant this time, and instead had a look of concentration on his face as he tried to tie the strip of fabric around Gordon’s arm.

The look on his face reminded Gordon of Virgil when he helped Gordon after he had been stupid and gotten himself hurt, which sent a pang of pain through his chest and he tried to push the memory away.

He missed his family so much. It had been at least a week, maybe more, since he’d last seen them. They must have been so worried wondering where he was and if he was okay.

He just wanted to be home.

Gordon couldn’t let himself get lost in his thoughts. Remembering his family gave him the motivation to keep going and stay strong, but delving into those thoughts too much… that just left him spiralling into a pit that he didn’t think he could get out of.

He tried to concentrate on something else, and turned to the man next to him. Fuse had sat back and was looking over his work. It wasn’t perfect, and Gordon feared that it would only take a bit of movement to make the fabric fall off, but the makeshift bandage was putting a stop to the bleeding. It was the best they could do without an actual first aid kit.

“Hey, Fuse?” Gordon decided to strike up a conversation with the man to distract himself. He realised that he still didn’t know much more about the man than his name, even though they had known each other for little while now.

“Hmm?” Fuse grunted in response as he fiddled with the bandage to check it was tight enough.

“How did you end up here?”

Fuse seemed surprised at that question, and Gordon thought he had upset him when the man sat back and withdrew his hands.

“Why’re you asking?” The expression on his face didn’t indicate he was mad, just curious at the sudden question.

Gordon shrugged, but winced as the movement pulled at his wounds.

“Weren’t you the one who said we ought to get to know each other? It’s not like there’s much else to do here.”

“I-” Fuse hesitated, and turned away. Gordon was about to tell him that he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, but the man continued before he could. “I did some bad stuff, and got on the wrong side of too many people. I always thought I got away with it, until I messed with the wrong person and got tossed in here as punishment.”

“What… kind of bad stuff?” Gordon tentatively probed. Fuse had seemed like a nice person, and he didn’t come across as someone who was a criminal. Not with how he had calmed Gordon down on his first day here, or how he had helped him with his injuries.

“Stealing, mostly. Not from anyone who didn’t deserve it!” He quickly added, and waved his hands to wipe out any concerns that Gordon had of sharing a cell with someone who could be just as bad as the men torturing them. “Only from bad men who hurt innocent people for nothing but fun and their own gain. I was careful, but then I just had to go and pick this crew as my next target.”

Gordon perked up at those words and sat up straighter.

“Wait, so you know about this crew? Do you know anything that could help us get away?”

When Fuse shook his head, Gordon deflated.

“All I know is that they import weapons to sell to other crews. I thought that if I could shut their operation down, then I could put a stop to them and all the criminals they help, and the harm they do to others. But I was an idiot, and didn’t realise just how deep this operation went. I got caught, and was thankful they didn’t kill me right there on the spot.” He laughed bitterly. “Not sure this is much better to be honest.”

Gordon thought back to when he had first encountered this crew and thought they were going to kill him. He also wasn’t sure this was a better life to live, but at least this way his brothers didn’t have to find his body in that warehouse. And he still had a chance to get back to them, however slim that was.

“How about you, anyway?” Fuse swallowed and switched the attention from him and onto Gordon, presumably happy to not have to reflect on his past any longer. “You don’t seem like someone who would mess with this crowd.”

Gordon supposed he wasn't wrong there, but didn't think it was so obvious. Then again, he saved people for a living. A job like his couldn't be any farther from this world.

He remembered back to that rescue that was supposed to end with him heading home to a warm shower and a relaxing dip in the pool, not with him being kidnapped. Maybe it wasn't as far as he thought.

“Wrong place, wrong time I guess.”

Fuse didn’t ask him to elaborate as he nodded in understanding. They went quiet for a moment, but Gordon still had a burning question he needed to ask.

“How long have you been here?”

Fuse seemed very thoughtful about that question, and Gordon sensed a sinking feeling of dread. If Fuse didn’t know, then Gordon doubted it was a short stay.

“What month is it?” Fuse eventually said.

“May, as far as I’m aware.” Gordon wasn’t sure on the date himself, but what he was sure of was the fact that a month hadn’t passed yet.

“Huh.” Fuse seemed surprised at that, but shrugged nonchalantly. “Then I guess it’s been almost a year.”

“A year?” Gordon blanched. He knew the man had to have been there a while, given how some of his wounds had healed over and turned to scars, but the idea of spending a whole year in this place… Gordon had barely dealt with the past week.

Fuse didn’t seem bothered by that fact, like he had long gotten used to the idea that this was possibly his life now.

“You get used to it, I guess. Hey, if they haven’t beaten me down to join them yet, then I don’t think they ever will.” He winked at Gordon as he stood, the conversation coming to an end as he’d finished bandaging Gordon’s arm long ago.

Gordon couldn't shake it off as easily as the other man. Fear started to latch onto him at the thought of being stuck here for a year, or even longer. If an escape was possible, then Fuse would have probably gotten out of there a while ago.

Gordon tried to cling onto the thought that Fuse probably didn’t have a family like his, who would move heaven and earth to get to him. And if they couldn’t find him, then at least they had a better chance of escaping if there were two of them coming up with a plan.

Chapter Text

Gordon pulled his knees up to his chest as a shiver ran through his body. Fuse was in a similar position across the room, huddled on his mattress and making the burly man seem small.

They knew it had seemed odd when a couple days passed without anyone entering their room, only to bring them their food. The two of them had waited with bated breaths wondering what torment would come for them, but they were left alone.

Gordon even dared to think that maybe they had decided to give them a few days off as opposed to just the one to recover, but those thoughts didn't hang around long.

He first noticed something was up when his toes started to feel cold. Despite the concrete floors and walls, it was a pretty decent temperature in their cell and he had yet to feel the chill, even in just his shorts and t-shirt and with no blanket to sleep under.

So, the feeling had him raising an eyebrow, but then a sinking thought overcame him as it quickly dawned on him.

Fuse seemed to notice it too as he shivered, and then frowned as he looked over at Gordon. Gordon sent him a look back as they both came to the same realisation.

The temperature only seemed to drop as the day continued into the night. They had nothing to keep them warm besides the simple clothes on their bodies. At some point, Gordon was sure he could see his breath.

The cold made it impossible to sleep, and they hadn’t even bothered to turn their lights out tonight, like that was their intention. Gordon was sure it was night even with the lights still on, as his body had fallen into the routine that he had been forced to follow here and he was feeling tired, even if he couldn’t sleep.

“S-somehow, they have not tried this before,” Fuse mumbled from his corner, which would have made Gordon raise an eyebrow if it wasn’t too cold to move. Then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised that people like these could keep coming up with new ways to break them down.

“We j-just need to make it through the n-night,” Gordon muttered into his knees, his teeth chattering. He buried his face into his legs to warm his nose that he could feel getting numb.

He really hoped that this wasn’t a permanent feature to their cell. If they kept this up, then the two of them could die from hypothermia. Gordon doubted that was their plan, as they had kept them alive this long for a reason.

“I s-suppose we should find something to distract ourselves.” Fuse paused to think about what that something could be.

Gordon certainly couldn’t think of anything. There was nothing to do in that room except talking or waiting for their next punishment. Fuse seemed to come to this same conclusion as he turned to Gordon. Talking it was.

“You h-have anyone waiting for you on the outside?”

Gordon was slightly surprised by the question. Fuse seemed to avoid any mention of getting out of there and what was waiting for them if they did get out. But Gordon wouldn’t push away the chance to think about his family when they brought him so much comfort in a time like this.

“Yeah.” Gordon smiled as he pictured his family when he last saw them.

His brothers had been with him on that rescue, but the morning before it they had been sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast. John had come down to join them, which he had done a lot more recently, since their dad had come home. They had all been together.

Their dad. The reminder that he was actually home had Gordon completely forgetting the cold as he smiled wider. He felt the thoughts pressing at his mind that his dad was home, but now Gordon wasn’t. He was the one who was missing, and he may not get home like their dad had.

But he couldn’t let himself think like that. If he and his brothers had managed to find their dad in the deep depths of the solar system, then Gordon believed his family could find him wherever he was in the world right now.

“My brothers,” Gordon continued. “They’ll be searching for me.”

Fuse nodded, but seemed to go quiet as he shivered some more, and Gordon wondered if what he’d said had brought up something for the man.

“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” Gordon asked, curious as to what Fuse could be thinking.

“Just a sister, but she probably thinks I’m dead now anyway,” he said absentmindedly, like his thoughts were somewhere else, and Gordon was stunned by his blunt words.

“She might not. Maybe she’s looking for you?” Gordon suggested. He didn’t want Fuse to give up, because if he did then what was stopping him from joining that crew? He needed to keep the man hopeful. “Even if she’s not, my brothers will find us and help you-”

“No one is coming!” Fuse snapped, and Gordon shut his mouth in shock at the sudden anger. “Just give it up already. If anyone was going to come, they would have already. You’re not helping either of us by still believing you’ll get out of here.”

“But-” Gordon tried to interject, but Fuse dropped onto his side on the mattress and turned to face the wall, his back to Gordon. It was a clear sign that the conversation was over, and Gordon should just drop his attempts to speak to the man.

The cold suddenly hit him again as the warmth his family brought disappeared, and Gordon was met with the freezing reality that maybe Fuse was right. Maybe no one was coming.

He pulled his knees even closer as he shivered. He could feel tears brimming in his eyes, which he squeezed shut to block out the daunting thoughts, but he couldn't escape them. Just like how he couldn’t escape this prison.

Chapter Text

It was safe to say that Gordon didn't get any sleep the night before. Despite how quiet Fuse was, Gordon didn't think he got to sleep either, if the way he was curled up into a shivering ball was any indication. The room did not get any warmer throughout the night, however Gordon didn't think it got any colder after a certain time. Not that it mattered, as he was sure it reached below freezing and that was certainly cold enough.

At some point, when it was close to morning, Gordon's exhaustion almost managed to make him forget the cold and pull him to sleep. However, he supposed it was a good thing when he was shocked awake from his near-sleep by the door opening, as falling asleep in a freezing room could have turned into something bad. The cold was deep in his bones by that point, and Gordon was sure it wouldn't take long for something severe to happen.

As the clunky door was pushed open, Gordon sat up straight and blinked over at who was coming into their room, his joints half-asleep from the cold. He barely had time to register the guards before he was pulled to his numb feet. Fuse was grabbed too, which made Gordon even more alert, as they were never usually taken from the room at the same time.

He couldn't see where Fuse went as Gordon was dragged in another direction. The hallway outside of their room was much warmer, and Gordon almost wasn't worried about where he was being taken today if it meant he could get out of that freezing cold room.

As he walked, the feeling returned to his toes and fingers, but he knew it would take a while to get completely warmed up again. And that wasn't taking into consideration whatever torment would meet them next, which Gordon doubted was going to be a cosy room filled with blankets.

When he was brought to a room, it was one he hadn't seen before. There was a flat, wooden table in the centre with straps attached to the sides, and Gordon instantly had an idea of what was going to happen.

He tried to struggle away, like he always did, but he was never successful and he knew his chances of success were dwindling. He felt himself growing weaker each day, and it was getting even harder to try and fight these guys off.

It was made even worse now when exhaustion pulled at him and his limbs felt stiff from the cold. He wondered if the sleep deprivation was intentional for today’s events, or it was just an extra load of torment to go with whatever was going to happen here.

One of the men behind Gordon twisted his arms behind his back, and forced him forwards and onto the table. They manhandled him on top of it, grabbing his arms and legs and lifting him on top. They pinned him down on his back, and got the straps around his wrists and ankles before he could stop them. The harsh surface of the table dug into his healing wounds, and Gordon doubted that discomfort was all the torture he was going to receive today.

He pulled at the straps, but they were secured tightly and wouldn't budge. His chest heaved as he tried to prepare himself for whatever was to come next. No matter how much he went through this, day after day of torment, he would never get used to it.

After he was strapped down, the men stepped away, and Gordon tried to watch what they were doing. There were three of them, but two left the room, leaving only one man who stood at the edge of the room, just outside Gordon's vision. He couldn't see what the man was up to, but he didn't sound like he was doing anything, like he was just standing there.

Gordon thought that he might be waiting for someone to enter the room, or for something else, which had him worried for what that something could possibly be.

A few agonisingly long moments passed, and Gordon was close to saying something just to try and keep himself calm, whilst maybe also getting a piece of information out of the man. However, when he almost couldn't take the torment any longer, he heard a voice.

"It's been a while since we last saw each other."

Gordon frowned at the voice. It sounded familiar, and he quickly realised it was the leader of this crew. He hadn't seen the man that much, as most of his torture came from the grunts, but Gordon got the feeling the man wasn’t talking to him. The voice sounded strange, like he wasn't in the same room as him. It sounded like it was coming through a speaker.

"You've been here a long time, Fuse."

The pieces clicked together. The man wasn’t speaking to Gordon, he was talking to Fuse. He had been taken to a separate room, a room which must have a mic that was connected to a speaker in this room. Gordon wondered why he was being subjected to their conversation, but he didn’t want to find out.

“I’m sure you would like for this torment to come to an end. I can make that happen.”

“You wish.” Gordon finally heard the other man speak, and he wondered if Fuse knew that he could hear him.

“Do I? I’ve actually been having a lot of fun making you and your little friend suffer. I just thought that I should let you know the offer is on the table.”

Gordon felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of him, and he swallowed thickly.

“Speaking of your friend, I’m sure he would like to not have to suffer either, which you can put a stop to as well.”

The blood rushed in Gordon’s ears, making it almost impossible to hear what was said next. If he wasn’t beginning to panic, it would register to him that Fuse was right about why they were being kept there.

“Join my crew, and I won’t hurt him.”

“No.”

The response came almost instantly. Gordon couldn’t be upset with Fuse’s decision, as he wouldn’t want the man giving in because of him. However, he didn’t have much time to process it before the man who had been silently waiting in the corner of the room stepped forward.

A searing pain hit his side as electricity crackled, and he couldn’t help but let out a choked cry that escaped him from the sudden pain. He coughed and blinked blearily over at the man to find he had a cattle prod in his hand.

“Gordon!” Fuse must have heard him, which meant that he had also caught up to what was going on.

“I’m fine,” Gordon managed to say after he’d gotten his breath back, but it wasn't even a second later before the pain hit him again in the same spot, and he cried out involuntarily.

“Remember, you can make it stop,” the crew leader’s voice came through the speaker.

The hesitance on Fuse’s end had Gordon worried that he was going to give in, and he wanted to tell him not to, but before he could even open his mouth, he was hit by the cattle prod again.

And again.

And again.

Over and over, he felt the burn of the electricity across his skin as he was hit by the device all over his body. He clenched his teeth to try and contain his screams, his back arching against the table as he pulled against his restraints.

Every time, the device was held against him for even longer than before, and eventually he could no longer contain the scream when he felt pain pierce through him as the cattle prod was held against a fresh cut that had yet to heal. His vision doubled and he cried out, but quickly bit down on his cheek to shut himself up.

“Fuse?” The leader sounded calm as he regarded the man he was with.

“F-Fuse-” Gordon panted as the device was withdrawn for a moment. He had to speak before Fuse made a decision he would regret. “Don’t-”

His words were cut off by the agonising fire that hit his throat, and a gargled, painful sob escaped him as the metal prongs were forced against his neck.

He couldn’t breathe, and black spots danced around his vision, until he was finally able to draw in a wheeze when the device was removed once more.

He coughed painfully, each gasp sending daggers through his throat and chest. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, but he had to hold out for Fuse’s sake.

“Last chance,” the man on the speaker sounded like he was growing impatient, which Gordon hoped was a good thing for him. It would mean this agony would be over soon.

It was silent aside from Gordon’s heavy breaths as they waited for Fuse’s answer. When the man did eventually speak, his voice was filled with guilt.

“I won’t join your crew.”

The last thing Gordon heard was Fuse muttering an apology to him before the electricity hit his abdomen, and the cattle prod was held there until Gordon eventually passed out.

He woke up in their cell, and he didn’t think he would ever get used to the relief that gave him. It meant that the torture was over with for now.

He ached all over, but distinctly realised that their room was almost back to the original temperature. At least he thought it was, but he could always have just been burning up from the torment he’d just endured.

He looked over at the other side of the room, but was surprised to find there was no sign of Fuse. Gordon had no idea how long he had been unconscious for, and worried that maybe after he’d passed out Fuse had given into them. That might have been why Gordon was back in the room now.

Gordon pushed himself up on wobbly limbs to sit up and face the door, biting back a scream as fried nerves made themselves known. He didn’t believe that Fuse would give up, and he expected the man to come through that door any moment now. He just had to wait.

He wasn’t disappointed, and it wasn’t even thirty minutes later before the door was unlocked and Fuse was forced inside.

He looked almost as bad as Gordon was feeling. It was clear they had done a number on him after he’d refused their offer, as his face was black and blue and he was holding one arm to his chest tightly.

He seemed to visibly relax when he saw Gordon, which was also how Gordon felt when he saw that Fuse hadn’t given into them just yet.

“Are you okay? I had no clue what they were doing, and I was imagining the worst,” Fuse rambled as he moved like he was going to come to Gordon’s side, but thought against it as the movement made him wince.

“I’m fine.”

The way his voice came out raspy and gravelly, and how speaking made him cough, may have made him not seem as fine as he was attempting to make out to be. It was also really painful to talk, but Fuse didn’t need to know that.

Fuse sent him a knowing look, just like Gordon’s brothers did when he tried to brush off an injury, and Gordon wasn’t a fan of the scrutinising frown.

“Really.” A cough, and he paused as he tried to swallow the ache in his throat. “It’s not the worst I’ve had here.” Gordon was sure that was at least true.

At that, a guilty look washed over Fuse’s face and he tentatively sat down on his own bed. He grimaced as he pulled his arm closer to his side, but quickly wiped the expression away as he spoke again, his words coming off as a string of rambling.

“I’m really sorry. I could have put a stop to it, but I was being so selfish. I was only thinking of myself. I should have just-”

“Do you know,” he coughed, “how much more upset I would be if you had given into them.” Another pause as he took a breath. “Knowing it was because of me?” Gordon cut the man off before he could be lost in his guilt. He coughed a few times after he had finished, which somehow had Fuse looking even more guilty.

Gordon analysed the man further. Fuse was hunched over and he still had an arm held to his chest, and Gordon soon realised the body language was more than just because he was feeling at fault. He had dealt with this before way too many times with his brothers. He could see when someone was trying to hide an injury, partially because he was good at doing that himself.

“Are you hurt?”

Fuse looked over at him in surprise, and looked ready to deny it, but Gordon looked pointedly at his arm. Fuse swallowed, and the guilty looks just kept coming.

“After they were… done with you, they had some fun left for me. At some point, one of them twisted my arm behind my back. I felt something pop,” Fuse reluctantly admitted, and Gordon winced. Dislocations were never any fun.

“I can reset it for you?” Gordon phrased it like an offer, but he was going to help the man no matter what. He wouldn’t let Fuse suffer or cause further damage when he knew he could make it better.

“You don’t have to-” Fuse started, but Gordon was already pushing himself up.

His legs didn’t want to cooperate and he staggered as he stood. He briefly saw stars, but he made it across the short distance without collapsing.

“You really don’t need to. I’ll be fine, you should rest,” Fuse tried, but Gordon had already flopped down next to him.

“Let me see.” Gordon held out his arms, thankful they were one spot the cattle prod didn’t hit him, and Fuse slowly uncurled himself and let Gordon take his injured arm into his hands.

Gordon checked just to make sure it was a dislocation, and when he confirmed it was, he moved Fuse’s arm into position.

“This isn’t going to be nice,” Gordon informed him, even though that was likely obvious.

“Just get it over with,” Fuse said as he looked away and closed his eyes to steel himself.

Rather than prolong it, Gordon tried to reset the shoulder as swiftly and as smoothly as he could. Fuse flinched at the same time Gordon heard the pop of the bones moving back into place, and then the man relaxed as the pain lessened slightly.

“Better?” Gordon asked the man, who nodded. Although, he still seemed withdrawn, and Gordon suspected he was hiding something else. “What is it?”

“You should be hating me, not helping me,” he mumbled.

“Hey, what happened to being in this together?” Gordon smiled reassuringly at the man, who seemed to relax just slightly. Gordon truly was not upset that Fuse was protecting himself from those men, it just sucked that Gordon was in the crossfire.

Whilst they were airing their worries, Gordon thought about what had been weighing him down all night.

“Um, about yesterday and your sister…” Gordon started, trying to work out how to phrase what he was going to say next.

“I’m sorry,” Fuse beat him to it. “I shouldn’t have snapped, sleep deprivation will do that to you I guess.” He chuckled, but then seemed to sober up as he took a breath. “I was just upset because, like you, I used to think that she would come and rescue me. She was my partner and helped me with my… operation. She had told me that coming after these guys was a bad idea, but I didn’t listen to her. She probably did assume they just killed me and disposed of my body somewhere. She had no reason to come and look for me, but I still hoped. The fact she never came just made this place feel even worse.”

“No, that’s not it.” Gordon shook his head, and Fuse looked over at him in confusion. “Maybe you’re right. I should stop thinking that my brothers will come for me. There's no way they know where I am. It’s been weeks and nothing has happened.”

It hurt his heart to admit it, but Gordon knew it was right. He had to let them go.

It was something he had thought about all night after Fuse had stopped talking to him. He realistically knew they had no hope of finding him, he just kept telling himself that they would so he wouldn’t go completely insane. That was just wishful thinking, and if he was going to survive in here, he needed to be more realistic.

“Don’t say that.” Fuse twisted with a wince so he could face Gordon fully, and grasped Gordon’s upper arm with his one working hand. Gordon was stunned by the movement. “I didn’t give into those guys because I thought about what you said. We need to have hope that we will get out of here. And we will, I know it.”

Gordon was shocked by the sudden fire in the man’s eyes. Fuse had previously dismissed any attempt he had made at trying to get him to believe they could get out of there, whether that be by rescue or escape. Seeing his attitude so different made Gordon’s second guessing nonexistent.

“You’re right.” Gordon nodded, wondering why he ever had doubts. This place was affecting him more than he realised.

“Of course I am, because it's what you taught me.” He smiled, and then pulled away. “You should really rest, though. Your voice still sounds awful.”

Gordon snorted, and as if on cue, was forced into a painful coughing fit. He glared at the told-you-so look Fuse was sending him, but listened to him just like he would if he was any of Gordon’s brothers. It felt odd to joke around in this kind of situation, and he knew it wouldn't last long. But it was nice to find a bit of a lifeline in a place of endless torment. It seemed, Fuse was affecting him more than he realised as well.

Gordon limped his way back to his bed, his body feeling even more sore the longer he was awake. He promptly collapsed onto his front on the mattress, and gave into the sleep that he had missed out on the night before, hoping the rest would do him good.

Chapter Text

Gordon gasped as the cloth was pulled from his face. Water spurted from his nose and mouth as he took in gulps of air. He had only just managed to get in a lungful of air before the cloth was back over his face and he couldn’t breathe again.

Cold water burned his nostrils and throat, and he involuntarily swallowed. He choked and gasped, but no air got in. His lungs were on fire.

The ordeal went on for a while. The cloth was removed just long enough for him to choke on air, before it was back again. Gordon didn’t know if they were shortening the moments of respite, or it just felt that way to him the longer it went on.

His vision was starting to fade.

He didn’t know how long he could last.

He felt pain all over.

Pain was all he knew now.

It had been weeks. He’d lost grip of time. His first wounds had healed and new ones had taken their place.

His hopes of being rescued had dwindled. He knew he couldn’t let it get him down. The threads of hope that he’d get out of there was the only thing that kept him going. He would see his brothers again.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Fuse didn’t let him give up.

Gordon really tried not to. It was hard when that hope was beaten out of him each and every day by fists and chains, but he clung to it like a lifeline. He couldn’t let himself slip away.

Slipping, into the darkness that filled this place and threatened to consume his mind until it was all he knew.

He came to with a gasp.

He must have passed out. He choked and coughed up water as he sat up in his seat. His chest heaved, and water dripped down his face and off his chin. He couldn’t even be sure there weren’t tears mixed in with it.

After his vision had cleared, he lifted his head to see the men responsible for his torment laughing, in a stifled way like they were trying to hide it. Gordon heard it, and it echoed in his skull as they tipped his head back harshly again, and all he could see was water once more.

Chapter Text

Another day came. Gordon had slept later than usual, and was still asleep when they came to get them that morning. He was finding his sleep to be deeper these days, if he slept at all. He was tired more often than not. Pain was both exhausting and something that made sleep impossible.

He was pulled from his less than restful sleep as he was hauled up from the mattress, still only half awake. He winced as pressure was put on his ankle that he’d hurt a couple of days prior thanks to some guy with a baton.

It took him a long moment as he woke up to realise that they had grabbed Fuse as well, and were taking them both in the same direction. Fuse sent him a worried look as they were ushered down the hallway together. They both remembered what had happened the last time they were taken together.

However, this time they were shoved into the same room as each other. Gordon looked around nervously, when he spotted the cruel man that Gordon had dubbed the leader. He had long ago learnt to try and find out what torment met him by seeing what tools and equipment were in the room he was taken to. If he could get an idea as to what they were going to do to him that day, then he had a better chance of not giving into them just to beg them to stop.

There was nothing in the room except the other men. But it was the presence of the leader that had Gordon anxious. These sessions were always worse when he was present.

Gotdon and Fuse stood across from the man. The guards who escorted them there were behind them, standing between them and the door.

Things were still for a moment, but then Gordon abruptly felt a fist in his hair and he was forced to his knees. He heard Fuse protest as Gordon's knees banged against the hard floor.

“I don’t like how you denied my offer the other day, Fuse,” the leader said to the man next to Gordon, who had his arms pulled behind his back by the other guard behind him. He tried to pull out of the grip as the lithe man stepped closer. “But I have another offer for you today. Him or you?”

He pulled out a knife from his belt to indicate what he could be referring to.

“Me!” Fuse answered before Gordon could object.

Gordon opened his mouth to protest Fuse’s decision, but the hand in his hair pulled tighter and he winced as his head was tipped back slightly.

“Excellent,” the man said with a malicious grin, and Gordon feared what Fuse had just signed up for.

He was watching Fuse as he waited for what would happen to him now, so he wasn’t prepared for the sudden kick that met him in the chest.

Gordon coughed as the air was knocked out of him, the hand in his hair preventing him from doubling over.

“Hey!” Fuse cried out. “I said I chose me!”

“Oh, I know.” The man was still grinning, clearly enjoying this little piece of information he hadn’t given over. “You were picking who got to hold the other down.”

Fuse growled under his breath as he was forced to watch the other men manhandle Gordon, who was helplessly on his knees with a fist in his hair.

He knew that once upon a time he could have taken them, and he was forever frustrated at what these people had done to him. They'd beaten him down and made him a weaker version of himself.

He tried to twist out of the grip tightly holding his arms back, but stilled as he felt the movement pull at his shoulder that still hadn't healed.

His shoulder still throbbed with every movement, and he knew that it would never be what it once was if he couldn't give it time to heal, but these men didn't care. Fuse was just lucky that Gordon had reset it for him.

"I didn't know what I was choosing for!" Fuse tried to grab the attention of the man who had been the frontrunner of his past year of torment. "Don't hurt him."

He was ignored as someone pulled out a roll of duct tape from somewhere, and the man slapped a piece over Gordon's mouth. Fuse could see that Gordon attempted to pull away from it, but it was futile with the fist in his hair keeping him in place.

Then, Gordon's arms were pulled to the front of his body as tape was wrapped tightly around his wrists. Abruptly, he was shoved onto his back, a hand planted on his chest to keep him down. Then, his ankles were taped together too.

"Come on then," the crew's leader turned to Fuse at the same time he was shoved forward from behind.

In all this time, Fuse still didn't know this man's name. It made Fuse feel worse whenever the other man addressed him, as it was just another way he flaunted the power balance between them. Fuse felt like the man knew so much about him, but he knew practically nothing about this man and all the other men working for him.

He nodded down at Gordon, who was looking at the man leant above him with wide eyes. However, when he met Fuse's gaze, something shifted. The gaze hardened, and Fuse knew it was once a look he'd sent the other man just weeks before, whilst he watched him try to fight off what was his inevitable fate.

Just do as they said.

Fuse swallowed. That was easier said than done.

He was shoved again, and he stumbled as he took the few steps towards Gordon's head, where he dropped to his knees.

"Hold him down," the man said as he flashed his knife, the blade catching the light and making the sharp edge even more sinister.

Fuse reluctantly placed one hand on Gordon's taped wrists that were lying on the ground above his head, and another on the man's shoulder. Despite the hardened look on Gordon's face, he couldn't hide the way he shook nervously beneath Fuse's hands.

Fuse tried to send a reassuring smile to the man, and despite the tape covering a large portion of his face, he could tell Gordon tried to send him one back.

Fuse thought there was going to be some sort of warning, but suddenly Gordon flinched as the knife was dug into his thigh. A small grunt emitted past the tape, but that was the only sound Gordon made as he squeezed his eyes shut.

The leader was silent as he carved the knife into Gordon, but when Fuse looked over at him, he saw the glint in his eye and the slight curl of his mouth.

He was enjoying this.

Fuse felt nauseous, and it wasn't even him on the end of this.

The nervous shivers under his hands had stilled as Gordon tensed up, but it was the only indication to Fuse that he was in pain. He almost wanted the man to scream out and not feel like he had to swallow it down for Fuse's sake. He was already going through enough for Fuse.

Blood welled around the knife as the leader dragged it into Gordon's skin, but then he abruptly stopped as he sat back.

Gordon let out the breath he'd clearly been holding as a huff of air came through his nose and his chest heaved. He relaxed under Fuse's hold as the worst of the pain stopped, and Fuse rubbed his arm to remind him he was there.

"You can still stop this."

Fuse lifted his gaze from Gordon to find the other man waving the knife in his hand, blood coating the metal and dripping off the edge. The man was grinning at the ultimatum, knowing what he was putting Fuse through.

A muffled sound came from the ground and Fuse looked down to see Gordon shaking his head. His eyes were still closed as he breathed shakily, but Fuse knew it was directed at him.

His heart clenched as he thought about it. Giving into these men would make the past year of pain all for nothing. He had new scars, new nightmares that he would never be able to get rid off. All of that just to end up working for these people anyway, which would be a whole new hell he would never get out of.

But on the other hand, Gordon didn't deserve this either. Fuse had a way to stop his pain, at least for now. Who knew what would happen to him if Fuse gave in.

He didn't know what to do.

So he did nothing.

"Suit yourself," the man shrugged after a long moment with no response, and Fuse felt like the biggest coward to ever exist.

A muffled scream was what indicated to Fuse that the man had started again. Gordon jerked harshly, so much so that Fuse was almost knocked back by the shock and pain as his injured shoulder was pulled.

Surprised by the reaction, as Gordon had held it together before, he looked over to see what the man was doing now.

He still had the knife in his hand, but now he was cutting through the very same gash, deeper now as blood started to spill down Gordon's leg.

Fuse felt muscles convulse beneath his hands, and he found himself holding Gordon down not because he had been told to, but to make the experience more bearable for the man. If Gordon knew he was there, it would help ground him from the pain.

Gordon's back arched as he tried to resist his grip. Fuse could see tears start to spill out the edges of Gordon's closed eyes, and noises continued to escape past the tape. Fuse was sure they weren't just cries of pain, but also begs to stop.

He wanted to look away. He couldn't do this.

But he also couldn't let Gordon go through this alone. If those eyes opened, Fuse wanted to be there to offer him a reassuring smile. If Gordon was forced to endure this, then so was Fuse.

But his eyes did not open. He still twisted and jerked in an attempt to get away from it all, but there was no escape. Even if Fuse let go of his hold, the other man in charge of this torment had a harsh grip on Gordon's leg to pin him down and stop him from disrupting his work.

"It'll be over soon," Fuse found himself muttering as he leant over his friend. It was something he'd learnt from Gordon, to have hope that the pain would end eventually.

Gordon's eyes fluttered open for just a moment, and in that moment Fuse did as he promised he would. He smiled.

Gordon's eyes had quickly fallen shut again, but it was clear the action had grounded him. Harsh breaths came through his nostrils as the muffled screams dulled, but small whimpers still emitted from his throat.

Gordon shuddered when the knife was pulled away again. Fuse looked over to see the wound, which was a deep looking gash that was several inches long. It still continued to sluggishly bleed.

Gordon took deep breaths as the leader stood up and pulled out a cloth from his back pocket. He started to wipe the startling red blood off the blade.

"Take him back to his room," he said to either Fuse or the guards in the room, Fuse wasn't sure.

Before the man left, he bent down to slice the knife through the tape around Gordon's wrists and ankles, not caring that he cut Gordon's skin as he did so.

With a shaky arm, Gordon went to pull off the tape that covered his mouth and took a deep breath. Fuse kept one hand on his shoulder, a reassurance to let him know he was still there.

The door slammed shut as the leader left the room, and then the henchmen who had been lingering in the corners of the room came over.

Slowly, Fuse helped Gordon sit up. There was a slightly dazed look on his face, probably the result of the agonising pain and blood loss, and it took them a long moment to get Gordon on his feet again.

Gordon winced and clenched his teeth when he was forced to stand on his bleeding leg. He leaned heavily on Fuse, and Fuse was sure it was his arm around his waist that was the only thing still keeping him up.

They stumbled through the hallways. Every now and then Fuse felt a prod in his back to pick up the pace, but he was moving as fast as he could. Gordon could barely stand, let alone walk, and Fuse was not going to push him harder than he could go.

Eventually, they made it back to their room, Gordon limping with every step and Fuse feeling like he was going to drop the man at any second.

When they were let into the room, he placed Gordon on his bed and then quickly went searching for bandages. Gordon's head fell back against the wall, barely conscious.

It looked bad. Fuse didn't know much first aid aside from what he'd taught himself, but he was sure a wound like this needed stitches. It was still bleeding profusely, even after Fuse had tied the fabric tightly around Gordon's thigh.

"Such an idiot," Fuse mumbled to himself as he tore off another strip from the old shirt. "Shoulda known he was going to play some trick like this."

Gordon had gone quiet and his eyes were closed, so Fuse thought he may have finally given into the sleep pulling at him. So, he was surprised by the murmur that came from the man.

"Better me… than you."

"Don't say that!" Fuse was quick to argue. He was shocked Gordon would even say such a thing. To think that Fuse's life was worth saving.

"You've been through… so much." Gordon's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Fuse.

"So have you!" Fuse countered.

"Not as much as you."

Fuse stilled as he was tying another bandage around Gordon's leg. They had both been through a lot in their time there, and just because Fuse had been there longer, that didn't mean Gordon had to go through pain in his place.

But Fuse was taken aback by the comment. No one had ever done anything for him except his sister, and so he didn't understand why Gordon felt the need to do such a thing for him. Fuse came from a place where you had to fight for yourself and yourself alone, no one would ever put themself at the sharp end of a knife to save someone else taking their place.

There was something different about Gordon. With the way he had been determined to find a way out of there the moment he arrived in this hell, and how he never gave up even after all the pain he had gone through. Even now, after Fuse had let him get hurt twice, he still had no regrets. Fuse was sure he had never met anyone like him.

He noticed Gordon's eyes falling closed again, so Fuse tied off the bandage and helped him lay down.

"Just sleep. I'll be right here," he reassured.

Gordon didn't make any reaction to indicate that he had heard him, but Fuse said it anyway just in case he had.

He crossed his legs, pulled his aching arm to his chest, and waited for any indication that Gordon could possibly bleed out in front of him. He was determined he would not let that happen, as he knew Gordon would do the same for him.

Chapter Text

Gordon woke with a start, his chest pounding as the remnants of the nightmare faded away. The room was still dark, but Gordon wasn't sure if he could sleep any more. He couldn't remember what the nightmare had been about, but the fear still lingered.

He reached down to trace his fingers along the makeshift bandages, wincing as even the light contact made the wound sting.

It had been a couple of days and his leg had eventually stopped bleeding, but now heat radiated off of it, and Gordon's worries were coming true.

He slumped back against the mattress. It wasn't a surprise. This place probably hadn't seen a mop in decades, who knew what bacteria was all over these dusty floors. Not to mention the lack of medical attention they got here. He was honestly shocked an infection hadn't happened sooner.

He was going to need to do something about this. He couldn't just leave it and it would only get worse, but there was nothing he could do. His only hope was that these people would help him, but he didn't think he could count on that.

This was bad.

Really bad.

He hurt all over. He was both hot and cold. He felt nauseous, but was never actually sick.

Gordon knew what was happening, but any energy he'd felt to try and do something about it was gone. He was now left to endure this fate.

Fuse kept pacing the floor, and Gordon tracked him with his eyes. He felt too tired to move his head.

"You're making me dizzy," Gordon murmured, then coughed.

"We need to do something." Fuse paused in his tracks, but then he quickly marched over to the door. "Hey! We need help!"

He pounded on the door, which reverberated through Gordon's skull. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and block it out.

"You've already tried that. Didn't work."

These people didn't care. That was evident in how just the day before, when Gordon had started to feel this horrible wave wash over him, he had been forced to endure another beating, this time with bats instead of fists. It seemed they no longer cared enough to keep him alive, and were just enjoying the pleasure whilst they still had him.

"What do we do then?" Fuse spun around as he yelled, but Gordon knew he was just worried, not angry at him. "You're going to die!"

"Thanks for the sugarcoat," Gordon grunted as he tried to push himself up from the wall he'd been leaning against. He winced as the movement pulled at all his aches and wounds, and Fuse came to crouch in front of him, concern deep in his eyes. "There is one last thing we haven't tried yet."

Gordon knew it was immensely risky, and would hang on a combination of these men's stupidity and the idea that they really did not care if he died. If this didn't go to plan, they would be in huge trouble, but Fuse was right. Gordon was going to die if something wasn't done soon, and then he wouldn't be worrying about whatever punishment came for him for getting caught, because his fate would be much, much worse.

This was all they had left to do.

"I have a plan."

Fuse chewed his lip as he stared at the door. This was their one chance to put this to an end, but it was also something so risky that could end up with them both dead.

There were so many ways this could go wrong. Even now, someone could come into the room and see what they were doing.

Fuse glanced down at the still, unmoving body of his friend, and quickly fell to his knees.

He put his fingers to his wrist, but there was no pulse. He put his hand under his nose, but there was no breath.

He shot to his feet and hurried to the door.

"He's dead!" Fuse pounded his fists against the metal with all his strength. "I need help! He's dead!"

Gordon's plan was extremely risky indeed.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Fuse had asked him just a short while ago. "If we're caught… these people are not to be messed with."

"We have no choice." Gordon paused in the middle of splashing cold water on his face. "I have no choice."

He turned away from the sink to face Fuse, who was leaning in the doorway to the tiny bathroom.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this. You don't have to help. I won't be upset with you if you don't."

His face was pale, and Fuse knew the grip he had on the edge of the sink was all that was keeping him on his feet. If he was willing to try something as drastic as this, he must be desperate.

Fuse had told him a while ago they were in this together, and he meant it.

"No, we're doing this together. You need to get out of here." He straightened. "And who knows, we may actually pull it off."

Gordon smiled in relief, and then turned back to the cold water. He was trying to reduce the heat of his fever. It wouldn't last long, but hopefully would be enough to disguise the warmth of someone still alive.

When Gordon was done, Fuse helped him limp back to his bed. The way he clung to Fuse just to walk showed the man just how much this was needed.

“I need you to tie these around my arms, high enough so they’re covered by the sleeves.”

As he sat down on the mattress, he picked up the two strips of fabric that he had been tearing a short while ago whilst he explained his plan to Fuse. Fuse had wondered what they were for, although he still wasn’t fully clear.

“What are they for?” He asked, but still did as Gordon asked. He sat down next to the other man and rolled up one of his sleeves.

“There’s an artery that runs from the shoulder to your arm,” he explained as Fuse looped one piece of fabric around his armpit and began to tie a knot. “If you cut off the blood flow, then it will stop the pulse in your wrist.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Fuse paused in his movements, wondering if Gordon was going delirious as well as feverish. “Can’t you like, lose your arms that way?”

“Hopefully I won’t have to keep them on for long, just make sure they’re tight enough. But not too tight that I can’t get them off.”

Fuse watched him sceptically, but if Gordon seemed fine with this, then Fuse supposed he knew what he was doing. Or he really was delirious, and Fuse was doing the complete opposite of helping him and was actually going to make this worse.

With a sigh, he pulled the strip of fabric tight and tied a knot that would hold, but wouldn’t be too difficult to undo.

As he worked, he wondered how Gordon knew this kind of stuff. After he’d helped Fuse with his shoulder, he had his suspicions that Gordon probably came from some sort of medical background. That still seemed likely now, but didn’t make much sense as to how someone like him could end up here. Maybe there was still more to him than Fuse realised.

Once Fuse had tied one piece of fabric around Gordon’s upper arm, high enough to be hidden by the sleeve of his shirt, he moved onto the next one. Gordon flexed his hand, presumably feeling the loss of blood flow to the limb.

“This better succeed,” Fuse mumbled as he worked. If Gordon was caught, then Fuse doubted he was going to see the light of day again, which was ironic as even if he stayed here, he still would not see daylight.

“Look, if this goes all wrong, I’ll try my best to make them believe you had nothing to do with it. Only I should get punished.”

“No, I’m not worried about myself.” Fuse shook his head. “I’m worried about you getting killed.”

Fuse stilled, his hands lingering on the edges of the fabric as his words caught up to him. When did he start to care so much about Gordon? He shouldn’t have been so surprised, but when it came down to it, he still barely knew the man. It felt like he had only just shown up, full of an eagerness to find a way out, whilst Fuse discouraged his hope and told him to give up.

He supposed not much had changed there. Except now he was helping him, not stopping him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and tied the last knot.

“All done.” He pulled Gordon’s shirt sleeve down to cover the fabric. “But is splashing your face with cold water and cutting off your circulation going to be enough to fake your death?”

“I’m a swimmer, I can hold my breath for a while as well,” Gordon added, then paused as his face fell and he slumped. “This is not a good plan at all.”

Fuse snorted. “Well, it’s not like we have much to work with. Let’s just have everything crossed.”

He stood from the mattress and looked down at his friend. Pale skin with dark bags and sunken cheeks, he already looked on the brink of death. They just had to fake the rest.

“You ready?” He asked, and after a long moment Gordon nodded. “See you on the other side.”

Gordon laid down and got himself into position. As he did so, Fuse sent a nervous glance towards the door. This would be an awful time for them to find out there were cameras in their room this whole time.

He bit his lip nervously, and then moved down to check on Gordon. He couldn’t feel his pulse or his breath, so he hoped that no one else could either.

He rushed over to the door and pounded on it as hard as he could.

“He’s dead!”

No one came, and he had to yell some more. They had no way to know if their room was soundproof, but hopefully his thumping on the door was loud enough to come through.

It took a couple of minutes, and Fuse worried that in that time all their prep would go out the window. But they didn’t have time to fix anything, as suddenly Fuse was met with the sound of the door unlocking.

He took a step back as the door swung open, and a man came charging in.

“What is it?” He had a hand on the gun in his holster as he looked at Fuse furiously, clearly displeased at him making such a ruckus.

“He’s dead!” Fuse tried to act more distressed than he was actually feeling. He knew that Gordon was alright, for now at least, but he tapped into his fear of what would happen if this man knew they were lying.

The man glanced down at Gordon, who laid on the mattress looking like he had passed in his sleep. He stood there for a long moment, just watching him like he was trying to catch them out.

“How?” He eventually said, still not rushing to Gordon’s side like Fuse thought he would.

“He had an infection. I called for help and no one listened.”

The man sent another look to Fuse, and then slowly stepped forward and crouched down. He placed two fingers against Gordon’s outstretched wrist, and Fuse held his breath.

After a moment, he moved his hand beneath Gordon’s nose, and then dropped it a second later. He stayed crouched next to him for a long while, tracking his eyes over Gordon before he was ready to believe their ploy. His eyes lingered over the infected wound, and then reached out a hand.

“You could have stopped this if you just listened to me,” Fuse spoke up, voicing the first thing he could think of to distract the man and draw his attention away from Gordon.

It worked, as the man froze, and then withdrew his hand. He stood up and turned to Fuse.

Fuse steeled himself for what the man would say in response, but all he did was send him a look before he headed out the door.

Fuse watched him go, and the door slammed shut behind him.

He didn’t want to move from his spot in case the man came back, but he didn’t know where he went. Gordon was silent as he stayed where he was too, but when Fuse sent him a glance, he saw him peek one eye open.

Did the man not believe them? Now Fuse was worried he was going to come back with some form of punishment for them, and he felt his hands start to shake. He clasped them together. He couldn’t let them see him worry.

Eventually, the door burst open again, and this time the man had brought another grunt. He did all the same checks as the other had done before, and then nodded.

Whether that nod was good or bad for them, Fuse didn’t know, but whatever it meant, it was enough for one of the men to step forward and grab Gordon.

He was thrown over their shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and then just as swiftly as the men came in, they left, now with Gordon’s limp body in tow.

Fuse watched them go, and as the door swung shut and Gordon disappeared, he hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he saw the man.

Chapter Text

Gordon had never been more terrified, but he couldn't show it.

He had to stay still and keep his breathing even, when instead he could feel his lungs burn with the need to panic. His heart wanted to hammer out of his chest, but he had to keep it down.

When he had felt hands harshly grab him and he was thrown over someone's shoulder, he allowed himself to slowly suck in a breath. Hopefully no one would notice his steady breaths that he needed to catch before his lungs exploded, because he couldn't hold his breath for any longer.

He breathed steadily to keep his heart rate slow and hopefully undetectable enough to get through this. In through the nose, and then slowly exhale so the man carrying him couldn't feel his chest expanding and deflating.

He felt them walking, and each step jostled his aches and pains. His arms felt fuzzy and numb, and were filled with shards of pain as they suffered without the blood flow. It took all he had to keep himself from wincing with every movement.

After what felt like a long while of walking down the never-ending hallways, Gordon felt cool air hit his face for the first time in weeks.

He didn't think they were outside quite yet, but they were likely in a room that was connected to the outside. He had to resist the urge to just struggle out of the grip and run. They were so close, he couldn't mess it up, even if he was overwhelmed by the need to get out of there.

As a door slammed behind them, Gordon could hear various voices echo around them, along with the sound of engines running. The cold air along with the distant noises made him feel like he was in an expansive room, and it gave him the same impression of being in an underground parking lot.

They walked a little further, and then he felt himself be abruptly thrown down. He hit something hard, and he hoped that the loud slam it made muffled the grunt of pain he couldn't keep in when all his injuries were jostled.

His body was sprawled there, ragdolled across something cold like metal, and unable to move or curl around his wounds as he played the part of a dead body.

"What's all this about?" Gordon's stomach dropped as he heard the familiar voice. Those grunts might have believed he was dead, but he doubted the leader was so stupid.

"Got infected. He's dead, we checked." He didn't recognise the voice, but presumed it was the man who had carried him here.

Gordon felt his world rock and realised that what he was laying in must have been a vehicle, possibly the back of a van, and someone was climbing in next to him to make it jostle.

He felt the presence of someone looking over him and could hear their breath as they hovered close, and he stopped his own breathing. He desperately wanted to see what was happening, and he had to resist the urge to open his eyes.

All of a sudden, a shoe hit his chest and forced him back into the wall of the van. Gordon clenched his teeth to stop himself from crying out, but he couldn't stop the shaky breath that escaped his throat. He waited in agony to see if anyone had heard.

The man huffed.

"Pathetic."

The van rocked again as the man jumped out, and Gordon heard his feet land on the floor.

"You know where to dispose of him."

Those were the last words Gordon heard before the doors slammed shut.

There were muffled words spoken through the metal, and Gordon feared what they were saying in case they had figured out his ploy, but he couldn't hear anything clear.

Then, after the voices had stopped, he heard another door open and close as presumably someone got into the driver's seat. There was a rumbling beneath him, and then movement as the van started to drive.

Gordon's head banged against the wall as they took a sharp turn. He internally groaned and wanted to tell the man to take it easy around the corners, but he couldn't. He wasn't even able to brace himself in case he was being watched, so instead had to endure being thrown around like a ragdoll.

He was concerned with how far out they were driving. The further he got from where he had been kept, the harder it was going to be to find it later to rescue Fuse.

He tried his best to keep track of how long they were driving, the turns they were taking, and the roads they were on. The trip was bumpy and he was thrown against the floor every time the van was jostled, which sent shards of pain through his whole body, but it gave him the impression they weren't on a main road and were off the beaten track.

However, the constant pain made it hard for him to keep track of the time. Everytime he started to count, another shot of agony made him lose his place and he had to start again.

He had just counted to a minute when another jolt had him biting his tongue to keep in the cry. But wait, was he not just at two minutes a second ago? And he was sure he reached five minutes at some point.

Another bump sent him flying and landing on his leg, forgetting his thoughts again. If his eyes weren't already closed, then he was sure the white hot pain would've had his vision blacking out for a moment.

It took him several seconds of steady breaths, whilst the sharp daggers faded to just stabbing throbs, for him to realise they had come to a stop. He froze, wondering where they had ended up.

This was the moment of truth, if he had gotten away with it or not. They could have been driving him out here to bury him, or punish him and kill him anyway.

Either way, he was prepared to put up a fight. He did not want to come this far only to fall at the final hurdle.

The back doors of the van opened, and Gordon was harshly pulled out of the vehicle and into a bridal carry. His head lolled back and his limbs hung lifeless from the arms holding him.

The first thing that met his ears was the sound of rushing water. Gordon felt his heart jump in delight at the possibilities, but before he could prepare himself, he was suddenly flying through the air.

He couldn't even suck in a breath before he hit the cold water. The shock hit his body, and he was left tumbling through the currents as he waited for his mind to catch up.

His arms. They were stinging and he needed to get the full feeling back. The water had loosened the fabric, and he feebly clawed at one shoulder, his arm half asleep, before he managed to slip the fabric off.

As the blood rushed back, he moved onto the other. He still hadn't resurfaced and his lungs burned with the need for air, but with arms that didn't want to work yet, he couldn't stop himself from being thrown around beneath the surface.

Just as he pulled the other piece of fabric off, he slammed into something hard, which had him involuntarily drawing in a breath.

However, it wasn't air that hit his throat, but water.

His chest burned, but finally he could kick himself up to the surface.

He gasped as cold air hit his face. He blinked past the water in his eyes as he looked around, but all he could see was the rush of trees as the river pulled him quickly along.

He couldn't see anyone around, so he assumed he was far enough away from the man who had brought him here and he could drop the act, and start to fight for his life.

The water sucked him down again, and he felt hidden branches catch his clothing and scratch his skin. It took him a disorientating moment to work out which way the surface was, but he could only quickly draw another breath in before he was under once more.

He was going to need to find something to grab onto. He felt around, but everytime he thought he'd managed to grasp onto something, the currents ripped him away.

His injured leg feebly kicked beneath him, and he knew his strength was at its last threads. He was going to die for real if he couldn't get out of there.

When the current next forced him under, he couldn't stop himself from slamming headfirst into a rock.

Like a switch, everything went black.

A violent cough ripped him awake.

He blinked sluggishly as he choked on what felt like his own lungs. His face was against something hard and went, and he slowly lifted his head to see where he was.

It was dark. When did it become night? He lifted a hand to his pounding skull, and heard the splash of water as he lifted the limb.

He frowned, and looked around to see the moonlight hit the surface of the water surrounding him.

He was in a river that calmly rippled as he moved, and his memories came back to him.

Right. He needed help.

He was slumped against a rock. His upper body out of the water, but the rest of him going numb from the cold. He glanced around, until he found the bank of the river nearby.

He pushed himself off the rock, gasping as the freezing water hit the parts of him that had been out of the water. He waded over to the dry land, the river coming up to his chest.

Getting out of the water was harder than he thought it would be. The water pulled at his clothes like it had a fist in the fabric and wanted to drag him back down. All of his energy was gone, his arms felt like jelly and his legs didn't want to work.

He grasped at the strands of grass on the bank and pulled himself out of the river. The mud was slick beneath him, and his upper body did most of the work as he dragged himself onto dry land.

As soon as his feet were on the grass, he slumped down onto his back and took deep, panting breaths. He wanted to just lay right there and go to sleep. Nothing sounded better right now. He closed his eyes.

A splash of water hit his already wet cheek. He scrunched his face up at the sensation. He was content to ignore it, but another hit his face.

He opened his eyes as the loud patter of rain surrounded him. It picked up quickly, and soon the noise was thunderous as droplets of water hit the river.

He needed to get up.

With a groan, he pushed himself up onto his hands. He didn't need to be quiet anymore, so he held nothing back as a blood curdling cry erupted from his throat as he got to his feet.

Pain flashed up his leg, and he put all of his weight on his good leg. He felt dizzy, and the dark night swirled around him as he tried to get his bearings.

He had no idea where to go. He listened for any noises that could lead to help, but the rain was loud and the wind had picked up.

But then he heard it, as well as saw it.

The sound of wheels on tarmac splashing through the rain. The light of headlights as they sped across from him.

The brief flash of light gave Gordon a better idea of where he was. The bank of grass carried on up a slight hill, and at the top was a road.

It wasn't that far, would maybe take him only a minute to walk any other day.

But today it was the longest walk of his life.

He took one step, and the pain was so bad his vision doubled and a wave of nausea washed over him.

Lightning flashed overhead at the same time he went crashing to the ground.

He emptied his stomach as river water and yesterday's meal spilled over the grass. His forearms wobbled as they held him up, and he felt rain hit his back as he hunched over.

When he felt he couldn't be sick anymore, he tried again. He pushed himself up onto his feet, and took another step.

He was more prepared this time, and managed to make it a few more steps before he tripped.

A cry emitted past his lips and he wanted to curl up right there, in the rain and only a few steps away from his own vomit.

But then Fuse's face flashed in his mind. He needed to find someone so he could help the man.

Gordon clenched his teeth together, and pushed himself up again.

Thunder crackled above. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and he shivered as wind blew at his wet clothes. But he powered on, staggering through the grass and up the bank.

He was starting to think he'd make it, but just before he reached the tip of the bank, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor.

He tried to get up again, but no matter how much he yelled at his body to just move, it didn't want to cooperate.

There was a noise and a light getting closer, but still Gordon couldn't get himself off the wet, muddy ground.

"He-" His voice was raspy and weak. "Help…"

He managed to weakly raise one arm and reach out to the car that he could just about see drive past. It was so close, but too far out of reach. The light flashed by, and then it was gone.

He wouldn't be seen here. He was still too far from the road and it was too dark. The rain continued to fall and the storm continued to roar. Any sound he made wouldn't be heard.

A long moment passed as his eyes started to droop and sleep clawed at him. He was willing to give in, but then thunder and lightning shocked him awake.

His eyes widened, and he realised what he was so close to doing.

No. He was not giving up. He would not come this far just to have his final moments at the side of a road.

One limb at a time, he pushed up from the grass. He got to his palms, then his knees, and finally his feet.

He didn't allow himself to stop as he finally staggered to the end of the grass and reached gravel.

There was another light in the distance, and Gordon couldn't fall now. He stumbled forward and into the road, his arms raised to wave them down.

The light was blinding and bright as it washed over him, getting closer and brighter every second.

"Help," he croaked again, but it was drowned out by the sound of screeching brakes and the thump as something slammed into his body.

Chapter Text

Doctor Maria Harper started that day like most others. She woke up, made breakfast, kissed her two girls on the head as she wished them a good day at school, and then headed out the door to work.

She'd been working in the ICU for a few weeks now, after a few of their staff had moved onto other hospitals and they needed someone to fill their space.

"Doctor Harper."

She looked over to see who was calling her.

"Doctor Wilson." She smiled as she headed over to the nurse's station, where the other doctor was stood filling out some paperwork. "Eventful night?"

"You can say that," the young doctor huffed tiredly.

"What happened? New admissions?"

"Just the one." She pulled out a clipboard from beneath the stack of paper she was writing on, and handed it over to Maria.

"Young male, involved in a car accident. He came in last night. Abrasions, three broken ribs, a broken arm, and a grade four concussion. He still hasn't woken up, so we don't know how serious the head injury is yet. We also don't know who he is or where he came from."

She turned to head towards the patient's room, and Maria followed. She read over the information in front of her, which confirmed everything the other woman had just said.

They passed by a couple rooms, until they reached the door to the patient's room.

"There's something else."

Maria looked up from the clipboard before she had a chance to read it all. There was something in the woman's voice that had all her alarm bells ringing.

"What is it?"

Doctor Wilson sent a look towards the door they were standing next to, hesitant to say whatever she was thinking.

"He also came in with a seriously infected wound that was several days old. He was honestly lucky he came in when he did."

Maria frowned, but didn't think that was so out of the ordinary. She had seen plenty of patients over the years who had come in with injuries they had ignored for way too long.

"Maybe he was on his way here when he got hit?" She suggested, but the other doctor shook her head.

"I don't think so."

There was something else she still wasn't telling her.

"The driver who hit him said he came out of nowhere, and the road they were on was surrounded by nothing but forests and mountains. He-" She seemed really troubled now, and Maria's concerns grew. "He is also covered in old wounds, some several weeks old, all over his body. Plus, he was malnourished and dehydrated. Not to mention that there was a storm last night, but he came in with just a shirt and shorts, which were filthy and in tatters. He was almost hypothermic."

Maria nodded as she took it all in, and a growing pit of dread grew in the depth of her stomach. She had ideas of what this could mean, but didn't want to jump to the worst scenarios just yet.

"Something's not right here," Doctor Wilson concluded.

Before Maria could say anything, a beeping came from the room they were just outside of.

The women took one look at each other, before they hurried through the door.

The man on the bed was rousing. Grumbles came from his lips as his limbs started to move.

"Sir?" Maria approached the side of his bed. "My name is Doctor Harper, can you open your eyes for me?"

The man continued to mumble, and he didn't seem to have heard her.

"Sir?" Maria leaned in closer, but then his eyes flew open.

They darted around, never landing on anything specific. One hand grasped onto the mattress, and he started to push himself up.

"Sir, you need to lay back down." She gently placed her hands on his shoulders to coax him back down against the pillows.

His arm wobbled, and he fell back down, but then he tried to swat her away.

"I-" His voice croaked, barely able to be heard. "I need…"

"What do you need?" Maria probed.

"F-" The man's eyes fluttered as he breathed heavily. "Got… gotta get…”

He panted, his chest heaving.

"Need… h-help…"

"You're in the hospital, Sir. You're safe," she said comfortingly. "Can you tell me your name?"

The man still seemed like he couldn't hear what she was saying. His unfocused eyes continued to glance around, jumping from one thing to another.

"Sir?" She tried again, but then abruptly an arm came flying towards her.

She had to take a step back to not get hit. He attempted to sit up again, this time even trying to use the arm in a cast.

When he put weight on the broken limb, he winced, but still attempted to get up.

"Sir, you can't get up." Doctor Wilson tried to step in. However, when she tried to touch him, his cast almost hit her in the face.

"No…" the man continued to mutter as he sat up.

He reached for the IV in his arm, but Doctor Wilson managed to step in fast enough to stop him. She pulled his arm back, even though he tried to wrench it from her grasp.

"No!" His voice was still raspy and didn't hold much volume. "I gotta-"

He didn't finish that sentence as he moved like he wanted to climb out of the bed.

"You need to calm down." Maria held his shoulder, firmer now as she pushed him back against the bed. "You are safe."

With his arms restrained, he tried to get his legs involved. They feebly kicked beneath the blanket, and although his movements were lacking any real strength, the doctors were worried he was going to injure himself further.

"Go and get the diazepam," Maria instructed the other doctor, who nodded and then hurried from the room.

With his other arm free again, he went back to trying to rip out the IV. Maria placed both her hands over his shoulders to keep him against the bed.

Doctor Wilson came back quickly, and handed the medicine to Maria. The younger doctor took over restraining the man, whilst she donned a pair of gloves, and drew the medicine out of the vial.

She injected it into the cannula, and waited for it to kick in.

"He… he…" the man muttered, the fight leaving him as he sank against the bed.

"Yes, we're here to help you," Maria comforted, assuming that was what he was trying to say.

"F-Fu…" His eyelids started to flutter, and he blinked like he was trying to keep them open. "Riv…"

He lost the fight, and the next time he blinked, his eyes didn't reopen. His whole body sagged, and the two women straightened as they took deep breaths.

Now that the man was relaxed, Maria took that moment to truly look him over.

He looked young, young enough to be her son. His cheeks were sunken, and his pale skin made all his bruises stand out and look harsher.

He was covered in bandages, some of which she had yet to read the cause of in the report, but she could imagine what kind of injuries lay underneath.

The skin that was left uncovered was scarred, some wounds still pink and yet to fade.

Whatever had happened to this young boy, it was not going to be short of awful.

"We should call the police," Doctor Wilson voiced what Maria was thinking.

She went to nod, but stopped herself as she moved her gaze back to his face.

Something about him seemed familiar. For a long moment, she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but then it hit her.

She had seen his face before. Back then it was more muscular and partially hidden by the visor of a helmet, but she would never forget the face of the man who saved her family's life.

It had been the summer of last year. Whilst on vacation, they had decided to rent a boat for the day. They hadn't expected the storm to come and rip a hole in their boat, but what surprised them even more was the big green plane that broke through the thundering clouds.

A young man in yellow had come swinging from beneath the ship, and helped lift her family to safety.

They were met with warmth and blankets and towels, and then were taken back to the hotel they'd been staying at, with firm instructions to check the weather next time they went out to sea.

Maria knew she wouldn't forget the smile he beamed at her kids to let them know it was all going to be fine, especially not when that same smile had been all over the news lately.

She had seen the articles about how he had gone missing, and her heart ached for his family to find him, so they could be reunited, just like she was with her own.

The man she had met that day was so very different from the one before her. He had stood tall and brave on the deck of the sinking ship, clipping them all into harnesses one by one and never falling.

Now, he wouldn't even be able to stand on dry land without collapsing.

"Leave it to me," she eventually replied to the other woman.

She took one last look at the man, and then made her way out of the room.

She made her way past the nurse's station and towards a quieter section of the ward. This was not something she wanted to do with a bunch of prying eyes.

She pulled out her phone and typed in the well-known number.

It only rang for a couple of seconds before it was picked up.

"International Rescue, what's your emergency?"

Chapter Text

"What do you mean he hasn't come back?" Scott snapped as he addressed his brother's hologram.

Deep down, he knew this wasn't John's fault. However, at that moment, he had no one else to yell at.

"He went to that warehouse twenty minutes ago. I haven't heard from him since, and I can't get through to him," John repeated everything he had just told Scott, which wasn't helpful.

Instead of wasting any more time on replying, Scott spun on his heel and hurried out of Two's module. Virgil was in there with him, and Scott heard the sound of his footsteps as he followed after him.

"Scott, wait up!" Virgil called, but Scott didn't slow down in the slightest.

"No, Virg. Something is wrong. Gordon wouldn't just ignore John, he knows how serious that is." He didn't even turn around to talk to his brother as he made his way over to the docks.

He found the warehouse that John had sent Gordon to. There was an open side door, and Scott went to step inside, but was stopped by the hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to just head straight in there? If something has happened to Gordon… we don't know what we'll face."

Scott didn't even need time to think about his answer.

"If something has happened to Gordon, then I'm not going to just wait out here in case he needs our help."

He shrugged Virgil's hand off, and then burst into the building.

The room that met him was spacious. There were a bunch of empty shelves lining the room, like this place was once used for storing something, but there was nothing else around. No boxes or people, and no sign of their brother.

"Scott, over there!"

Virgil pointed over to something that was left abandoned in the middle of the open floor. It was blue and yellow, and had Scott running towards it.

For a moment, Scott thought it might be Gordon, curled up in a ball on the floor. But when he got closer, he didn't find his brother, just his abandoned uniform.

He picked up the sash, and thumbed the logo where there was a dirty scuff.

Something was very, very wrong. Gordon wouldn't just take his uniform off and go off on a wander in his underwear. Not unless he was concussed and confused, but even if that was the case, it still begged the question: where the hell was his brother?

He clenched the sash in his fist, and his big brother instincts told him that whatever had happened, it was very, very bad.

"Why weren't you in constant communication with him? You should have realised he was gone sooner."

It was later, and they were back on the island after a very stressful day of searching for their missing brother. They were all crowded in the lounge, with John's hologram in the centre.

"Scott, this isn't his fault," Virgil tried to interject, but neither of them were having it.

"Sorry if I was busy making sure the rest of you didn't die," John countered.

"We weren't the ones in danger!"

"Would you two just calm down?" Virgil raised his voice, and the other two snapped their mouths shut, even if they continued to glare at each other. "You can deal with that later. Right now we should be focused on looking for Gordon."

"Virgil is right." Their dad stood from his seat, where a pale looking Alan was next to his side. "This is not the time to fight."

Scott knew he was right, but he was also not done taking it out on his brother. However, there was a time and a place for that, and this was not it.

"Sorry," John muttered, but Scott stayed quiet.

"What do we know?" Their dad asked, bringing them back to the task at hand.

"In the twenty minutes between my last communication with Gordon and when Scott and Virgil reached the warehouse, he had seemingly disappeared," John explained what they all already knew. "The only trace of him was his uniform and sash."

Jeff nodded along, taking it all in again even though he had already had it explained to him earlier, when they first called him to bring up the situation.

"You said you saw tire tracks, right?" He turned to Scott and Virgil, who both nodded at the reminder.

"They led out of the warehouse, but they disappeared soon after they reached outside," Scott confirmed.

"And the GDF?" He turned to John.

"They're still at the site, but haven't sent any updates. Colonel Casey said she'll get in contact as soon as they find anything."

"How can something like this happen? We were right there." Virgil asked it to the room, but no one there could answer.

They all grew quiet, feeling the weight of the situation on their shoulders. This growing feeling of helplessness felt all too familiar to a moment over eight years ago.

Then, the silence was broken by the youngest one present.

"It's time we face it. Someone has taken Gordon."

They all turned towards Alan, who was hunched over on the couch. His eyes were on the table in front of him, but his gaze appeared lost.

"There's no other explanation, right? Denying it will only make this take longer."

His eyes were wide and haunted with unshed tears. They carried the trauma of a child who had gone through something so very similar, and had only recently started the recovery after the missing piece was brought back.

Scott did not want to put his family through something like that again. If they found their dad, they could find their brother.

He turned on his heel, and headed out of the pit and towards his chute.

"Where are you going?" His dad called after him.

"Back to the site. If the GDF can't find something to help, then I will." He grasped onto the lamps and turned to face his family.

"This is ridiculous. You don't know if you will find anything. We need to be together right now," Virgil tried to stupidly reason.

"We'll only be together when we get Gordon back."

He pulled the lamps down, and the wall began to spin.

"I'll go after him," Kayo said, which was the last thing he heard before he made his way down to his ship.

"What do you mean you still have nothing?" Scott yelled in outrage.

"Like I told you, there was no CCTV in the building, and everything else nearby was destroyed by the earthquake taking the powerline out. No one who was on the site at the time reported seeing any suspicious vehicles in the area, including you guys." Colonel Casey stood straight and unwavering, like she hadn't just basically blamed them for what had happened.

"And it took you a week to get back to us with this? Who knows what Gordon has been going through in that time."

That was if he was even alive, but Scott didn't want to delve into those thoughts just yet.

"Colonel Casey is not to blame here," said the other hologram in front of him. "She's doing the best she can."

"Shut up, John." Scott clenched his fists as he glared at his brother. The other man should be thankful he was miles away in space right now, and not within punching distance.

John just rolled his eyes and didn't rise to the bait. He turned to Colonel Casey, who also didn't seem fazed by Scott's anger.

"Maybe you should give us a minute. We can pick this up later?" John suggested, and she gave a firm nod.

"Of course." She then locked eyes with Scott, and her gaze grew soft with understanding. "We're still doing all we can to find your brother. We will not stop until every table is turned."

She then blinked out, and it was just Scott and John in the room.

"She is doing everything she can. You don't need to yell at her."

Scott huffed. "It was her fault that dad went missing. She could have done more then. She can do more now."

"You know that's not true. You shouldn't make accusations like that." John's voice was filled with shock, but Scott just scoffed at his naivety.

"Don't act like you haven't been thinking the same thing these past years." He started to pace in frustration. "If it wasn't for her, the Hood never would have stolen the ship that sent dad into space. And all the other times the Hood hurt us? What did she do then?"

"She has always done everything in her power to help us. You can't blame her for the things out of her control."

"Then who am I meant to blame!" He shouted as a fist flew into the closest wall.

He winced as he pulled his hand back to his chest. His mind caught up to his actions as pain screamed across his knuckles. The back of his hand was cut and bleeding.

His fight dissolved, and all that remained was pain and fear. And guilt.

"If I have no one to blame, then I can only blame myself." His voice was small, barely audible to even his own ears. "And I don't think I can survive knowing I did this to my own brother."

"No one is to blame except the people who did this to Gordon." John's voice carried across the room, but Scott didn't look up from his bruised fist. He didn't deserve his comfort. "And when we find them, because we will, I know you will give them hell to pay. This is not your fault."

But it was. He knew it was, deep down. He blamed others because he didn't want to admit it to himself.

However, there was no escaping it. As their leader, he should have stopped this from happening. He should have done better.

He didn't deserve to be their big brother.

Without replying to John, he quickly made his way out of the room, ignoring his brother's calls for him to come back.

Scott didn't know where he was going. He just let his feet carry him, and it wasn't until he walked into the room that he registered where he was.

The infirmary.

He didn't know why he would go there, but then he felt a flash of pain in his hand, and he remembered.

"Scott?"

He turned to see Virgil making his way into the room.

"How did you know I was in here?" He asked, but then realisation dawned. "Wait, did John tell you?"

Virgil didn't need to reply as he sent Scott a knowing look. Yeah, when did John not get his nose involved everywhere.

"Sit," was all his brother said to him as he gestured to the bed.

Scott, feeling like a child who had been caught doing something he shouldn't, perched on the bed with his head hung low, not meeting his brother's eyes.

He was ready for the grilling about how he shouldn't have shouted at John or Colonel Casey, and how he shouldn't have punched the wall in his anger.

However, Virgil said nothing. He worked in silence as he pulled a seat over and sat down across from Scott. Not a word was spoken between them whilst Virgil cleaned his knuckles and wrapped a bandage around his hand. All that could be heard were the occasional winces that escaped past Scott's clenched teeth.

Eventually, the silence was too excruciating, and Scott had to say something.

"Virgil, I-"

"Save it." Virgil looked up after he'd taped down the end of the bandage. "It's not me you should be apologising to."

Scott nodded, knowing who he was referring to.

"I don't even know what to say to him."

"You can start with 'I'm sorry'."

That voice wasn't the one of the brother in front of him, and Scott turned to find John hovering in the doorway.

"John? How long have you been there?" Scott had never heard him approach.

"Only a second, but I guess it's good timing."

John crossed the threshold and came over to sit next to Scott on the bed. At the same time, Virgil stood up, and sent John a nod before he left the room.

"John, I am so, so sorry for what I said to you," Scott said as soon as the door was closed again.

"It's fine." John shrugged. "I get you're just worried."

"But I've been horrible to you since Gordon-" Scott couldn't even find how to finish that sentence. "I shouldn't have blamed you. Or Colonel Casey, for that matter."

"She will understand. She knows how much we're hurting, and I know she feels guilty for not doing more for dad."

"She shouldn't. She did everything she could." Scott could see that now his brain wasn't clouded by anger.

"You should be telling her this." John smiled fondly.

"I will. Later. I want to hear what their plans are next." However, Scott needed to calm down before then, so he wouldn't say anything he would regret.

"You need to also remember it's not your fault either," John added, but Scott still felt the guilt gnaw at him.

"How can I not be? How could I not have noticed any vehicles leaving the area? There weren't many around. They probably went right by me, and I didn't even know."

"If they managed to get Gordon so fast, then they knew what they were doing. Besides, you were busy getting everyone to safety. You can hardly be to blame."

"But I'm his big brother. I should have just known something was wrong." He clenched his fists, but winced when it aggravated his cuts.

"Virgil and I are his big brothers too. We also never noticed until it was too late. I mean, I was the one who sent him to that warehouse. Would you blame us too?"

"Never." That was without question.

"Then don't beat yourself up. What matters now is just getting Gordon back."

Scott supposed that was true. Here he was making this all about him, when Gordon was out there somewhere probably going through hell.

Then, John voiced what they were all thinking, but no one would admit.

"I think it's time we made it public. Maybe someone out there knows something?"

Scott knew that logically it was the best move. However, it meant that they had tried all they could and were practically admitting defeat. Not only that, they were admitting to themselves that Gordon wasn't just going to walk in one day and say it was all a prank. This was real and terrifying and their worst nightmare coming true.

The chances of someone out there knowing something when they hadn't come to them already was slim. The only people who knew anything, were the people who had taken their brother.

But also to tell the world what had happened was to tell them that they had failed one of their own, and if they were capable of that, who would ever come to them in their time of need again?

"You're right." Scott pushed those thoughts aside. Those worries were for later, because at this point what else did they have to lose. "Let's go and talk to the others about it."

This was a decision they had to make as a family, and together they had to work out their approach to tell the world their brother was missing. This was going to bring up a lot of pain, some new, and some almost a decade old. They would need to be there for each other.

John floated on his back as he looked at the walls of the ship around him. Beyond them were endless stars, filled with secrets he could never fathom.

Maybe one of them held the answers as to where Gordon was.

It had been a month.

One month, almost to the day, since Gordon had seemingly vanished. They had searched far and wide, but still were no closer to finding him. The GDF team dedicated to their case had never stopped, and neither had they.

However, it was hard to keep themselves from spiralling into a pit of despair. They needed to keep themselves distracted, which was why they continued with rescues. They didn't tackle as many as before, and most were redirected to local services to keep them all from getting too overwhelmed, but it kept them busy in the moments they had nothing else to do.

They knew that Gordon wouldn't want them to stop saving the world just because he wasn't with them, but it was still incredibly hard to keep going. Without his never-ending energy and constant beam of sunshine, everything around them just seemed dull.

It was a life that John would never want to become permanent. He didn't think he could survive with all this grey. Its cloud would suffocate them all.

He let out a deep sigh as he continued to float. He wondered if in moments like this, Gordon would be found in a similar position, but surrounded by water instead of stars.

The sound of a call came in.

With another sigh, John swiped his hand at the hologram in front of him until the call was brought up.

"International Rescue, what's your emergency?"

"International Rescue?" It was the voice of a woman. She didn't have her video up, but neither did John, not when he couldn’t provide them a comforting smile when they needed it. "My name is Maria Harper, and I think I have your missing member."

John resisted the urge to end the call right at that moment. Ever since they had told the public about Gordon, they had been receiving calls from people who had 'supposedly' seen him. After the first few calls, it had become too overwhelming, and they ended up shutting their line off for a whole week until they could face it all again.

Now, John usually just sent them straight to the GDF to handle. However, maybe it was because he was feeling extra upset about the recent milestone, but he couldn’t disconnect without saying anything.

"You think it's funny to make a prank like that? This may be a joke to you, but-”

"No. You don't understand.” She cut him off. “I'm being serious here."

John rolled his eyes. "Take it to the GDF."

His finger hovered over the button that would redirect the call, but in the split second before he pressed it, she spoke, and her next words made him freeze.

"I am Doctor Maria Harper and I work at Oregon General Hospital. I have your brother here. You need to listen to me, I'm telling the truth."

Oregon. That was where the earthquake that John had sent his brothers off to had been. At the time, he didn’t know one of them wouldn’t come back.

His hand lingered over the button, still unsure whether he should believe her. By all means, she could just have come across someone who looked enough like Gordon for her to be mistaken. It had happened before.

John didn't want to give into the hope that she was right. He had been burned too many times by false sightings, but there was a nagging feeling that wouldn’t let him ignore this. What if this really was Gordon? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he’d just turned his back on him.

Besides, a month in, he didn’t think they had much to lose at this point.

“Okay,” John relented, and really hoped he wouldn’t regret this later. “I’ll send someone to you.”

Scott’s heart hammered so hard he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. He pulled Thunderbird One to land on top of the hospital building, and then took several moments to take some deep breaths.

He was prepared for disappointment. The chances of a hospital finding Gordon so long after he went missing were slim. If he was at a hospital now, why hadn’t he gone to one sooner? There were pieces missing to this story, and it made the possibility of his brother actually being in there almost nonexistent.

That was the reason Scott had travelled to the hospital on his own. They couldn’t let the rest of their family get their hopes up only for this to be another deadend. He was sure their dad wouldn’t be able to take another disappointment.

John had come to Scott privately and had given him the details, so only the two of them knew where he was right now. But that would still be one brother who Scott would inevitably have to let down later.

Rather than prolong the experience, Scott finished off his post-flight checks and got out of the ship. The doctor who had called John said she would meet him on the roof, and so Scott wasn’t surprised when he saw her step out of the door leading to the elevator.

“Doctor Harper?” He called as he approached. “I’m Scott.”

“Hi, Scott. Let me take you to your brother.”

Scott tried to hide his grimace. If it wasn’t Gordon, then he was uncomfortable with anyone describing whoever it was as his brother.

She led him through the door and into the elevator, where she pressed a button to send them down several floors.

“When did he come in?” Scott asked her. Even if it wasn’t Gordon, he still wanted to get some information out of her on the slim chance it was.

“Last night. I only started my shift this morning, but I called as soon as I realised.”

They reached the floor they needed, and Scott followed the woman through the hallways.

“He’s only woken up once so far, just a couple hours ago before I called. He was really confused, kept muttering about something I didn’t understand, but hopefully he’ll be a bit more coherent when he sees you.”

They walked through the busy ICU, where nurses and doctors wandered from one room to another. The further they went through the hospital, the more Scott started to hope that Gordon was really here. He could picture seeing his brother’s face right in front of him, and he was only seconds away from that potentially happening.

Doctor Harper stopped in front of a door and turned to Scott. There was a window next to the door, but the blinds were closed.

Scott took a deep breath, and then sent a nod to the woman.

She nodded back, and then opened the door for him.

Scott refused to step over the threshold, but as his eyes landed on the figure in the bed, he knew instantly.

His legs carried him to the side of the bed even though his mind had gone blank. The man in front of him looked different to the one he knew, and Scott dreaded to think what he had been through all this time. But beneath the bandages and bruises, he was still Scott’s baby brother.

“Gordon.”

It was a whisper as he perched on the edge of the bed. He wanted to place his hand on his brother, to know for sure he was really there, but he didn’t know where it was safe to touch him without hurting him.

Eventually, he settled on his shoulder, and as soon as he made contact, the reaction was instant.

Gordon’s eyes flew open and darted around the room. The monitor next to him started to beep erratically as he began to panic.

“Hey, Gordon. It’s me.”

He rubbed his brother’s shoulder reassuringly, but Gordon just tried to move away from his touch.

He weakly tried to push himself back against the pillows and away from Scott, and Scott felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. What had happened to Gordon to make him act in such a way to his big brother?

“It’s just me. It’s Scott.” He let his instincts take over and he reached over to place his hand on Gordon’s head. He brushed his fingers through the slightly longer than usual locks, just like he always did to comfort one of his little brothers.

It did as he was hoping, as Gordon stilled, and then started to relax.

After several moments where they both took deep breaths, Gordon blinked, and then his eyes settled on Scott.

“Scott?” His voice was so small, and he sounded like a child.

Before Scott could say anything, Gordon launched at him with enough force to almost send him backwards.

Scott felt Gordon’s cast hit his back as he wrapped his arms around his waist. Scott was hesitant to hold him for fear of hurting him more. But then Gordon buried his face into Scott’s neck and his body started to shake as he sobbed.

Any hesitancy was gone as Scott’s big brother instincts kicked in, and he pulled Gordon closer whilst still being gentle.

“It’s okay now. I’m here,” Scott whispered into his hair as he tucked his face into Gordon’s head. “You’re safe now.”

Gordon’s body trembled in his arms and he was racked by tears. Scott felt his own start to brim in his eyes, but swallowed them down. This was not about him. He would deal with his emotions later.

His brother’s body felt so fragile in his arms. He couldn’t fathom what he had been through in the past month, and not only that, he had to go through it alone. None of them would understand.

His mind screamed at him to get answers, but that wasn’t a problem for now. All that mattered then was that Gordon was safe and back with them.

Gordon continued to sob, and he didn’t hold anything back as cries escaped his throat. Scott rubbed a hand up and down his back as he soothed his brother’s pain with all the words he could find.

Eventually, Gordon had exhausted his emotions, and his cries quietened until he sagged in Scott’s arms. Scott gently laid him back against the bed, and he adjusted his pillows and tucked the blanket around him to make sure he was comfortable.

He watched his brother for a long moment. His cheeks were tear stained, and Scott thumbed the tears away to erase his pain. No longer would he need to feel scared or alone. Scott swore he would not let anything like this happen to his brother again, and he would make whoever did this regret ever coming after his family.

Chapter Text

After Gordon had fallen asleep, Scott had contacted John and the rest of their family. It had been a whirlwind of emotions and explaining why they hadn't told them sooner, but when everyone had seen Gordon with their own eyes, all was forgiven.

Then came the sickening reality of what Gordon had been through in the past month when the doctor told them the extent of his injuries. That was only the surface of his pain, and they all knew there was much more that they wouldn't know from just his physical scars. That would have to wait until Gordon was ready to talk.

Gordon slept through it all, and it wasn't until the evening when he woke up again.

Only a couple of them were allowed in his room at a time, and when he woke up, it had been Scott and their dad.

He roused with a groan. Scott had been close to falling asleep in his chair, but the small noise jolted him awake.

He sat up straight and looked over at the bed. His dad was ahead of him, and was already leaning close to Gordon as his eyes fluttered open.

He thankfully seemed less afraid this time when he woke up. He blinked up at the man for several long moments, before his gravelly voice spoke.

"Dad?" He turned his gaze to the rest of the room. "Where's Scott?"

The slight rise of panic in his voice had Scott reaching out to gently lay his hand on Gordon's arm.

"I'm right here, Gordo." He smiled so his brother wouldn't see how his heart clenched at the way he still didn't feel safe, not even with his dad right there.

Gordon visibly relaxed when he saw him, and settled back against the pillows.

"Do you want a drink?" Their dad asked next.

Scott could see how he was disheartened by Gordon's reaction, and was trying to make up for it somehow.

Gordon nodded, and their dad stood up to grab the jug of water that had been left on the side table. He filled up a small cup with a straw, and then helped Gordon take some sips.

"How are you feeling?" Scott waited until Gordon had finished his drink and seemed a bit more settled.

Gordon didn't reply, and instead creased his brow as he thought about it. Scott and Jeff both gave him his time to come up with an answer. It was probably an overwhelming question to try and wrap his head around.

Then, his eyes widened.

"Where's Fuse?" He tried to push himself up, but Scott was quick to coax him back against the mattress.

"Fuse? What do you mean? Who's that?" Scott frowned as he looked his brother over. Maybe this was a result of the concussion, and he considered getting a doctor.

"You need to find him! He-he's all alone. I-I don't know what they're doing to him." Gordon started to get worked up and anxious again, though Scott still didn't understand why.

He sent a glance to his dad, who looked just as confused and concerned as he was.

"Gordon." Scott sat on the edge of Gordon's bed, and grasped one of his hands. "Just breathe."

Scott took slow, deep breaths, and encouraged Gordon to follow along. After a moment, he did just that, and they spent the next couple of minutes just breathing.

When Gordon had calmed down, they started from the beginning.

"Who is Fuse?"

"Fuse was ca-'' Gordon froze on the word. He swallowed and breathed deeply before he continued. "Captured along with me. He helped me get out, and I promised that if it worked, I was going to get him out too."

There was a whole lot to unpack there. Gordon had just confirmed what they all suspected, but had never known for sure. He was kidnapped, and most likely tortured based on his wounds and behaviour.

Scott had so many questions about what exactly happened this past month, and the agony of not knowing every detail of his brother's torment was killing him, but he would not force that out of Gordon right then. They had to take this step by step so as to not overwhelm him, and it seemed Gordon had decided what that first step would be.

"Alright," their dad spoke up. "I think we need to get a GDF officer in here to get all the details so they can start the search, okay?"

Gordon nodded eagerly, and then stared at their dad in expectation. Jeff realised that he was waiting for him to do something, so he stood from his chair.

"I'll make the call," he said, and then made his way out of the room.

Gordon didn't say much else as they waited for the GDF to arrive. He seemed lost in his thoughts, and a distant look passed over his face, but Scott left him to it. He didn't want to push him.

When two GDF officers arrived, Gordon seemed ready to speak, but it seemed that it was more difficult than he realised it would be.

Whether he had forgotten the details or just didn't want to think back to those dark times, he was having trouble giving them the information they needed.

"It-it was underground. I think." Gordon frowned as he clenched the sheets in his hands.

"Okay, and what did it look like?" One officer asked as he took down some notes. He was giving him an encouraging smile to keep going, but Gordon wasn't looking at him.

"Big. Really big. Endless hallways." Gordon's eyes were distant as he saw something that wasn't there. Something that none of them would ever see. "Cold."

He shivered, and pulled the sheet closer to his chest. Scott could see his hands were shaking.

The officer sent a look towards Scott and Jeff, before he went back to his notes.

"What about when you left. Do you remember what you saw?"

Gordon seemed to think about it for a moment, before he shook his head.

"It was really bumpy, and it hurt." His breathing started to pick up and he began to grow hysterical. "T-then there was a… a riv-river."

He hiccupped as tears started to spill. The sheets were in a vice grip, his knuckles white. His chest heaved as he was plagued by the memories tormenting his mind.

"I-I tried to count, but the pain was too much and I forgot where I was and-"

"Hey, hey, shh. It's okay." Scott quickly got out of his seat to pull Gordon into his arms.

Gordon didn't hug him back his time, and stayed lost in his thoughts as he continued to shake in Scott's arms.

"I think it's time we gave Gordon a break." Jeff stood from his chair and the officers followed. The next thing he said was hushed. "Scott, you got this?"

"Yeah, sure. Go." He waved the man off as he also spoke in a whisper, so a certain someone couldn't hear. He knew that his dad would feel conflicted between comforting Gordon and trying to help this case.

Jeff sent him a grateful smile as he followed the officers out of the room.

"So? Anything that could help?" Jeff turned to the officers after they had closed the door to Gordon's room.

"We'll get in touch with the driver, see where they found him and what they know," the officer who had been asking the questions said. "That, along with the information your son gave us should help us at least whittle it down, maybe even find the right location. If not, then we can come back when Gordon is feeling up for it."

"And what will you do? When you find it, I mean."

The second officer spoke. "We'll need to put together a plan before we even think about going in. If they see us coming, they could flee or do more harm to any hostages. Depending on what we can do with this information, that could take days, maybe more."

Jeff frowned. The fact that he had his son back safe and sound was enough for him, but Gordon really seemed to care about this other man he'd mentioned. If it would help with Gordon's recovery and state of mind to get him back, then he would fight tooth and nail to do just that.

Besides, this also meant they could bring justice to the monsters who thought they could do this to his son.

"Get it done as fast as you can." Jeff may not have been their commander, but he still held some rank with these men. One of the many perks of having Colonel Casey as a close friend and ally.

"Yes, sir." They both replied. Jeff made sure to shake both their hands and give them thanks for all they were doing, and then they went on their way.

Jeff then turned back to the door that held his broken son. He knew they were due a swap and soon one of his other sons would be coming to kick them out so they could take over. But before then, he needed to be there for the son who he had let down in worse ways than just being lost in space.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door once more.

After Scott had eventually managed to calm him down, Gordon fell asleep. Soon after that, Virgil and John arrived to take over for the night shift.

Jeff and Scott got them up to speed on everything that had happened and all the information they had so far. There were still a lot of missing pieces, as to what had happened to Gordon and how he'd gotten out of there, but they were pieces they may never fill. If they did, then that would be down to Gordon.

The night was fairly uneventful. Gordon woke up a couple of times, and at first was confused when he saw that his dad and Scott had been replaced by his two other older brothers, but it didn't take him long to get settled again.

They tried to get him to eat something at breakfast, but he claimed he still felt too nauseous and instead slept for most of the day.

By the time the hospital was serving dinner, Gordon was a bit more awake and aware, so they managed to convince him to eat some toast.

Currently, Alan had placed his tablet on the table across Gordon's bed, and had put on one of their favourite childhood movies. They were both engrossed in it as Gordon munched on his toast. Alan kept making comments on what was happening in the film, whilst Gordon was just content to watch.

Jeff watched them both fondly. After everything that had happened, not just with Gordon but also after his time in space, it was so nice to just spend time with his boys. He would have preferred it to be under better circumstances, but now they were all together again, that was all that mattered.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jeff turned in his seat to see one of the officers he had spoken to last night at the door. He gestured at him to step outside, so without alerting his sons, Jeff slipped out of the room.

"What have you got?" Jeff cut to the chase. He knew the man wouldn't have come back so soon if he didn't have anything.

"We think we have the location."

"So soon?" Jeff was sceptical to trust them when it had only been a day.

The man nodded, and pulled out a tablet.

"We spoke to the driver and found where they hit your son."

Jeff grimaced. With everything going on, he had almost forgotten that amongst it all, Gordon had been involved in a car accident.

"We found the river that your son had mentioned and, assuming he swam downstream, we followed it up until we could find any underground structure that Gordon could have been talking about."

He pulled up a map on the tablet, and showed Jeff the river he was talking about. It travelled through a forest, but Jeff couldn't see anything else.

"At first, our records showed nothing but forests that went on for miles. People tend to only go around those parts to camp, hike, or use the roads to come in from Idaho."

He started to flick through the tablet until he found what he was looking for next.

"So, then we started to look through our old records, to see if we could find anything that may have been lost or erased from them. Still, nothing could be found near this river, until I remembered what Gordon said."

Jeff thought back to the small bits of information Gordon was able to offer, trying to think of what the man meant.

"He said it was bumpy when he left, which I think means he left in a car or another vehicle. So, we widened our search a bit, and then we found it."

He turned the tablet back to Jeff. It showed the blueprints of a building, and it took him a moment to realise what he was looking at.

"A bunker?"

"Yeah," the man nodded. "It was built during the Global Conflict. Was never actually used and ended up being abandoned, and soon any memory of it was gone. It would explain how someone has been operating out of it for a stretch of time with no one knowing about it."

"And you're sure this is it?" Jeff asked, not willing to hope just yet.

"We won't know until we infiltrate it, which is why I wanted to give you a heads up now and not inform your whole family just yet."

Jeff was glad for that. No need to give Gordon hope and then let him down later.

"But it's in the right area, close enough to the river for them to take your son there, and for him to make his way to the spot the driver found him. There's also a dirt road to it which leads off the main road, which is likely how they get in and out." As he spoke, he showed all of this to Jeff on the map again.

"When are you going to head in?" He asked after he had taken it all in.

"We're putting a plan together right now." The man lowered the tablet and turned fully to Jeff. "We don't want to rush into it, and we think it will be better to do it at night. All being well, we'll set off tomorrow evening."

Jeff would have liked it to be sooner. He did not like the idea of the people who had hurt his son being able to just walk around freely. He also couldn't stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong by then, such as what if the group fled the bunker by tomorrow and they were too late? This might not even be the right place.

However, Jeff knew he would just have to suffer and wait. The GDF knew what they were doing, and he would just make it worse trying to get them to move faster.

"You'll keep me updated?" Jeff asked, and the man was quick to nod.

"Yes, sir."

Jeff nodded in response, pleased, and went to head back to his sons. But before he did, he still had one last thing to say.

"Thank you." He meant it. These men had no reason to work this hard to help his family, but they were doing it anyway. He couldn't be more grateful.

The other man seemed surprised at the gratitude for a moment, but then he smiled, before he went on his way.

"What was that about?" Alan asked in a hushed tone as soon as he stepped back into the room.

Jeff wondered why he was being so quiet, until he noticed that Gordon had fallen asleep. He fortunately seemed to have finished his toast, but the plate was still on his lap.

Alan picked it up and put it on the table next to the tablet, before he went to pause the movie.

"Just some updates about the investigation. Nothing useful yet."

Alan eyed him up for a long moment. He didn't seem like he believed him, but rather than ask him about it any further, he relented.

"Alright." He picked the tablet up and distracted himself whilst he waited for his brother to wake up again.

Jeff allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts as he went over everything the officer had said. He really hoped everything went to plan, as it would be instrumental to Gordon's recovery.

If there was one word that Gordon could use to summarise how he felt, it would be awful. His head throbbed, his whole body ached, he was exhausted, and he felt nauseous. The doctors said that was either a result from the infection, concussion, or all the medication he was on.

Gordon suspected it was all of the above.

He was getting tired of sleeping all the time, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He didn't know where this exhaustion was coming from. He didn't feel so tired before he woke up at the hospital, but now he did nothing but sleep.

However, he was slowly managing to stay awake for longer at a time, but that had its own consequences. It meant he had to endure the pain that made itself known all over his body. Even with the painkillers, it wasn't erased completely.

He had taken a peek at his injuries when the nurse had come in to change his bandages. His leg looked better than it had before, but was still gnarly and would most definitely leave a scar.

Just one more to add to the list.

That was all just how he felt physically. He couldn't even begin to unpack what was going on in his mind, but if he pressed too hard at those thoughts, he felt something grip his heart and suck the breath out of his lungs.

It was just easier to just push it all away.

Right now, his focus was on Fuse. He couldn't rest until he knew the man was safe. It wasn't fair that Gordon was back with his family, when Fuse was still going through all that pain.

He constantly asked for updates throughout the day. He knew it had only been a couple of days, even though it felt like much more, but every moment that passed was another moment that Fuse could be going through pain.

Then the morning came. Virgil was sitting with him whilst he ate breakfast. He felt like he could stomach a bit more than just toast now.

However, he had pushed aside the bowl of porridge he was given. It made him sick just to think about it, and instead, he was enjoying the sweetness of the little pot of jello.

He was just wondering if he could convince Virgil to go and steal him some more, when his dad came into the room.

The man had been seeming antsy all morning, until he got a phone call which made him leave the room. He had been gone for a long while, and Gordon wondered what was going on, but wasn't sure if he had the energy to ask.

But then he didn't think he'd have to ask, as Colonel Casey followed their dad into the room.

"Hi, Gordon." She smiled as she came over to his bed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." Gordon put the empty pot and spoon on the table. He could sense this wasn't just a friendly visit, and the woman was here for more than just to see how he was doing.

She sent a look to his dad, and Gordon could feel his heart start to race.

"What is it?"

His dad came over to sit on the edge of the bed, and Gordon tried to search his eyes to find out what this was all about.

"The GDF found the place that you were being held," he eventually said.

"What?" Gordon sat up straighter, but winced as the abrupt movement pulled at his injuries.

"Careful." Jeff waited a moment for Gordon's pain to dull before he continued. "They infiltrated it last night, and-"

"They found Fuse?" Gordon looked hopefully up at Colonel Casey.

"Is this him?" She handed over a tablet and Gordon grasped it in his good hand.

The face peering up at him was the same one he had spent all of the past month with, and Gordon's heart leapt.

"Can I go see him?"

He went to push the blankets off, but was stopped by both his brother and dad placing their hands on him.

"No, son. You're not going anywhere just yet."

"What if he comes here?" He turned to Virgil in the hopes his brother would be easier to push over.

It seemed he wasn't, as he shook his head.

"You still have an infection and need to take it easy. Maybe later."

Gordon couldn't help but take note of the maybe.

"There's just one more thing." Colonel Casey added, and she seemed reluctant to say whatever it was she was going to say next. "We need you to identify the suspects, so we can confirm we have arrested the right people."

She reached over to the tablet and swiped away the photo of Fuse until a photo of another man appeared.

His features were familiar, and it took Gordon a moment to place them.

Then it hit him.

He could see the man holding a knife above him as he made continuous slashes across Gordon's body.

He swiped the photo away, and another mugshot came up.

He remembered the gleeful smiles and laughter as water was forced down his throat and nostrils.

He couldn't breathe.

The next face he saw in flashes as he was beaten again and again. He saw it between fists that hit his face and made him see stars.

There was a vice around his throat.

"Do you recognise any of them?"

Gordon nodded shakily, his words gone.

He swiped again. His body was hit by electricity that burned every fibre of his being.

A fist in his chest squeezed his heart.

"Gordon?"

His back was on fire. Shadows danced in his vision. Blooded pounded in his ears, but couldn't drown out the thunderous laughter that echoed around him as he was hit over and over and-

The tablet was ripped from his hands.

Gordon blinked. His vision was blurry with tears.

"That's enough for now."

Gordon looked up to find Virgil standing as he held the tablet out for Colonel Casey. She took it from him, but sent a sympathetic look down at Gordon.

Gordon dipped his head and wiped at his tears. He heard the door close, and then it was silent.

Someone grasped his hand, and he looked over to see Virgil was back in his seat.

His brother didn't say anything, and just squeezed his hand to remind him he was there.

Gordon squeezed his hand back, albeit weakly, and sunk back into the pillows as he let his emotions wash over him.

Chapter Text

Gordon stared up at the ceiling. He was beginning to feel restless, staring at these same white walls everyday.

He wasn't allowed to go anywhere. He was forced to stay in his room and rest.

It wasn't all that different from his cell.

But he couldn't blame his family for that. They did their best to keep him company and keep him entertained. Alan would watch movies with him and John would read to him, even if he ended up falling asleep a lot of the time.

The slight change in scenery did help for a short while as well. He had been moved out of the ICU the day before, which he supposed was good as it meant he was heading in the right direction. But that wore off after the first day when he realised it was all the same. Loud machines, a bed that was only just passable as comfortable, and unable to go anywhere.

So, now he was trying to find something to distract himself and pass the time, but all he really wanted was to go and see Fuse.

There was this gnawing sense of anxiety that just wouldn't go away. He needed to see the man. He needed to know he was okay.

He needed to know that he was really here and his family weren't just lying to him.

No one would let him go though. He tried to convince them, but they were too worried about him pushing himself. They just didn't realise what it was doing to him by not letting him go.

"I'm gonna go grab a coffee."

Virgil's voice startled him out of his thoughts. Gordon had forgotten he was even there.

"Want anything?"

Gordon just shook his head. What he really wanted, they wouldn't give him.

"I'll be ten minutes tops."

Gordon watched him go, and then an idea formed in his head. Ten minutes?

He waited a few moments just to make sure he was in the clear, and then he pushed the blankets aside.

One by one, he swung a leg over the side of the bed. He already felt himself sweating.

When he was sitting on the side of the bed, he placed his feet on the floor, and grabbed onto the IV stand. With a deep breath, he pulled himself up.

He grit his teeth to keep from crying out as weight was put on his injured leg. He waited a moment to get used to the fresh pains that made themselves known, and then he moved.

He had been issued a pair of hospital slippers, which he slipped his feet into, and then began to make his way out of the room.

It was slow going. He used the IV stand as a crutch, and leaned on it heavily as he pushed it along. His other hand was wrapped around his sore ribs.

He only had ten minutes. Virgil couldn't catch him before he'd made it to his destination.

He limped to the door. He glanced out into the hallway, but there were so many people bustling about, he didn't think anyone would notice him leaving when he shouldn't be.

It was slow going. Every step was painful, and he had to pause to take a breath between each one. Black spots danced in his vision, and he knew the stand was all that was keeping him upright.

It wasn't until he was halfway down the hallway when he realised he didn't actually know where Fuse's room was. He stopped to catch his breath and wait for his head to stop spinning, and then looked around.

A nurse was just coming out of a room nearby. She closed the door behind her, but not before Gordon caught sight of who was in the room.

Gordon waited until she had disappeared down the corridor, before he made a beeline to the door.

When he reached it, he wasn’t sure what to do. It didn’t feel right to just barge in there, but when he lifted his hand to knock, he hesitated. What if Fuse didn’t want to see him? What if he was mad Gordon didn’t get help to him sooner?

His grip shook on the stand. If he didn’t go in there, then he would need to head back to his room. He looked back down the way he’d come, and it seemed so far. He didn’t think he could make it all the way back again.

So, before he could change his mind, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

He heard a voice on the other side saying that he could come in, so Gordon pushed the door open.

Any nerves he felt were gone the moment he saw the figure on the bed. It was really him, and when he saw it was Gordon standing at the door, his face lit up.

“Gordon?” Fuse grinned and sat up straighter.

“Hi.” Gordon waved as he smiled back, and then limped into the room.

“Woah, you look way worse than when I last saw you." Fuse scanned his eyes over Gordon.

Gordon looked down at himself, and remembered he didn't have a cast or so many bandages on him when he last saw Fuse.

“I got hit by a car." He barely remembered it, besides seeing a bright light, and his family had to tell him about it.

“Wait, seriously?" Fuse said as Gordon made it over to the seat next to his bed, and eased himself into it. His limbs breathed a sigh of relief when he took the pressure off them. "Should you even be in here right now?"

"You don't look much better," Gordon teased as he cast his gaze over the other man.

Fuse's arm was in a sling, which Gordon noted was the one he had dislocated before. He had bruises and cuts on his face, and bandages over his other arm.

"What happened after I got out?" He had been wondering it for days, if Fuse had been punished for Gordon getting away or if things went back to normal.

"They seemed kinda annoyed that you 'died'." He made air quotes with his hands. "They hit a little harder than usual to get their frustrations out."

Gordon made a face at that. He knew they wouldn't be happy that he was no longer there to be another punching bag, and had worried that they'd take that out on Fuse.

"But they didn't let on that they knew you were alive. I still didn't know if the plan had even worked, and if it did, that they hadn't buried you alive or something."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get help to you sooner. I tried to give them all the information I had as soon as I could, but-"

"Hey, don't sweat it." Fuse waved him off with his arm that wasn't in a sling. "We got out, didn't we?"

He gave him a crooked grin, and Gordon huffed out as much of a laugh as his ribs would allow.

They actually were free. None of Gordon's worries would change that.

The television in the corner of Fuse's room had been playing on a low volume, and Fuse turned his gaze towards it.

“I didn’t know you were a part of International Rescue."

Gordon also turned to look at the screen. The news was on, and as the reporter spoke, a photo of Gordon in his uniform appeared next to them.

Gordon couldn't hear what was being said, but they were clearly talking about Gordon's return, based on the tagline at the bottom of the screen.

"Guess that explains why you knew all that medical stuff," Fuse muttered in amusement.

Gordon groaned. “Can you turn that off?”

He knew his family had made his case public, and that it was likely what led him to being reunited with them so quickly, but he still wasn't a fan of his face being plastered everywhere when it was tied to something so painful for them all.

Without question, Fuse shut the television off, and they were left sitting in silence. The silence stretched on for several moments, before it was broken.

“Why did you save me?”

Gordon was startled by the sudden words, and he watched Fuse in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

"I've been thinking. You could have just left me there." Fuse was quiet and his voice was smaller than Gordon had ever heard it. He was looking down at the sheets as he fiddled with them between his fingers. "You know what kind of things I did, I’m a bad person. I’m surprised you didn’t just leave me behind as punishment.”

Gordon couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could Fuse think of himself in such a way?

"What are you talking about?" He sat up. “I wouldn’t leave anyone to stay at a place like that if I could help it. And you’re not a bad person, Fuse, you just made some bad choices. You’ve suffered enough." He paused, and then smiled. "Although, maybe you should try a different career choice now?" He joked to try and lighten the mood.

It worked, as Fuse let out a light huff.

“Trust me, I’m not going to do anything like that again." He seemed to think about it for a moment, before he smirked. "Maybe I'll get a job in a coffee shop or something. I think I can deal with angry customers after dealing with criminals.”

Gordon laughed. “I can see that.”

Fuse's smile was only present for a moment, before his face grew serious again.

“First, though, I’m going to look for my sister." He met Gordon's gaze, and Gordon could see the determination in his eyes. "She would probably like to know I'm not actually dead."

He had no doubt Fuse would find her.

"If you need any help, just let me know." Gordon knew that with the help of his family and the GDF, they would make sure the pair was reunited.

"Thank you."

"It's no trouble," Gordon began to wave him off, but Fuse stopped him.

"Not just for that, or for rescuing me." Fuse shook his head, and Gordon could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. "Thank you for everything you did for me in there. I had given up hope I would ever get out, but you gave that back to me. You helped me survive. I don't know where I would be right now if it wasn't for you."

Gordon felt his heart swell. He hadn't done anything for thanks. He only did what was right. But to hear Fuse's appreciation, it let him know that it was right.

"Thank you for helping me too." He spoke through the lump in his throat. "I never would have got through my time there without you. You were able to let me keep on hoping."

Fuse clearly needed to give himself more credit and see he was worth more than just someone who needed to be hurt.

"You think you're a bad person, but I never saw anyone other than someone who wanted to help. That's why I saved you."

Fuse wiped away a stray tear.

"No one has ever said anything like that to me before." He then chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "You're certainly something else."

Gordon grinned. "You better get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," Virgil smiled at the woman behind the counter as she handed his coffee over.

As he turned to the rest of the cafeteria, he stretched his neck to get the kinks out. Those hospital seats were starting to get uncomfortable and his body was beginning to rebel. Gordon's recovery was going in the right direction, so hopefully it wouldn't be long before he was discharged.

The cafeteria was busy as visitors and staff grabbed something to eat or drink. Virgil was going to head straight back to Gordon's room, but stopped when he saw two familiar faces at one of the tables.

"Hey, guys." Virgil approached the table where his brother and dad were sitting. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Just thought we'd grab a drink before we came up to see Gordon," his dad replied. "How is he doing today?"

Virgil huffed in amusement as he took a sip of his coffee.

"I think he's getting bored. Won't stop asking when he can go and see Fuse." He took another sip as he grimaced. "I feel bad, but… I don't know. I don't like the idea of Gordon seeing someone who's practically a stranger right now."

Even if Gordon knew him, the rest of them knew basically nothing about the man.

"No, I get it." Scott nodded in agreement. "After everything that's happened, I can't help but want to protect him more."

His brother couldn't be more right there.

"I should get back to him. I said I'd only take ten minutes." Virgil glanced at his watch and found that twenty minutes had passed so far. He could blame that on the long line he'd had to wait in just to order.

"We'll head up with you." His dad and Scott finished off their drinks, and then together they made their way back to Gordon's room.

They were just heading through the corridor when they caught a familiar face bustling past them.

"Colonel Casey?" Jeff called out to her.

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to them. She had a look of worry on her face.

"Jeff. I was just coming to find you."

"What is it?" Their dad picked up on her worry, as Virgil could see the concerned crease of his face. "Have you found anything more about Gordon's case?"

"Actually, yes. We've identified the suspects, and it turns out they've been on the police's radar for quite some time."

"What do you mean by that?" Virgil frowned. He had a feeling he wouldn't like where this was going.

"We've been aware of their… operation for some time now," she said carefully. "The police did all they could to shut it down, but this crew somehow managed to always stay just out of reach. Even with the GDF's help, they couldn't be found. Not until now."

"Are you saying this all could have been prevented? They could have been arrested sooner!"

"Dad." Scott warned as he put a hand on the man's arm, to calm him down and remind him they were in public.

Jeff took a deep breath, but Virgil could tell he was struggling to keep control.

"It's not that easy, Jeff." Colonel Casey seemed pained to say it. "You of all people know there are bad people out there that are too good at staying out of our reach."

Jeff finally deflated as those words hit way too close to home. That was something they all knew all too well.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have protected your family sooner." Her voice was regretful, like it was carrying the weight of something much more than just this. "The good news, however, is that all the proof we already have on them, including what they did to Gordon to Fuse, means that they will be put away for a long, long time."

Although that was good to hear, Virgil watched her carefully. There was something about the way she spoke that told him this was not the entire reason she had come here.

"There's something else."

It was not a question from Virgil, it was a demand to tell them what she also knew. Either she was hiding something from them, or she just didn't want to say it.

Colonel Casey turned to him, and then her face became a mixture of sympathy and guilt.

He knew it.

"As we already had records of the members of this crew, we were able to identify them all to be sure none of them were missing or had gotten away," she explained, and Virgil started to sense where this was going. "Unfortunately, there was one missing. The leader. Rowan Banks."

"What?" Despite Scott's earlier attempts at calming their dad down, it seemed that it didn't also apply to him as his voice rose in volume.

"We are doing everything we can to track him down, but-"

"I don't like this." Virgil couldn't shake the sudden feeling of dread and the need to get back to his brother. He needed to know he was safe.

He made his way past the woman and headed in the direction of Gordon's room. He could hear the others right behind him as they hurried down the busy corridors.

When they reached Gordon's room, the door was ajar, and Virgil worried his fears were coming true.

That only seemed to be confirmed after he pushed the door open.

His coffee fell to the floor, forgotten, as he laid his eyes on the empty bed.

"Where is he?" Jeff was alarmed as he stepped into the empty room beside Virgil.

Virgil looked at the blankets that had been pushed to the side. His first dreadful thought was that Gordon had been taken again. But then he noticed the missing IV stand, and realisation dawned.

"I know where he is," he said as he pushed his way back out of the room.

Gordon and Fuse were enjoying their time catching up and forgetting everything else that was going on around them, but they knew it wouldn't last for long.

It was inevitable when the door to Fuse's room opened. Gordon was ready for the reprimand his brothers were going to give him for sneaking out, but was hoping they'd go easy on him given the circumstances.

He twisted in his chair to look over at the door, but it was not any of his family standing there.

"Hello, boys." The leader of the crew stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "I wouldn't call for help if I were you."

He pulled out a pistol from his waistband. This time, Gordon didn't think it was a bluff.

Without thinking, he shot out of his seat. All his mind was telling him was to protect Fuse. His body protested his movements, but as soon as he saw that man again, adrenaline took over.

He stood in front of the bed, between Fuse and the man.

"What do you want?" He felt himself shaking, either from fear or weak limbs, but he wouldn't let the man see that. He would stand his ground for as long as he needed.

"Oh, I don't know." The man seemed thoughtful as he tapped the gun against his chin carelessly. "Maybe payback for ruining my business and my life."

"You did that to yourself." Gordon didn't know what he was doing. He knew there was no reasoning with this man, but maybe he could stall long enough until he could think of a way to get help. "You're not getting away from this."

"Oh, I know that." The man pulled the gun back as the safety was slid off. "But I might as well take you two down with me. Starting with the one who thought he could make a fool out of me by pretending to be dead."

The gun was aimed directly at Gordon, and his mind was screaming at him to do something. He just didn't know what.

Why was he here? He was meant to be locked away. They were meant to finally be safe.

"Say goodbye."

This was really just going to be it. After everything he had been through, the lengths to get away, he was going to die because he couldn't get his stupid feet to move.

Then there was a noise. It took Gordon a moment to realise it wasn't a gunshot.

Someone came through the door.

The man's attention was divided for just a moment.

It was enough for Gordon to act.

He leapt forward at the man and grabbed the gun. A shot went off, but by then, Gordon had forced the gun towards the ceiling.

The man had gotten over his distraction, but by then it was too late. He managed to push Gordon with enough force to send him to the floor with a clatter, before he was tackled to the ground himself.

Gordon's energy was spent, so he couldn't brace himself before he hit the floor. He cried out as he felt a sharp pain in both his leg and his arm, and his breath was stolen as shards attacked his lungs.

He panted as he laid on the ground, waiting for everything to stop spinning.

He heard muffled words as something swam above him. He blinked a few times, until Scott's face came into view.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he scanned his eyes over Gordon.

Gordon lifted his arm to wave him off, but caught sight of the bright scarlet that coated his skin.

"Oh."

"You're bleeding!" Scott stated the obvious as he gently pulled Gordon's arm towards him.

Gordon noted that there was once an IV line attached to that arm, and then he realised what that loud clatter had been.

Gordon sat up, despite his brother's protests, to see what was happening.

Virgil was sitting on the back of the crew leader, twisting his arms behind him so he couldn't move. Gordon went to look further around the room, but was blocked by his dad suddenly appearing in front of him.

"You're hurt," his dad said, despite that already being addressed.

"Jus' the IV," Gordon brushed off, but his dad shook his head.

"No, your stitches."

Gordon frowned, and looked down at his leg, where bandages peeked out from beneath his shorts.

The once white bandage was contrasted by the growing red patch.

"Oh," Gordon mumbled. He was starting to feel like a broken record.

"Let's get you seen to."

His dad and brother looped an arm around him and helped him stand. A wheelchair was in front of them. When did that appear?

They deposited him into the chair, before he was whizzed away. He didn't see what had happened to the leader, but he knew his family wouldn't let him go this time.

He was gone too fast to speak to Fuse, but knowing he was okay was enough for Gordon in that moment.

Chapter Text

Gordon's eyes burst open.

His chest heaved as whatever dream he'd just woken from drifted away, gone from the depths of his mind as he was brought back to the world of consciousness.

He blinked as he glanced around, expecting to see his hospital room.

However, what he saw was a flickering old bulb that illuminated concrete walls.

No.

"Finally awake?" A familiar voice spoke.

No no no.

"Let's get started then."

Gordon looked over to find that same greasy, skinny man leant over him with a knife.

"No." His voice was a whisper. He tried to move, but there were hands on his wrists and ankles, pinning him to the floor.

"Relax. This'll be over with soon," he chuckled as he moved the blade closer to his skin.

"No!" Gordon was louder now as he thrashed and writhed, but it was still to no avail.

He screamed as the cold blade pierced his skin and started to carve.

"Hold still," the man's words were venomous as he dug his bony fingers into Gordon's chest and forced him down.

Another line was carved across his abdomen, and tears sprang in his eyes.

"Please-"

It was cut off by another cry as the blade dug deeper.

How was he back here? He was meant to be safe. He was meant to finally be back with his family.

A sinking feeling filled his gut. Could it have all been a dream? Could he never have left in the first place?

The blade made another carve, and Gordon resisted against the hands pinning him down as his body fought to be released from the pain.

"S-stop," he whimpered, the tears now flooding down his cheeks. "Please…"

No one listened to him as the knife made continuous marks across his skin. It was like something was being written on him, something to make him never forget what was being done to him.

The slice of the blade never ended, and Gordon shuddered beneath the knife. The world started to spin, and he shut his eyes to make it stop, to make it all stop-

With a gasp, he woke up.

He was back in the hospital room. The lights were dimmed to signify the fact that it was night.

His heart continued to hammer in his chest. A snore to his left startled him, and he looked over to find Virgil was fast asleep in his chair. His arms were crossed and his head was tipped back, completely out of it as snores emitted from his open mouth.

Gordon didn't want to disturb him, so he rolled over to face the other side of the room.

His breath still wouldn't come back to him. If anything, it got worse. He felt like he couldn't get away from that place. If his eyes were open or closed, he could see it. It pressed at the edges of his mind and flooded his ears. He constantly felt the pain against his body.

He was meant to be safe. He was meant to finally be free of that place. He was meant to be protected and nothing like that was ever meant to happen to him again.

He was so wrong to believe that. He was so wrong to trust that he would ever be free.

He would never be able to get away from there.

His collar suddenly felt too tight, and he pulled it away from his neck, but it did nothing to help his breathlessness. He pulled the sheets closer as he shivered, and squeezed his eyes shut to will the world to just go away.

A hand on his shoulder had him leaping upright in the bed, which was immediately regretted by the shards of pain he felt. If he wasn't already struggling to breathe, then that surely would have stolen his breath.

Right. Breathing. He needed to breathe.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, and then looked over to see who the culprit of his fright was.

"Sorry." Virgil seemed sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck, but then his older brother instincts took over as his brows knitted together. "You seemed worried. Did something happen?"

Gordon didn't know what it was. If it was Virgil's concerned eyes or his comforting voice, or just everything that was so familiar with him that let Gordon know he was there and would do anything to protect him. Whatever it was, it opened the floodgates.

"I thought I would never get out." He had barely started before tears began to fall. "No matter how much I hoped I would be rescued. No matter how many times I tried to come up with an escape. I thought that was it for me."

Virgil had quickly sat down on his bed next to him. He was quiet as he let Gordon speak, but he placed his hand on Gordon's knee to ground him.

"Everyday I was left to go through nothing but pain. Tortured until I had to pretend to be dead just to get out." He hiccupped and continued to shake as he took erratic breaths. "But it feels like I never got out. It feels like I keep reliving it again and again. I thought I had finally escaped. There is no escape."

He broke down as sobs fully took over his body, and he buried his face in his hands.

"Hey, hey, you're out now." Virgil pulled him into his side. "I promise. You will never go back there again."

Virgil wrapped his arms around him and Gordon buried himself into his chest. Virgil's arms swallowed him up from the awful world and created a shield around him. They warned everything that could harm him to even dare try whilst he was around.

"No one will ever hurt you like that again. We will make sure of it."

His words were a blanket of comfort that settled over Gordon as he continued to cry. Later, he would know that Virgil was right. His family would help him through this pain.

For now, though, he just needed to get it all out.

"I think it's time he comes home."

They were in the hotel room they'd booked out for the past week or so. None of them wanted to be too far from Gordon, not after what they'd been through the past month.

They also knew that Gordon wouldn't want them to be too far either. Which was why Virgil was making this suggestion.

"His infection is basically cleared, and everything else we can monitor with the equipment we have at the island. I think it will be better for him to be somewhere familiar where he feels safe."

Virgil shuddered at the reminder of the conversation he'd had with his brother the night before. Gordon clearly didn't feel safe at the hospital, especially not after the incident a couple of days ago. He hoped that the change would help his recovery and not set him back.

"I agree," Jeff nodded firmly. "Gordon would benefit more from being at home. It will also do us good to get a proper rest in our own beds."

"I already spoke to his doctor. She said he is fit enough for the journey, and since he's not in the ICU anymore, there is not much to do now than wait for him to heal."

"Physically, at least," Scott murmured, and Virgil knew his brother couldn't be more right.

"Which brings me onto my next point. We should contact his therapist again."

They had all been through therapy at some point in their lives, some more than others. It was the only way they could survive some of the things they'd been through.

"He needs to talk to someone about what he went through, and I know we want it to be us, but it can't be, not if we want him to do it in a healthy way. He can talk to us about it when he's ready. Until then, he can't bottle it up."

Virgil had seen only the start of that the night before. Gordon's emotions were building up and his trauma was catching up to him. If he didn't have an outlet to work through it all, then it could break him.

The rest of his family were quick to agree with his ideas, and together they started to piece together the next steps to help Gordon through his recovery.

Gordon couldn't help the sinking feeling as he stared into the mirror.

It was the first time he'd been given the time to get a good look at himself. His bruises were fading and his cuts were healing, but his scars would be there for a while.

He'd pulled his shirt up and turned around to get a look at his back in the mirror. Thick, pink lines stretched across the skin, and just looking at them made him remember the pain he felt the day he'd gotten them.

The doctors had given him a special cream that was meant to help the scars fade and the skin to regenerate. It wouldn't completely get rid of the bigger ones, but he supposed it was foolish to try and erase them all. Afterall, he would never get rid of the scars etched into his heart.

With a sigh, he dropped his shirt and grabbed the crutch he had leant against the sink. Now that he was actually allowed to be on his feet, he had been given something better than an IV stand to hold onto.

He was still slow going, what with how he needed to build the strength up in his arm again, so it took him a moment just to make his way out of the bathroom.

Scott was in his room, packing up Gordon's things whilst they waited for Virgil to show up and take him home, where the rest of the family were waiting.

Home. There was a moment when Gordon didn't think he would ever see it again.

However, as much as he wanted to go back to the island, he still had some unfinished business here he needed to take care of first.

"Hey, Scott?"

"Hmm?" His brother looked up from the duffle bag on the bed.

"I want to say goodbye to Fuse. Also, do you have a pen?"

It didn't take much to convince his brother, except this time he insisted on escorting Gordon down the hallway, and said he'd be waiting outside the door until he was done.

Gordon couldn't blame him, not after what had happened the last time he had gone to visit the other man. Honestly, Gordon was grateful for him to be standing guard.

When he entered the room, Fuse wasn't in his bed. Instead, he was in the armchair next to the window, watching the midday sun.

"Hey, you're out of bed!" Gordon smiled when he saw him.

The light was making him look a lot better after he hadn't been exposed to sunlight in nearly a year. He was still banged up, but he was sitting straighter and appeared refreshed after a proper meal and a good night's sleep.

"Yep!" Fuse grinned, and stood up as Gordon made his way over to him. "Doc says it probably won't be long until I'm discharged."

"That's great!" Gordon's smile stretched wider, but faltered when he remembered what he needed to say. "I'm… actually going home today."

"I know."

Gordon furrowed his brow, trying to work out how that was possible. He himself had only found out the day before.

"How?"

Fuse scratched the back of his head with the hand that wasn't still in a sling, and chuckled.

"I had a visit yesterday, from your brother? Tall, brown hair?"

"Scott." Gordon rolled his eyes and glanced over at the door, to who was on the other side. "That doesn't surprise me."

"That wasn't all he told me. He also thanked me, for looking after you and making sure you got out alive."

Gordon was honestly a little stunned at that. He shouldn't have been surprised that Scott would say such a thing, but it was more the fact that he had snuck here to say it to Fuse. Maybe Gordon was looking too deeply into it, but he hadn't gotten the impression that his brothers liked Fuse after they hadn't allowed Gordon to go and see him. It was a ridiculous theory, afterall they hadn't even met the guy, but it was still a shock to know Scott had snuck here without him knowing.

But that shock soon turned into warmth as he was reminded once more how much his family truly cared about him.

"I see why you never gave up on them. They really care about you."

He was smiling, but Gordon could tell it didn't quite reach his eyes. Now, he knew why.

He fished into the pocket in his shorts and pulled out a piece of paper, which he handed to Fuse.

"Here is my number. Please stay in touch, and don't hesitate to contact me if you need help tracking down your sister."

Gordon could tell how much she meant to Fuse. He also knew how much of a support his family had been, and would be, and Fuse needed someone like that to be there for him after all he had been through.

"I also gave you the contact details for Colonel Casey. You probably met her, she's from the GDF. She'll help you get set up somewhere new. Coffee shop, right?"

He laughed, but Fuse just shook his head solemnly.

"This is too much." He held the paper back out to Gordon.

"It's not enough for what you've done for me. You said we were in this together? That doesn't just stop because we're out."

He pushed the piece of paper back towards Fuse. This time, the other man didn't try to hand it back. He stared down at it, before a small, sincere smile crept onto his face and he nodded.

"Alright."

Gordon was glad. He didn't want to lose touch with Fuse, not after everything they had been through together. He needed to know the other man was taking care of himself, and was safe.

"I'm gonna miss you," he said as he suddenly launched himself at the other man.

He wrapped his arms around him, mindful of both their injuries. It was going to be strange seeing Fuse everyday and then be miles away from him as Gordon headed back home. No one was going to know what Gordon was going through like Fuse.

Fuse didn't hug him back straight away. In fact, he tensed up at the touch, and Gordon feared he had crossed some sort of boundary.

He went to pull away, but then he abruptly felt himself be pulled closer as Fuse wrapped his arm around him as well.

"I'll miss you too."

They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other tightly. They were reluctant to step away, but Gordon could sense that Scott would be getting antsy and would come in there soon.

"Keep in touch?" He said as they pulled apart.

"Of course. You'll soon get sick of me," Fuse laughed.

"Never."

There were tears in both their eyes, but this wasn't goodbye. It was the start of the next chapter.

The journey home was quick to Gordon, and that was because he slept for the whole journey. As soon as he was settled in his seat, he was out, and only woke up when they landed on the runway.

The nap had given him some energy, so even though his family tried to convince him to head to his room, or at the very least get comfortable on the couch, Gordon wasn't having any of it.

As much as he liked the idea of being home, the reality was different to the theory. There were a lot of people at once, and he needed to get used to the change from the hospital.

The beeping machines had been replaced by worried family members hovering over him even worse than before, especially without the visitor limit. It was best to just get away from it for a bit.

"I'm going down to the beach."

He knew they wouldn't be happy with it, but he couldn't just sneak down there without letting them know. They would worry themselves to death if he disappeared again, and Gordon didn't want to put them through that.

That being said, he wasn't taking no for an answer. He wasn't asking them if he could go, he was telling them so they knew where he would be.

They unsurprisingly tried to stop him, but Gordon continued on his single crutch in the direction of his favourite beach. A determined Gordon was someone too hard to beat, so eventually he made it out onto the patio.

He couldn't help but cast a glance at the pool. It had been so long since he'd felt the water slide against his skin, and he ached to just jump straight in, so much so that his limbs physically hurt with the desire.

But he couldn't, not yet. Doctor's orders.

With a sigh, he continued past until he found the trail. It was cumbersome to navigate with a crutch, and he couldn't even have two of them, not with his broken arm.

He just had to make do, and try to not let it get caught on a rock and send him tumbling.

Eventually, he made it down to the beach. Shoes were kicked off immediately, and it was like something happened as soon as his toes hit the sand.

A weight was gone from his shoulders, like the beach itself had pulled it off him and sucked it below.

He breathed easier.

Gordon continued along the sand, even more eager now, as he made his way closer to the sea.

The tide lapped at the beach slowly, calling for him.

He only got close enough to get his feet wet. If he went any further, he would be too tempted to just submerge, maybe never to return.

It was enough, though. The water ran over his feet and around his ankles, and Gordon knew.

The sea was welcoming him home, letting its emotions spill around him after he had left and almost never came back. He dug his toes in the sand to latch on and never let go again.

He knew. With the salty air that let him clear his mind and the soft sounds of crashing waves, he knew he was finally home.

Chapter Text

Two months later.

Gordon grunted as he leant forward on the bench and rubbed his eyes.

Today's session had been rough. His therapist had gotten him to go into detail about some of his worst moments in captivity. Going through those moments again brought up awful memories for him, and he felt emotionally drained.

But it also felt cathartic to let it all out. He hadn't even intended to talk about it, but suddenly it all came out. He knew it was good to talk about it all, but that didn't stop him feeling exhausted afterwards.

He groaned into his hands again.

"I'm not such a terrible sight to see, am I?"

He sat up, startled by the sudden voice, but relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Not at all," he smiled at the man.

Fuse stood above him, holding onto two drinks that were topped with whipped cream and syrup.

"I got you a frappé." He held out one of the drinks as he sat down next to him on the bench.

"Did you make it?" Gordon took the drink from him.

"Yes, so be nice." Fuse's voice was firm, but Gordon knew he was joking.

He took a sip, and relished in the caramel flavouring that hit his tongue.

"That's really good." He didn't need to lie there.

Fuse grinned, and sipped his own drink.

"How is the job going?" Gordon asked him.

"Just as I thought. No angry, entitled customer who thinks their coffee isn't hot enough is worse than the people we've met," he laughed.

"And in New York too? That's hard to believe," Gordon joked, which made Fuse laugh harder.

It had seemed strange when Fuse said he wanted to set up his new life in a place as busy as this. It would have been understandable if he wanted to live a remote life in the middle of nowhere after everything.

But Fuse had said it was actually the complete opposite he wanted, so with Gordon's connections, they found him an apartment and a job that fit just what he wanted.

It was only made better by the fact that Gordon's therapist had recently moved his office out to NYC as well. Usually, their sessions were done over a video call so Gordon could stay on the island, but when he went for an in-person session, he got to meet up with Fuse.

"Have you spoken to your sister lately?" He asked next.

Gordon knew that the pair had reunited, but Fuse had also told him that she wasn't as ready to settle down for an ordinary civilian life. Gordon didn't know what she was doing currently, and supposed it was best to not know.

"She came to visit just a couple days ago. I think I'm getting close to convincing her to stay for good." He crossed his fingers hopefully. "Not that I think she would enjoy customer service, but I'm sure we could find something for her."

"It sounds like you're really settling in here."

Gordon was really proud of the other man for turning his life around, and not letting himself get lost in the past.

"Yeah. My physio even says my shoulder is getting better." He rolled the limb, now no longer wincing in pain when he moved it. "But that's enough about me. How are you? Back to saving the world yet?"

"Not yet." Gordon shook his head as he fiddled with the straw of his drink. "I'm not ready. I still can't even bring myself to tell my family everything that happened."

Gordon had told them bits and pieces. His therapist had told him it would do him good to talk to them as well, and they were willing to listen, but it was still so hard to delve back into those moments.

"It'll come eventually, and remember you have me to talk to as well. Who else better knows what you're going through?"

That was true, and Gordon couldn't forget the late night calls they'd had when one of them couldn't sleep.

"You are also welcome to come and stay with me for a bit, if you feel cooped up. I can show you how to make a frappé."

"As long as this isn't when you reveal you haven't done laundry for weeks and need me to do it." Gordon grimaced at the thought.

Fuse gasped as he feigned outrage.

"As if I would do that." The act was dropped quite quickly a second later. "But I do need help putting up a bookcase."

He sent him a pleading look, and Gordon laughed.

"I have some time before I have to head back." He stood from the park bench and offered a hand out to Fuse. "But I'm only doing this because of the free drink."

He gestured with the drink in his hand that was still half full.

"Oh, I stole them from work," Fuse shrugged as he took Gordon's offered hand, and Gordon almost dropped him back on the bench. "I'm kidding! I paid, and I did make them after my shift."

Fuse was cackling, and Gordon rolled his eyes, but smirked.

Once they were both on their feet, they made their way out of the park and toward the subway.

They both still had a long way to go, but they were getting there, together. Soon, Gordon would be back on rescues and Fuse would be back with his sister, and they could start to put this behind them. But one thing would never change from now on, and that was that they would always be there for each other.