Chapter Text
Reunion
Chapter 1: The Abduction, by Vanessa S. Quest
The pendulum light swayed left and right, left and right, in the small and otherwise dark room, it was disorienting. Stomach somersaulting, feet strapped to the base of the wheeled office-chair with a ziptie, and wrists bound in a similar manner at the skinny waist of the office chair, he blinked tiredly.
Gagged, he looked around the very narrow room— with no windows, he suspected it was a walk-in closet. Looking at the ground, he could see the splotches of red staining into the carpet, with his black shirt ripped in the front where he’d been grabbed earlier.
He strained his ears to listen for any sounds to help him identify his surroundings. With his tongue fighting against the rubber biteguard, he realized he wouldn’t be able to force out the gag. Still, he’d been in similar spots before, and he knew how critical it was to stay calm and gather information.
Jonny’s early childhood had been a painful lesson in pragmatism after all.
The light kept moving left-right, left-right, he looked up and spotted some kind of mechanism that was triggering the effect. His first thoughts were that it was conditioning. Whoever his host really was had clearly wanted him dizzy, disoriented, and frankly manageable. At least his reputation preceded him, he supposed.
Fingering his wrists with opposing hands, he reached to feel if maybe not all of his reputation preceded him. The corner of his mouth twisted upward as he felt the rubber encasement of his watch.
He remembered the blitz, he’d been at the café, sipping a coffee and working on his laptop to write up one of his several thesis papers he had coming due. At 17, and a freshman at university, he’d elected to live up to the Quest reputation, his plan was a triple major—his AP courses from high school had already gotten him through all of his core requirements. Spending four years to pick up as much of a broad background as he could would benefit him, and being that he knew his educational journey didn’t end until he’d picked up the moniker of Doctor as well had certainly made options important.
He closed his eyes, trying to hold the nausea back. A dark sedan had pulled up urgently to the curb, which was notable... but not unheard of. The school was prestigious, and the café was right by it. Hell, the one nice thing about the university was he was hardly the only heir on the grounds, several celebrities, or kids of aging celebrities were classmates and alumni. There were even a few princes and princesses he’d rubbed elbows with during Greek Week, though no one felt they really needed Jonny to go through pledge hell-week with his reputation. That, and the fact Race personally stopped by and looked at all the fraternities’ members, IDs, and credentials with the look of a man who would know how to deal with people who put hands on the young man or gave him a drop of spirits had left an impression.
His surname matching his dad’s had also made sure he was fast tracked on several invite lists, anyway, bypassing that whole annoying alcohol-poisoning bit Greek-Life led risk to.
He tried to remember details of the car, it was definitely a lux model, but low-key. Common black, because security details, tinted windows—same, he was fairly sure it was a Maserati Ghibli or Quattroporte, but he wasn’t really a car guy so he was iffy on the model at best.
Then again, seeing the young woman who rolled down her window at the sight of him could’ve played into that distraction. Alabaster skin, long red hair tied in a ponytail, and comically oversized glasses obscuring what he’d assume would be very familiar green eyes, and dressed in a tight fit white dress shirt with the button at her bust buckling to the strain of hugging tight curves, he’d say he was distracted at seeing Jessie Bannon show up at his school looking like she was about to present there. Except, when the woman tipped her glasses and the rear car door opened, he’d realized that whoever she was sure as fuck wasn’t his childhood bestie.
And the guy she’d brought along to play tag was hardly friendly either. He was one-two’d in the nose and mouth just as he’d figured out it wasn’t Jessie and then, arguably more importantly, that whoever she was- she’d brought backup. He’d been knocked to the ground, and his backpack and laptop left at the table as he was grabbed by the gruff of his neck and tossed into the back of the car before his new pal joined him in the backseat. The sound of the car peeling out much the same as it had made when peeling in.
He remembered trying to take a swing from the bench-seat, but the older man was bigger and was happy to use his weight as a knee crushed into his abdomen and crotch, one arm grabbing at the front of him to prevent him from blocking what was coming next, but he’d put up a fight anyway. After all, Race had taught him judo for a reason. It didn’t matter, the third blow to the side of his head was the last headshot he could take and keep conscious.
The man who’d roughed him up, while far less of a looker than his driver, was easily fifty pounds of muscle-mass over on him. His skin was rough, leathery- probably from sun damage, and he had white hair tied into a top-knot along with a short-kept beard. Besides it, though, he looked familiar.
Sharp blue eyes, the no-nonsense look of a military man, and that his body was conditioned like one even after all those years... if he hadn’t seen Race only a week before he’d have wondered if he’d pissed the Bannon-clan off. Even still, though, he wasn’t sure there was a way to piss Race off so much that he’d rope Jessie into some kind of stunt like this—and he was firmly committed that he hadn’t!
He tried to remember if he sent Jessie flowers for her birthday since she was at a different university. Yeah, he’d gotten confirmation... with that being just after winter break, there really wasn’t anything he could think of, and definitely nothing that warranted losing his laptop over.
He looked at the light again, the warping of the color grade of the old-style Edison bulb was leaving trails in the air.
He continued to focus on whatever sounds he could hear, but all he really could discern was the hum of electricity and his own quickly beating heart.
Oh fuck.
The room was soundproofed. That realization, and the gag, and he realized it wasn’t to prevent him from screaming. It was there to prevent him from hurting himself. The rubber was there so he couldn’t bite his tongue off. Who the hell would make the assumption he’d try to do that?! He turned left and realized the chair had a swivel to it, as he slowly managed to turn the chair without tipping it over (barely) he froze as he saw a smart TV and the blinking red light indicating there was an embedded camera.
Just as his eyes connected with it, the TV turned on, startling him backward. It was enough of a shock that it did tip the chair, he felt his weight land on his bound arms and muffled a yelp.
There was a commotion, a flash of general concern over the faces he observed for but a moment before the male voice boomed, “Careful, kiddo!”
He yelled into his gag suddenly perfectly clear as to who this man was. The last time he’d seen Korchev had been about four years ago, but back then he was still dressing like how Race used to. He swallowed down a gulp, he didn’t understand what the walking security risk was doing state-side, let alone how he picked up a girl who looked so much like Jessie, or what that even was supposed to mean?!
The pendulum just kept going, but now it was front-back, front back directly over head and his nausea was getting worse. He forced his eyes shut as he turned his head to the side.
“Jonny, I’m so sorry I had to be rough on you like that. You’ll come to understand— it was the best way I had to rescue you. You’re safe now, you’re free now, and once you see that, well, then I’ll untie you.”
“Dad...?” The girl approached the man on the other side of the screen, Jonny opened his eyes to look at her as she draped the man in a hug. “You can get through to him, you have to!”
Her cadence of speech, Jonny felt sick to his stomach, it was the same way Jessie spoke. He hoped his watch was picking this up. His family had to know the danger they were in. He looked up at the pendulum, the orange-trails of light dancing in the air, his eyes following it in a horrifying daze. His heartbeat felt slower, his heart wasn’t bounding hard with adrenaline either. No, if anything, he knew he was getting drowsy—falling into the hypnosis, his head lolled to it’s uninjured side before touching shoulder, out cold.
-TBC-