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Chapter Text

He came to with soft light pushing through his eyelids. What seemed to be a sack was draped over his head, likely to disorient him. If it wasn't clear already, he was being kidnapped. Again. 

  Being the son of someone who made more enemies than allies in the dark side of the world truly brought more harm than good. Countless times, he had found himself in a situation like this. Whether it was a good thing or not that he had been taught how to get out of situations like this from a young age, he couldn't tell. But thank his lucky stars his guardian at least bothered to hire someone to teach him. 

  Gaining his bearings, he tuned in to his surroundings, listening, feeling, for anything that could possibly help him. It seemed that he was in a vehicle, moving at a constant high speed, high enough to assume that they were on the expressway, or a long road with no stops. As for the hushed voices, there were only two people talking, and from their tiny slips of conversation he could catch onto a few words… 

  “...Ambrose…” 

his family name. 

  “...scummy…fled without paying…debt…!”

sounds exactly like what his guardian, or who he refused to refer to as his parent, would do.

  “...know better than…messing with…Fisher…”

The name Fisher sparked a little bit of recognition in his mind. 

…So it's the Fisher family he's angered this time.

  Well, it's nothing he can't handle. The Fisher family wasn't a family as notorious nor well-known as the other families he had to face before. Even the way they kidnapped him was shoddily done, because really, throwing a sack over someone's head, bounding their hands with rope behind their back, but not making sure they stay unconscious all the way? That method was so cheap, undignified and outdated. Not only that, but they hadn't even fully checked him for any weapons, because they completely missed the little blade he hid in his gloves for emergencies. 

   What fools… Damian scowls to himself as he discreetly begins to saw off the cheap rope with the little blade. 

  Wrists finally free from the tight rope that bounded them, he begins to ponder his options.

  Should I try to take them out? No, there might be multiple people in this car, and my feet are still bound…

  What about waiting for the next time they stop? But there is no telling when they'll stop, what if on the next stop there's nowhere else to run to? 

  It'd be nice if I could at least see my surroundings, then at least I'd have a rough gauge of where I am…We couldn't have gotten too far from the city, right?

  There's only one way to know, but…How can I get these idiots to remove the sack from my head? 

  All of a sudden, he jolts up from a hunched position. The voices instantly quieten down. Thrashing wildly in his seat, he plays the role of a distressed kidnapped victim the best he could, screaming and yelling under the sack. Finally, a hand reaches out and pulls the sack off. 

  His eyes met the cold cyan glare of a young man that looked around his age. 

  “...quiet.” the individual hissed.

   Damian was instantly silenced. 

   …That was rather easy. Do something annoying enough and they'll glare at you to shut up.

  He then looks around, picking up that there were actually three, rather than two people in the vehicle. Scanning over the individual, his yellow hair and blue eyes stood out. He briefly recalls his guardian meeting with a man who shared the same characteristics. He was most likely the head of the Fisher family. 

  Out of everybody else in the car this individual was the only one with these features, so it was safe to assume that there was only one important member from the Fisher family securing him, but he looked much younger than the man his guardian had met.

   With an absence of a brooch that usually signifies a family's approval of a member in this region of the world, this individual probably wasn't valued all that much in the family. 

  The other two sitting at the front of the car with one driving were likely lackeys who merely followed his orders. 

  Turning his attention to the window, all he could see was the rolling dry dirt ground with no cities nor cars in sight. 

  Now, how best to get out of this situation…

  “Is there perhaps any gas stations uhh nearby?” Trying his best to sound anxious, he voices out a question.

  “...even if there was, we wouldn't let you down.”

  “Even if I really need to go to the restroom?”

  “...”

  “Do you want me to do my business in this car?”

  “There's a gas station coming up in half an hour's time. If you really do end up doing your business in the car I'll throw you into the stuffy car boot for the rest of the route.”

   “ You should've done that from the start! Why would you give me the privilege of sitting here?”

  “...”

   This guy's morals are still intact…even when he has to face an enemy like me, he’s still somewhat merciful. No wonder why his family outcasted him. 

   “So, you think kidnapping me and presenting me to your family head would make them acknowledge you, huh?”

  The young man narrows his gaze.

  “Watch. Your. Words.”

  Damian stifles a laugh. This guy's situation was so pathetic even he almost couldn't help feeling sorry for him. To think he would be so sensitive over something like this…surely he could exploit this new discovery. 

  Leaning back the best he could with his hands still ‘bound’ behind him, he starts,

  “You know, when I was younger I was cast aside by my family too?”

  Eyes darting to the man's face, he gauges his expression, continuing, 

  “You see, pa never really cared much about me. Said I was too young to be involved in these kinds of businesses. 

  Well, I get that it was because I was in grade school, but after a while I was way past that young age and he still refused to let me get into this line of business. 

  Honestly, I think he just wanted all the power of the family to himself, like the selfish little thing he is.” 

  The young man's expression softened, hearing Damian's ‘story’. He was completely absorbed in whatever nonsense Damian was spurting out, even though he was making half the information up along the way.

  “So? How did you get back in?” the man eagerly prompted Damian.

  “Hmm…I simply found my own way into the shady side of business and proved to pa that I didn't need him to do this. I was fine with doing it all on my own. It was only then that I successfully proved myself worthy.”

  When he finished, he found the young man looking at him, dazed. The story had found a path into his tender emotions. Emotions he could easily manipulate. 

  “So, what about you? How did you get here?” he asked the young man. Now would be a good time to get him to open up.

  “...My Family's always had this huge inheritance of the head going on.

  My dad was the head until he got taken down in a shootout when I was younger, so the rights to the title of head went back to my grandpa. 

  From there, my relatives were all only waiting for him to announce who would be the next head. A few days after he announced one of my cousins was to be head when he passes on, he got into an accident and passed. 

   Then it all went downhill, and I got cast aside, none more than a pawn for them to push around without grandpa around to keep them in check.

  All that I am now is a member of the family in name.”

  “...how ruthless…characteristic of all families, I suppose.” 

  He knew it was normal of families to run amok like that. The fight for the title was always a violent bloodshed battlefield and spared not even an ounce of mercy for anybody in the member's way. Hearing a firsthand experience of it was simply different from having his guardian tell him; it just made it all seem so real . 

  “There's the gas station. Let's stop by here.”

  Damian snaps back to the matter at hand. Right. A way to escape from this situation. Now that he had gained the young man's trust, he'd need it for his next course of action.

  The car came to a stop at a deserted gas station. The other two subordinates under the young man exited the car, stretching their legs after the long tiring drive, one lighting their cigarette for a little smoke break while the other simply accompanied them. Meanwhile, Damian was left in the car with the young man.

  “Hey, you think you could help me with the ropes on my legs? Can't really get to the toilet with…you know,” Damian nods towards the rope typing his ankles together.

  Reaching over towards Damian, the young man pulls out a knife and begins sawing off the rope. Finally falling apart, the uncomfortable scratchy feeling of the rope against his ankles was gone. 

  “Here, let me do it for your hands to-”

  Before the young man could finish his sentence, Damian grabs a pistol he'd been eyeing for a long time from the young man's vest. He proceeds to roughly shove him out of the car onto the dusty dirt ground, pinning him down with the young man's hands behind his back. Swiftly undoing the safety mechanism of the pistol, he presses the barrel of it into the back of the young man's head. 

  “You two!” Damian yelled at the other two working under Nate, “Don't move, or I'll shoot him! You know that bad things will happen if you fail to protect hi-”

  BANG!

  A gunshot resounds, the bullet hitting the ground close to Damian.

  “Like hell we care!” One of them says, “Go do whatever you want to him! He doesn't even do jackshit in the family, he's only kept alive for formalities!”

  To his surprise, the same one who said that started pulling out their gun, poised and aimed right at the young man's head.

  “Look, if you're not going to kill that useless junk, I'll do it myself, pour acid down your vocal cords, then say you're the one who killed him.”

  “And then we could take the credit for catching you and at least keeping you alive,” the other one joins in, a malicious smile playing on their face.

   What the hell?!! He knew that the young man's situation was bad, but never thought it would be so bad that even the people that were supposed to be under him would go against him! He needed to get out of here. Fast. 

   Adrenaline pumping strongly through his blood, he runs into the car, he starts it up – thank goodness they left the key in – and slams the accelerator, speeding off the fastest he could. For a while, he could hear bullets hitting the back of the car, but the erratic manner he drove ensured the car was barely hit by any. In the gas station growing smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, he could vaguely make out two figures standing over the young man, their arms stretched out now pointing their pistols at him rather than the car he was getting away in. His breath hitches in his throat.

   What the hell. What the hell. What the hell.

  Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he veers the car off road, making a sharp 180° turn, heading back towards the gas station and rams the car into the two people at full speed. The two of them, entirely focused on the young man before them, could not notice the car speeding towards them in time was met with the full force of the impact. 

  Hitting the brakes, his car screeched to a full stop. Heart still pumping loud and fast, his breaths coming out in rapid little bursts. Eyes landing on the young man on the ground frozen in shock, he walks towards him and knocks him out with the back of the pistol. He loads his unconscious body into the backseat of the car he had sat at earlier, tying his hands to the back of the headrest above the seat. 

  From the driver's seat, he looks back at the unconscious young man. He wasn't sure what to do with him, neither was he sure why he even decided to bring him along in the car. He could probably drop him off at the next town they come across along this long dusty road.

  Clutching the steering wheel, he exhales a shaky breath. This was by far the wildest kidnapping he had ever gone through.

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