Hello! So I felt the need to write a fanfic about Jem and Will (because I love them and those books broke my heart). I'm not sure how it's going to turn out just yet, so be patient. Also, I don't normally write in English so the grammar and spelling can have some errors, hopefully it won't be so annoying. Also, the summary can change, I'm still working out some details but yea. You will have to read and see :) I hope you like it, and please review so I know if I should bother to lay up another chapter or not!:)
A coldness sneaked upon Will, and negligent it dragged him out from the world of dreams. The coldness seemed more real as the seconds passed by, and he furiously fought to stay in the world where pain did not hurt, and where he could snatch the world back in time if something went wrong. Where he could start over as soon as he let the words pass over his lips. But even how much he tried, he couldn't prevent it from happening. The cold got a grip on him and he was soon aware of his surroundings. The wind that made the trees creak sent a shiver to propagate along his spine, and the smell of the trees made his nose sting. He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to open them. His brain was suddenly made out of fog that wouldn't leave him, it blocked his brain from thinking as fast as it usually did. But one thought stuck with him, triggered a sense of warning somewhere deep inside of him. He knew the sound of wind in trees well enough to recognize it, but he didn't live anywhere close to a forest. He forced himself to listen more carefully, to see if the sound would appear again. And there it was - the same hollow sound and the clanking of branches. He abandoned all of his attempts to go back to sleep and opened his eyes, once again. He blinked to get used to the darkness that surrounded him from all angles. It wasn't just the noises that were wrong, the smells was also, almost, unknown to him.
Quickly, his hand flew to the belt at his waist, but it was gone. There was no trace of the weapon that used to hang there, and Will gritted his teeth in annoyance. His thoughts travelled back to when he had gone to sleep, how he had taken the belt off. He had put it on the side, right next to him. Oh well, now the possibility of getting it was gone. He instead raised his hands and fumbled along the walls. He let his fingers notice all the cracks in what seemed like wood, the points of nails stuck out here and there and seemed to grasp after his fingers. The small amount of light from the moon, that the trees let shine through, threw shadows of swaying branches on the walls. But he didn't notice the shadow of a profile of a man on the walls, something he guessed he should feel happy about, but he didn't. His hand closed around an edge, and he tried to set his foot out. But there was no earth underneath, just air who teasingly danced below him. He knelt and sought after anything that could get him out of there. His only thought was to get out alive, and then he could try to find out who had taken him and why.
His hands fumbled upon something that seemed to be a rope ladder. He followed both ropes with his hands and yanked them hard. When they didn't break or budge, he bent over the edge. Slowly, he turned around and started climbing down, careful not to give a sound. It went slower than he had wanted it to, but he also didn't want to make a sound. The mere thought of the ladder breaking under him made a shiver travel along his spine. He resisted the urge to close his eyes, he couldn't afford to have to adjust his eyes to the darkness once again. At last, his feet made contact with the earth, and a wave of relief flew through his body. He landed on the ground with a low thud, and his body reacted on its own. Crunching down fast, trying to avoid the possibility of getting hit by something, anything, coming flying through the air in his direction. When nothing happened, he carefully straightened up and began moving. Letting his hands be stretched out in front of him, careful so, not to trip over rocks and walking into trees.
Soon enough, he was flying past the trees. Running as fast as his legs would carry him, jumping over roots and fallen trees. His thoughts were wild in his head, pondering the same question over and over again. Why did someone want him there? But then something suddenly struck him and he stopped dead in his track. If they had gone through the trouble of getting him there, why hadn't he been more guarded? Getting out of there had been a piece of cake. Suddenly, he felt watched. A creepy sensation was crawling up on him, and his eyes darted from tree to tree, trying to make out even a shadow of a character. And then, he looked up. He had been held in a tree, so it only made sense that the ones who took him would be up there. Not chasing him from the ground, or maybe he had gone far enough to have made it out of their camp, or whatever it was. But somehow, he didn't think so. It seemed like this was all a game, that he wouldn't be able to get out of there how much he even tried. They wouldn't just let him leave, and the realization of that made fear crawl up his back. Which he quickly shook off, William Herondale did not fear anything. At that, he straightened his back and grabbed a tree branch by his left. It was only as long as his forearm, and it had a sticky sensation to it. But he needed something to defend himself with, and since they had taken his knife, this was all he had.
"What do you want?!" he screamed into the pitch black night, but as for now, he received nothing but an angry whisper of the wind through the treetops. So he stood still, waiting for something to happen. He didn't run, he wasn't a coward and he needed answers. And maybe his decision was impulsive and stupid, but right then, he didn't care.