Warning: Children in danger, violence, future non-con

Disclaimer: I do not own Breaking Bad and none of this belongs to me.

Chapter One: Taken

Brock was almost afraid to breathe. Everything had happened so quickly and he didn't know what to do. He was pressed hard against the floor, under his bed, hiding behind a blanket that hung down off of it. He wanted to peek out and see but then they might see him and Jesse had told him to stay hidden no matter what until it was safe to come out.

"How will I know?" Brock had asked, and Jesse had looked sad then.

"Probably when a police officer calls for you, Brock. Okay? Can you stay hidden until then?"

"Okay," Brock replied softly. Fear was ebbing at every corner of him, but he listened to the instructions. His mother and Jesse seemed dead serious. He needed to listen to them…

And there he was. He'd heard everything they had said after that, Jesse's burst of a confession saying that a man named Walter White might be coming for them all and that they needed to get out of town. "This man poisoned Brock, Andrea… This man… I don't know what else he might do to get to me. We need to leave, we need to leave now. But if he comes now we need to make sure Brock is safe. Is there anyone who can come get him?"

"What about Saul?" Andrea asked, "Don't you trust him?"

Jesse shook his head.

"Not anymore."

The door had burst open then. There had been a sound of surprise from Jesse and a scream from Andrea.

"I'm guessing Mr. White sent you," Jesse hissed with rage.

A voice belonging to a man Brock couldn't see replied, "That old coot? He doesn't know about this. He'd never sacrifice his precious Jesse…" The voice was seething with condescension. "Housed up with his little spic slut. That whore Lydia's demanding a better cook or she's going to fire us from our own damn operation. You're going to show Todd how to do it."

"Todd? That whackjob is behind this? Guess he was too much of a pussy to come on his own so he sent you assholes."

"Shut up, Pinkman. If you do what we want, maybe we'll let your bitch and her kid live. Where is that kid anyway? Brock, oh Brooooock!"

"You leave him the fuck out of it! He isn't even here, and you'll never find him."

Brock shook. This man was scary and this man wanted to find him… But Jesse was going to protect him. He was going to be okay. He just had to stay hidden like Jesse had said. Like he was playing.

He held his breath and listened. He wanted to peek, to see what was going on, but it was too dangerous. He would just stay here, still.

"Come with us, Jesse," the man declared a few moments later, "Make it easy on yourself. We don't want to hurt you… But we will if we have to." Brock heard a struggle and then a horrible sound of someone getting hit, hard. He knew that sound. He hated that sound.

He could hear his mom cry out, too, and Brock scooted further under the bed. He should go to her, he should do something, he needed to do something… But what could he do? He was just a kid… those men were big and scary.

But a little voice whispered to him in his head, Tomas would know what to do. Tomas wasn't afraid of anything. Don't be a little scaredy-cat, Brock. Still he couldn't move. He was fixed to the spot. There was the sound of a door opening, and Brock stayed, still, waiting for the person Jesse said would come.

He waited a long time, to the point where he was hungry and needed the bathroom besides, but he wasn't going to budge in case those men were still out there.

He didn't know how long it was before he heard the footsteps and then a familiar voice calling, "Jesse? Jesse? Are you there? It's me. It's Walt. Are you alive? Jesse, come out!"