I don't own JONAS it belongs to Disney.

I would like to thank my sisters Jen and Sara for all their help.

I will tell you know this story is EVIL. So you have been warned.

This story includes SLASH, RAPE and INCEST. If you don't like, don't read.

Please review.

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Joe slowly opened his eyes to find himself bound to a chair. Wigging a little he winced as his bounds cut into his writs, he realized his hands were bound with fishing line. His ankles were also bound but to the legs of the chair making it impossible to try kicking his captors.

His brown eyes widened as they adjusted to the light before taking in his surroundings. The room was very dark and cold; the Lucas felt a shiver carry through his body as the cold from the damp room carried through his thin t shirt and his boxers. The room had no windows the only piece of furniture in the room was the one he was sitting in. He could tell from what little light that shone into the room the door was behind him and probley locked.

Joe's mind went to his brothers as he heard voices outside the room; he hoped that they were okay.

Joe hoped he would see his brothers again.

As raised voices from outside the door leaked into the room, a small tear ran down Joe's cheek.

His mind went to his brothers hoping he would see them once again.

He hoped he would survive this.

He had been trained for this.

He could survive.

He will survive.

He would not break.

"No, I will do what I want to my prisoner," leaked into the room causing Joe's eyes to widen.

Joe let his eyes fall closed, his long black eyelashes falling upon his golden skin as he took a deep breath.

"Time for this Lucas to feel a little pain."

"What are you going to do?"

"He's gonna meet my favorite weapon."

"You can't mean…"

"Yes, that's EXACTLY what I mean."

A light chuckle followed the conversation.

Joe was shaking in his chair as he heard the key being put in the door.

He once again closed his eyes as a tear ran down his cheek.

His lips moved in a quiet prayer.

A prayer for his brothers.

A prayer for himself.

A prayer that he would make it through this.

A prayer that he would survive.

A prayer for his life.

A prayer for his soul.

A prayer that he hoped was heard.

A prayer that left his lips in a whisper.

'Please let me live through this.'

And then the pain started.