Author's Note:
(Pssst- this fanfic is more T/M than M, but has violence, course language, drinking, and sexual scenes)
Find Me in France is based on Grace Skinner's theory of Connor and Risa's whereabouts in Unconfirmed (in the novel Unbound.) All other events besides those she mentioned (and the actual shooting) are my own. :)
I don't own the characters of Risa, Connor, or any of his family. However, several characters of this story are original. Enjoy!
Chapter 1:
Impossible Extermination
~Connor~
"Ready?"
"Ready," Connor replies, giving Risa's hand a squeeze.
3...2...1...Action!
And then the cameras start rolling.
The studio is just as it was about two years ago, before Connor's parents signed the unwind order and his family would watch the talkshow on television. Decorating the stage is a colorful patterned rug and plush chairs for the host and his interviewees. A large flatscreen displaying the show's logo to the cameras and the studio audience hangs on the wall behind.
Live with Patrick Deforest! had been a popular national talkshow since Connor was little.
"Welcome back everyone to Live with, yours truly, Patrick Deforest. Meet our guests tonight- though I'm sure all of you already know who these two are- Connor Lassiter and Risa Ward!"
The audience claps and cheers with enthusiasm, and Patrick turns to Connor and Risa, crossing his legs like it were a chat between friends.
"So, Risa, I have a very important question for you before we begin," says Patrick.
"Yes?"
"You and Connor have been together for over two years, yeah?"
"Just about that, yes."
"And you are pretty close to him, yeah?"
Then she looks to Connor for comment, and over her shoulder, he can see Patrick give the audience a notorious eyebrow wiggle. Connor snickers with the rest of them- unable to deny that comedy talk show hosts seem to always have the ability to make everyone feel like a kid.
Risa rolls her eyes playfully, knowingly left out of the game.
"I would say that," she replies, turning back to the Patrick, who sighs in pretend exasperation.
"Okay, I know he's the Akron AWOL, but for heaven's sakes, Risa, you never tell Connor to comb his hair just once in a while?"
The room erupts in laughter, and Connor facepalms through his amusement.
The hair jokes never cease, do they? Every public figure to befriend him has somehow always managed to jab at it.
He glances at Risa, who looks like she's trying not to snicker.
"Is it really that bad?"
"No," she counters, "It just looks a little bit like you just rolled out of bed every day."
Connor wilts like she insulted him- purely theatrical to entertain the audience, but it's fun anyway.
"Ah, don't worry Connor, the most necessary part of a relationship is brutal honesty, am I right, folks? My wife can tell you all about my back flab. But, you know, any exercise over five minutes I'm just not doing. A size larger shirt is a small price to pay to keep my lungs in tact."
An agreeable wave of laughter from the crowd, and Patrick Deforest smiles, lacing his fingers in his lap.
"True story, though," he says with a wink, and then turns to Connor and Risa once again. "Alright, enough of my rambling- let's talk that grand testimony in front of Congress. What are you two planning now?"
Connor grins, glad for something to talk about that is not over the topic of hair. The real reason for this interview.
"Well, there's going to be a rally in Chicago-"
Before he even gets to finish, there's a commotion in one of the rows of the studio audience. A man standing up? Connor can't quite make him out with the lights of the stage in his eyes.
Patrick squints at the scene. "Everything alright, folks?"
A woman screams, and Patrick Deforest is shot square in the chest with a bullet that rips it apart- splattering the stage with blood.
Dead.
There's a fraction of a second of deafening shock, Connor's ears ringing like a skipping record. He looks at Risa- the movement almost in slow motion. She was in the seat closer to Patrick-
Is-
Is she-?
No...no- there was only one shot. Her clothes are spattered with blood, but she's alive. Thank God.
Risa's eyes mirror his shock, and she grips his hand so tightly that her fingernails dig into his skin.
Run.
As the audience fills with the frantic cries of people shoving one another to escape the gunman in panic, Connor races across the stage with Risa still on his hand before security can even reach them. Only two guards are there, the rest seemingly searching the crowd and the surrounding rooms.
A second later, and all lights are cut as the building's put on lockdown, plunging them into darkness.
"This way," says one of the guards, grasping Connor's bicep. A small flashlight flickers to life, illuminating the backstage in an eerie glow- a huge contrast from the laughter and bustle just before the show.
Connor looks again at Risa as they're being led down an empty side corrider by the security guards.
The walk is long- almost endless. How big is this place?
Risa suddenly grabs his hand, and when he looks at her, is taken aback by the intense fear in her eyes.
"Connor," she hisses, "I don't think these men are actually-"
"Alright, you two," says one of them, his voice loud enough to echo down the endless corrider.
Connor tries to wrench himself out of the grasp of the man, but in the struggle finds himself slammed to the linoleum floor.
"I'll take the girl to the back," says the other one, seeming to laugh at their gullibility.
"NO! What are you doing-" Connor strains to look at Risa as his arms are pinned behind him, just as a hand is clapped over her mouth and the other man wraps her in a restraining embrace. She's struggling, but the shock has left them both vulnerable and weak.
Risa screams and tries to kick the man, but he positions a gun at her temple and drags her beyond the light of the flashlight.
"Better not be difficult, miss. Or we could provide more suffering than just a shot to the head..."
Connor can hear the blood rushing in his ears, the pain in his head worse than the seams on his shoulders and arms- sharply stinging from the grip of the man holding him back. "RISA!"
The guard laughs. "Not so high and mighty anymore, ay Akron AWOL?"
"What- why-"
"Why? Why? Aha, you should have died about twenty minutes ago, but poor Deforest took your bullet for you. Funny, right? That a beloved tv show host lost his life in your place?"
"You killed him!" Connor shouts, as the man pulls the same move on him as the other guard did on Risa. With the gun nozzle pressed to his head, Connor mentally kicks himself for being dense enough to wonder what kind of gun it is. Men like this don't want them alive.
A side door is opened and Connor is thrown inside. Before he can react, the man locks it behind him and yells gleefully, "We'll be back for you after we finish with her!"
Usually bold under pressure, this entire situation is so wholly unexpected that all Connor can do is slam his fists against the door and yell in frustration.
He breaks down when he hears Risa scream- echoing in the emptiness of the halls and rooms.
"Agh!" Connor curses and slams against the door with his shoulder as hard as he can repeatedly, but to no avail. He looks around the room for something- anything that might provide means of escape.
No window, no furniture, nothing.
She screams again, just as thunder shakes the building.
As he searches the walls in the dark, trying to feel the size of the room, Connor feels wetness in a corner. Water.
He stretches his hand up the wall until his fingers reach a ceiling tile, it's edge soaked from a leak.
It's raining, and this room has a leak.
Connor isn't sure how many floors the studio has, but he hopes that this means he's on the top floor, where rain is hitting the roof directly. Creating this leak.
Well, how does that help, genius?
Connor clenches his fist above his head, and jumps, knocking the ceiling tile out. It hits the floor and shatters, letting in a tiny stream of blue light from a crack in the roof above, beyond air ducts and pipes. Raindrops begin to fall directly to the floor, and Connor, able to see just the slightest bit, is thankful that he is tall, and the ceiling is low.
Gripping the edges of the hole he created, Connor hoists himself up into the ceiling. He can tell it barely holds his weight, but decides on an alternative.
Bracing himself for the pain of grate against hand, Connor is able to punch out a vent in one of the air ducts with a few swings, and climbs inside.
From in there, he can hear the vicious laughter of their captors as it bounces off the inside of the ducts. He only hopes they keep talking, because perhaps that gives Risa more time- and he can follow their voices through the metal airways.
But there is only so much time left.
~Risa~
Vile, disgusting people. No- not people, only creatures could be this horrible.
Risa's hands are bound and they duct-taped her mouth. In the struggle they pulled a knife on her and cut her cheek. They could have killed her then, but she knows why they haven't done it yet.
She'd have to be deaf to not.
Some things might be worse than knowing you're going to die, or that your boyfriend is being held somewhere else, probably being tortured.
Risa has decided it's when you have to sit and listen to what two disgusting men plan to do to you.
They laugh and point at her, saying such perverted, vulgar words that Risa feels so sick she'd throw up if her mouth wasn't taped.
One steps over to her and runs his hand up the side of her leg, hooking his finger in a belt loop. Risa growls, giving him a sturdy kick to the gut and sending the man across the room. Then they decide to hold her down and bind her ankles, tearing the nice blouse she bought for the interview with Patrick. The memory makes her feel even worse.
"It's best to just submit," one of the men says haughtily, getting close to her face. His breath smells exactly as she'd expect it to. "A good girl like you knows that if you don't give in we'll make your death more slow and more painful."
The other one grins at her. "Our job is to kill you, but boss didn't say we couldn't have fun first."
Then they laugh. Vile and disgusting.
Suddenly there's a loud bang above them, and a vent plate falls to the floor.
The men scramble around for their weapons, and Risa looks up.
Just barely, Risa can see a reflection of the flashlight against a pair of eyes. And she knows exactly who they belong to.
"Connor!" she screams, but it doesn't sound like anything against the duct tape.
One of the men points a gun at the hole in the ceiling. "Show yourself!"
The eyes disappear, and within a fraction of a second, a ceiling tile comes down on his head. He falls to the floor, out cold.
"What the-" And the second man is brought down by a plummeting tile.
Risa is so relieved that she hangs her head and sobs, the blood from the cut on her cheek fusing with tears.
"Is there anybody else?" Connor asks quietly from above her.
Risa shakes her head, and the knowledge that he's safe makes her cry even harder. She thought for sure he was being tormented somewhere else.
He drops to the floor like a cat and kneels in front of her, carefully peeling off the duct tape.
"You okay?"
Risa smiles weakly. "I am now."
Connor reaches behind him and picks up a shard of tile, using it to saw against her bonds until her ankles and hands are free.
He pulls off his jacket and rips off the sleeve of his t-shirt, pressing it to Risa's cheek.
"It's fine. You didn't have to-"
Connor brushes his thumb across her cheek, wiping away tears.
He smiles. "Risa, I'm your boyfriend. I have a job."
Risa rolls her eyes and gets up, surprised that even in the midst of things Connor can talk like he normally does. She goes to the door and tries the handle.
Unlocked.
"They wouldn't lock themselves in, and probably didn't think I would escape," says Risa, motioning for Connor to follow her.
"Should have known who they were dealing with," he laughs a little. "I definitely don't want to crawl through the ceiling again."
Risa presses a finger to her lips to quiet him- because there could still be people around as backup for these men. It makes her feel a little triumphant that if they hadn't delayed their mission to taunt her, they may have actually finished the job. She knows whoever sent them will give these men hell for screwing up so badly. Which could be a good or bad thing. After all- revenge is one of the strongest motivators.
As silent as possible, Connor follows her through the maze of corridors. Risa was sure she saw a fire escape as they dragged her to the most remote room in the building, and searches now for the light from the door's tiny window.
"There," he whispers from behind her, pointing to a little square of blue light at the end of another hall. Relieved, Risa grabs Connor's hand and almost races towards the fire escape. She actually liked the studio when they first arrived, but now finds herself despising the place as she would a prison.
A push against the door- and they're out on the steel fire escape.
Risa looks over the rail, nearly four stories above the parking lot below.
Another deep breath- because they haven't quite escaped yet, and Connor and Risa descend the stairs as quickly as possible.
It's only when they reach his car can Risa breathe a little easier.