Patrick opened the briefcase. The object inside was practically glowing. It had been carved into the shape of a very strange half-man, half-dog thing with large vampire-like fangs. It was old, it was vampiric, and it was made of pure gold. Next to him, Pete ran hands through his hair, caught between wonder and excitement. Joe's eyes lit up, and Andy looked unsure, yet giddy. Patrick himself wasn't sure whether this was wrong or not.
"So…" he started. Technically the briefcase was given to him, that meant he didn't steal it, even if it was stolen. Andy was the first to speak against it, confirming Patrick's doubts.
"Is this even right to have? It belonged to somebody, maybe a museum, it's old." Pete was the next to speak, though he was clearly enchanted by the object.
"How'd you even get this?" he said, exasperated. Joe didn't even say anything, amazed just being around so much value.
"Do you know how many people we could help with this?" Patrick asked.
"A whole lot." Joe muttered.
"It clearly has something to do with…y'know…" Pete hesitated. He still hadn't exactly made peace with himself, wasn't comfortable saying it out loud, never had been. Patrick thought about that while he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, given to him by the mysterious man on the street last night.
"What're those for?" Andy asked, confused. Patrick shrugged, though for some reason he was nervous…
"The guy who gave it to me said it would be safer if I kept it close, and then he gave me these." Without hesitation he locked the one cuff firmly on his wrist and the other on the handle of the briefcase. Everyone's eyes looked to Patrick in confusion, and he shrugged awkwardly again. He didn't really get it, but he knew he needed to protect it. There was something going on that he could feel in his gut. Something that was going to go wrong. He shook out his shoulders and forced himself to relax. He was just paranoid. They could help so many people with this. Pull people out of poverty, feed people. Give them homes and water. They could rebuild houses devastated by natural events. They did what they could, being musicians, but they weren't that big of celebrities, and they had just gotten back from the break last year. "So, I'm gonna head home, I'm kinda tired. We'll meet up again later, yeah? Find out how much this is worth and what we're gonna do with it." Pete met his eyes with worry. He reached out and hugged him.
"Be careful," he whispered in his ear. "Something feels off." Patrick knew that with that feeling only came trouble, but he shrugged for the third time.
"I will," he promised.
"I'm going to head home too," Joe said, yawning. "We've all been up since ass o'clock, I'm beat." Andy agreed, and they dispersed. They all drove off, except Pete, whose house they were currently in, and Patrick who had thought walking to Pete's house had been a great idea ~ It hadn't. That's where he had met that strange man passing by an alleyway, and where he had been given the briefcase and handcuffs.
"You're walking?" Pete asked him, and Patrick couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Yes, Mom," he snarked, "I'm walking." Pete gave him a glare, and Patrick laughed, feeling a little bit of the tension leave his shoulders.
"I'm serious though, 'Trick, be careful." Pete said, face serious again. Patrick nodded.
"I'll be fine, no one even knows I have this." Pete looked unsure. The nagging feeling in Patrick's gut grew, but he said nothing. Instead he walked out the door, and began walking down the street. It was a nice neighborhood, one Patrick had walked many times, but paranoia was getting the best of him, and he walked fast, gripping the briefcase tightly, and looking behind him every few minutes. Eventually he managed to calm from his overworked state, and even smiled at a kid riding a bike. Normal day. No one even cared that he had a briefcase, never mind what was in it. The kid even smiled back. Normal day.
Patrick started when he felt something latch onto his neck, attempting to turn around, before shocks of electricity stabbed through him. The pain was instant and horrible, but short. A taser…? He passed out rather quickly, barely feeling the grass under his cheek as he was dragged away.