A littler later than planned, but here it is. I had to overcome the depression from seeing my team lose, but I couldn't leave you guys hanging. Thanks for all the great reviews!


Chapter 4 – No holier temple

We got lost again/ Drove to the end of a road/ And a red-faced man/ Taught us to do what we're told/ And on the 23rd night/ Things ain't bad/
But things ain't right/ Are we falling or flying/ Are we living or dying/ I guess we'll never know/

..

When she awoke, her head pounding, the sky was turning gray, some last rays of sunshine throwing orange patterns onto the hill. She groaned and rubbed a hand across her face. She tasted dirt. Lilly rolled onto her side and carefully pushed herself into a sitting position. The field was empty, just dirt and the imprint of hands and feet long gone. Closing her eyes until the pounding subsided somewhat, Lilly tried to wrap her head around what had happened. Then she remembered. Miley, what if they had already taken her and she was gone and Lilly was here, all alone in this godforsaken place.

She tried to stand on wobbly legs and that's when she saw her. Miley was sitting with her back to a small boulder just a few feet from Lilly's side. Her head was leaned back, her eyes closed, but when she heard movement, they opened. She smiled at Lilly, relief evident on her face. Miley stood up slowly.

"Lils, I was worried. How's your head?" Miley asked softly, reaching out a hand to touch the already forming bruise on the blonde's temple when she stepped closer.

"Been better, but I'll live," Lilly shrugged, stepping as close to her friend as possible.

Miley frowned, "Why'd you do that, you doughnut?"

Lilly smiled weakly, "Come on, Miles, you're my best friend, it'll always be you over anything else."

The brunette stared at her and shook her head, "Over what? Not getting knocked in the head? Did he shake a few brain cells loose?" Her voice was softer when she continued, "I don't like seeing you hurt, Lilly, especially not over me. It's my fault we're here in the first place, I don't want you to have to suffer more."

Lilly stared at her friend, in shock. They hadn't talked about this, not really, just a few weak whispers and tears during the first few hours after the kidnapping, but Lilly'd had no idea Miley was still blaming herself five years later. The blonde grabbed onto her friend's upper arms, making Miley meet her eyes with a stern look.

"Miley, none of this is your fault. It was Joe and Adrian and Matt and that fat guy. They took us and they locked us up and they hid us here to cover their own asses. And it's them," Lilly pointed at the sentry towers surrounded the compound, towering over them from their position on the field, "it's them keeping us here, with threats and guns and violence. Not you. You didn't do this to us, Miley, they did."

There was silence, just their eyes, locked together, Lilly's hands still tightly gripping Miley's upper arms. Tears shone in the brunette's eyes and it made Lilly's heart clench. She hadn't even noticed she was crying as well. When Miley still hadn't said anything after several moments, Lilly sighed and let her hands slide down the brunette's arms to take her hands.

"Even if you had done something, some little, dumb thing you didn't even remember that led them to you, it's not your fault, Miles. But for whatever you think you did, I forgive you. I forgive you a thousand times over, Miley. Because I love you."

Miley practically collapsed into her arms and Lilly wrapped her arms around her friend and closed her eyes. She inhaled the scent that was so purely Miley, reveling in the feel of the brunette's body so close to hers, knowing this was what love was.

Opening her eyes, she looked around the deserted field with a heavy heart. She wanted nothing more than to take Miley and run, run until they were out of breath and far away from this place. They were outside the compound, but the looming sentry towers were a stark reminder of their predicament. They wouldn't get more than a few yards, she knew, before they'd be taken down. And while she would've taken the risk on her own, Lilly would never put Miley in danger. She wouldn't be able to stand it if something happened to her friend. So instead they stood in silence, wrapped in each other's arms, as the sun faded below the horizon.

* * *

He tapped his pen impatiently on the files stacked on his desk, his features dark. Throwing a glare at the man across from him, he let out a breath and shut his laptop. The noise was loud in the stark room. The walls were bare brick with just a simple coat of white paint and empty except for a large map tacked to one side. A bookshelf stood against one wall, filled with multiple volumes on survival and evasion tactics, weapon maintenance and explosives. There was a sole desk in the room, and though covered in files and papers, it was neat. The dark-haired man sat behind the desk, still glaring at his tall, blonde friend who was sitting in a rickety plastic chair on the other side.

"Come on, Jordan," the blonde man huffed at his friend, exasperated. They'd been friends for a long time, though he knew they used the term loosely. Perhaps 'business associates' was better.

Jordan narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, "Right. What happened the last time I trusted you, Adrian?"

Adrian pursed his lips, thinking that one over. Though they kept in fairly regular contact, it wasn't like it used to be. His friend now spent all his time shut up in this bunker, surrounded by paranoid schizophrenics who worshipped the ground he walked on. Of course, he thought, Jordan had always had a god complex and was probably a paranoid schizo himself. He chose his next words carefully.

"Last time you trusted me, I brought you a nice present," the blonde said softly, a smirk on his face.

Jordan scoffed and leaned forward towards his friend, "A present? That was blackmail. Hannah Montana and her super-annoying sidekick, whatever."

Adrian thought back to the day five years ago, he'd shown up with his two hostages in tow. Perhaps Jordan had a point. "Hey, it's not my fault you decided not to touch them."

Running a hand across his dark, shortly shorn hair, Jordan leaned back again, eyes dark, "I'm not a pervert, Adrian, unlike some other people you associate with."

The blonde man leaned back in his own chair, wanting to adopt the same sort of easy confidence that surrounded his friend. Jordan, unfortunately, was right again, though he didn't like thinking of his old buddy Matt, whom he'd had to shoot in the head upon finding him entertaining useless thoughts about one of the hostages. Instead, he decided not to let Jordan get to him.

"Please, how many of the women in this nut farm have you slept with, huh? How many have had your babies? Just because you kept your hands off two teenagers doesn't make you a saint, Jordan," Adrian said smugly.

Jordan glared at him dangerously, with a hint of contempt, "Adrian, my dear friend, I wouldn't talk about things I know nothing about. You're the one who came here five years ago, panicked, because you'd kidnapped goddamn Hannah Montana and didn't know what to do with her. You were the one who couldn't kill those girls and I won't understand it as long as I live."

Adrian tried to keep his face neutral, but Jordan's words had brought back many memories he'd vowed to forget. It had been a low point in his life, the day he brought the girls to Breakers East. His plan had been so perfect, he'd hardly believed his luck when he found out Hannah Montana was Miley Stewart from a stagehand friend of his who had worked at some venue Hannah performed at. It had been too perfect; snatch Miley, who was a nobody and had no security around her, hit up her daddy for twenty-five million dollars and then retire on a beach in Mexico.

It hadn't quite worked like that and he'd ended up killing Matt, nearly getting caught by the cops at the ransom drop and stuck with two teenagers locked up in his basement. He should have just killed them, Adrian thought for the thousandth time. But he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger and he couldn't just let them go, no matter how much they'd promised not to turn him in. So he had brought them here, the one place he knew they'd never be found. He'd forced his old friend Jordan into taking the girls, keeping them indefinitely, by threatening to feed the FBI information on Breakers East. Adrian had had a hand in not only helping Jordan acquire the large tracts of land, but also all the weapons and explosives currently located in this bunker.

Adrian shook his head to will the memories away, "Whatever, you know I love to reminisce, but can we talk about why I'm here now?"

Jordan shrugged and handed a file across the desk, "If what you're saying is true and the FBI is stepping up its inquiries, then it's time we put a little more insurance into this place. Your explosives guy, Collins, should be here next week, said he was delayed on his way. If you can get me the stuff on this list, you'll get a nice commission."

Adrian only glanced at it briefly before nodding. After his last disastrous attempt, he'd given up on kidnapping and was now mainly focusing on arms dealing. He stood, tucking the file under his arm and nodded at his friend.

Jordan stood as well and grinned, "Now, isn't this a lot better than you forcing me to humor your soft heart?"

The blonde only grimaced and decided to let the barb lie. He left the bunker, glad to get away from the nut jobs.

* * *

Miley was crying. Lilly's face was wet with tears. Their hands, clasped tightly, lay trembling between them as they sat against the cold brick wall. Adrian was pacing, heels kicked up little clouds of dirt as he walked. Matt was leaning against the wall next to the girls, picking at his nails. Joe was standing by the doorway anxiously glancing at Adrian. And Brendan was somewhere in the house, probably looking for food. There was silence in the room, until Adrian spoke again.

"No, you listen, Mr. Stewart," he said the name with such contempt even Matt looked up, "I want 25 million dollars in unmarked, untraceable bills and I want it by Saturday. And don't even think about calling the cops."

He pressed the phone tighter against his ear, knuckles turning white as he listened to the man on the other side. He was angry and tried hard to make his voice sound calm and composed, "Not enough time? How long do you want your daughter to spend time under my care, huh? Stop wasting my time and get on it!"

Robbie Ray was talking again and Adrian scoffed at his request. He walked towards the girls, stopping right above them. They shrank back and he smirked. "Of course she's still alive, it'd be dumb of me to kill her right away, wouldn't it? Say hi to your daddy, Hannah."

He held the phone up above their heads and Miley stared at it. She didn't know what she was supposed to do; was she supposed to let her daddy know she was alive or say nothing? But she missed him so much and just wanted him to find her and hold her and make everything better.

"Daddy, I…" she yelled, but Adrian had already put the phone back to his ear and walked away. More tears spilled down Miley's cheek. At least Lilly was there, she thought, at least she wasn't all alone, but then realizing how horrible it was of her to think that she cried harder.

Adrian turned his back to the girls, "Now that you know she's alive, go get my money. I'll…"

Robbie Ray interrupted him and Adrian stopped, anger coming over his face, "What do you mean you don't have…who do you think you're talking…you're Hannah Montana's father, I'm not stupid!"

Adrian gritted his teeth, furious that the other man would try to tell him he didn't have that kind of money. He was Hannah Montana's manager for god's sake; he was loaded. The blonde man gripped the gun he had tucked into the waistband of his pants, feeling the cool grip lie heavy in his hand. He walked back over to the girls, who stared at the gun with wide, fearful eyes.

"Listen, buddy," he said, barely controlling his anger. His finger itched to pull the trigger; this idiot didn't know whom he was talking to. "I'm not playing around here, this isn't summer camp! I'm gonna fuckin' kill her if you don't get me that money!"

The other man said something, perhaps trying to appease him, but he'd had enough useless talk. Adrian pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the silent room.

Miley shot up in bed, scream stuck in her throat. She clambered over the side of the bed, crashing to the wooden floor below with a heavy thud. Her leg ached and bile rose in her throat. Miley tried to draw in a shuddering breath, but it was as if her throat was closed up and she panicked. Gripping the bed frame with her hand she slightly pulled herself up, still trying to breathe. The bed was empty. She sat on the floor and drew her legs up, willing the panic away. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn't get a proper breath in soon, she knew. Miley pushed herself up, fumbling for the ratty old sweatshirt she'd thrown over the chair earlier. Pain raced through her leg and the brunette bit her lip, taking another half breath. She pulled the sweater over her head and stumbled towards the door. Her chest ached and even as the cool night air hit her, oxygen refused to enter her lungs.

It was pitch black in the compound, only a few safety lights were on here and there, but Miley had lived there long enough to know her way around. She made her way up the slope towards the dining hall, the only building with lights still shining through its windows. It wasn't until pebbles bit sharply into the soles of her feet that she realized she was barefoot. Miley wrapped her arms around her torso, trying for another deep breath. A little more air entered her lungs than before, but her chest was so tight and her ribs ached and her head swam and her leg throbbed and she wanted to sit down and never move again. Miley pushed on, ignoring the rocks digging into her feet, pushing down the nausea.

The windows of the dining hall were open and she could hear quiet talking, occasionally interrupted by deep laughter. She hesitated outside the double doors then stepped inside. The large room was empty except for a group of people sitting at one of the long tables, playing cards. A fire burned in the fireplace to the side and Miley wrapped her arms around herself again. She knew she probably looked pathetic standing there, gasping for breath, face pale and sweaty, shaking and barefooted, but she didn't care what those people thought. There was only one person she cared about.

A slim man with salt and pepper hair noticed her first, watching her standing there for several seconds before looking at the blonde across from him. "Hey Lilly, your girlfriend's here," he said, jokingly, yet his voice held a condescending tone.

Lilly only spared him a millisecond glare before turning around. She only had to take one look at Miley before she jumped up, tossing her cards onto the table and leaving with nothing but a nod to the guys. She made her way over to the brunette, trying not to make a huge scene, but secretly she was worried. Miley looked awful.

When she reached her friend, she put a hand on the girl's upper arm to guide her outside. She felt her friend shaking and frowned. As soon as they stepped into the cool air Miley faltered and nearly fell, but Lilly wrapped her arms around her from behind to hold her up.

"Miles, what's wrong?" Lilly asked softly, turning the girl around in her arms. Miley laid her head against Lilly's shoulder, wrapping her trembling arms around the other girl and drew another shuddering breath. The blonde ran her hands softly across her friend's back.

Miley relaxed into Lilly's embrace and took a deep breath; the ache in her chest lessened and the dizziness faded away. She felt silly now, standing here, to have panicked like that over a dumb dream. She sighed. "Just a bad dream."

Lilly pressed her cheek against the soft, brunette hair and sighed as well. Bad dream was probably an understatement, considering the panicked state she'd found her friend in. But she was willing to let it slide; Miley seemed to be doing better now.

"Wanna talk about it?" the blonde asked softly and felt Miley shake her head. Lilly pulled away and wrapped an arm around the other girl's waist, "Let's just go back to bed, okay?"

Miley stiffened, but let herself be pulled along by the blonde. Lilly noticed she was limping slightly, but decided not to say anything, instead pulling her along in silence. They entered their shack and Lilly gently pushed Miley onto the bed. It was fairly cold, even inside, and seeing the brunette shuddering, Lilly went to the wardrobe and took out two more itchy wool blankets. She spread one over the bed and draped the other around Miley, then kicked off her boots and pants and climbed onto the bed.

"Did you dream about Adrian…when he…" Lilly trailed off, not sure she could bring herself to say it either. Those had undoubtedly been the worst 24 hours of her life.

Miley nodded curtly, feeling the panic rise again as she thought about her dream. She felt Lilly pull her backwards, farther onto the bed. The blonde rested her back against the wall, stretching her legs out in front of her and pulled Miley into her lap. The brunette curled up against her friend, head resting against Lilly's belly. Lilly ran her hands soothingly through the brown hair and Miley closed her eyes, feeling the panic ebb away.

"Does your leg hurt again?" Lilly said softly, not ceasing her ministrations on her friend's hair. Miley nodded weakly against her, the continuous throbbing in her leg abating with each comforting beat of Lilly's heart.

"Want me to get you something? I know Dave can be a hard ass, but I'm sure I could sneak some Motrin or something."

Miley shook her head, cursing the panic that rose at the mere thought of Lilly leaving her. She curled her fingers around the hem of the blonde's shirt, "No, it's fine. Just don't go, okay?"

Lilly nodded, though Miley couldn't see, continuing to stroke the brunette's hair. Miley's body was warm against her own and she loved the way they fit together so perfectly. They sat in silence, each listening to the other's breathing, feeling the beating of the other's heart. It was several minutes before Miley spoke again.

"I really miss them, you know." Her voice was soft and almost inaudible. Lilly didn't have to ask whom she meant, she knew all too well. Their parents, as much of a pain as they'd been in their teenage years, would be nothing short of salvation now. Oliver, best guy friend a girl could have, who probably had to find out about the kidnapping from the TV news. Even annoying Jackson, a stupid comment or prank always at the ready, would make her heart rejoice. Being blackmailed by Rico, a rude comment by Ashley or Amber, Ms Kunkle berating her in class, Hannah's nasally challenged friend Tracy – Lilly missed it all.

"The last time…my dad heard my voice…when Adrian…and it hurts to know how much that…must've hurt him," Miley mumbled, her voice cracking.

Lilly felt her heart in her throat, she had never even thought about that. Adrian had held up that phone and Miley had called for her dad and then…Lilly closed her eyes briefly at the memory. The last time Mr. Stewart would have heard his daughter's voice had been her agonizing screams for him after Adrian shot her. Lilly shuddered. She'd been there when it happened and though she knew Miley was okay, the memories still made her throat close up.

"Hey, come on," Lilly said softly after composing herself, "he loved you so much; he wouldn't want you beating yourself up over something like that. We're still here, aren't we? Come hell or high water…you and me Miles, through it all."

Miley nodded against her and Lilly could feel her body relaxing even more into hers. Cold air drafted in through the wooden slats and she drew the blanket tighter around the brunette. Miley was asleep within minutes, but Lilly sat there for a while longer, hand still stroking her friend's hair.

..

The air's so heavy/ It could drown a butterfly/ If it flew too high/ And I get the feeling/ That the truck driver ain't shy/ Cause he's looking at me/ But nowhere near my eyes/ And on the 35th morning/ Things ain't good/ But things ain't boring/ -Grace Potter & The Nocturnals