Brave - Part 1

"Shit," Shelby cursed aloud, scanning the sides of the road. She had forgotten to buy white tea. It was all Rachel would ever drink when she was over these days. Hot white tea, cold white tea, white tea with soy milk. It was her daughter's new thing. Before that, it was green tea, and then Shelby had gone crazy when shopping in some vegan place in Boston and taken home packages and packages of every single imported, organic, flavored or not tea she could find in that place, and Rachel had spent a few weeks drinking crazy amounts of different teas.

And as anything Rachel did, all that experimenting was coupled with extensive reviews and side notes. Rachel would call her all day long to say that she was trying the vanilla with raspberry or mint organic one, how they tasted, and how she felt about them. Those talks could be endless, really. But when she wasn't highly amused by the intensity of the girl, she just pretended that she was anyway. She knew it wasn't good that she still felt the need to tip-toe around Rachel, especially because Beth was the toddler in this scenario, but she just regarded it as karma. The music teacher wasn't willing to cause any more devastation, not in the respect of her children, at least.

Seeing a convenience store in a gas station, she parked, went inside and prayed. But of course, white tea, the one Rachel had finally settled for, wasn't the place's forte. "Shit," she cursed again, staring at a freezer in desolation and trying to identify any beverage that would do the trick. There was no way she could turn around and go to the market right now. She had given Mary the weekend off, because Rachel had a ballet recital tomorrow and Will was still being kept at arm's length for the time being. So her teenage daughter was stopping by today, more precisely in two hours, so they could talk. Or rather, Shelby could listen to her babbling about that idiotic male lead she was in love with, give her some advice and hope that she would take it and wouldn't start spreading the Corcoran exceptional genetic material by mixing it with that of Finn Hudson.

"Anything I can do to help you?" Shelby skewed her head right, towards the voice, and eyed the guy warily. He didn't look like he worked there, and usually she would just be annoyed, but a chill went up her spine and Shelby Corcoran was a woman who trusted her instincts. She gave him her best fake warm smile.

"No, thank you." Then she stepped around and made a quick a dash for the door. However, another man blocked her path before she could get off the aisle.

"Well, maybe you could help us." Fright crept up on her, but if there was one thing she got from Broadway, it was an unmatchable show face. Serene, she just waited. She wasn't going to affront them, as it would must certainly backslash, but her fear was safely out of eye sight. The first guy that had approached her started closing in.

"Don't scream," he whispered and she nodded. She wasn't planning to, anyhow. Shelby Corcoran only screamed at people.

"Do you have a car?" The man in front of her asked, and she once again just moved her head positively. She had her freaking keys in her left hand, how was she going to lie about this? This one that was blocking her, he seemed meaner. He was taller, and scruffy, and just had a general dirty and brutal flare. The other was gentle, and had quietude about him, and that was what terrorized Shelby the most. She was like that, so she had learned it was a very dangerous thing. Calm hid away the worst thoughts and behaviors, and when everything just exploded into the surface, it was not a sight to behold.

Mean One tilted the head sideways, to indicate that she should go out. But of course Shelby was not going to make this easy. Understanding that she needed a little more persuasion, he pulled the leather jacket and hoodie up, so she could see the gun in his waist band. Not reacting to that took all of her skills and training, and stoicism, and even more of it when her mind decided to become her enemy number one and pour into her all of these images and sensations of little moments she had had with her two daughters. Brain survival tactics could be perverse.

Shelby walked out, keeping in mind that she couldn't die. Didn't want to, but mostly couldn't, not orphaning two kids. Rachel would be fine parent-wise, but she would react to it like it was the apocalypse. And Beth, well, she just hadn't figured out that scenario quite yet, and that was the worst. Since she hadn't gone about changing the will, Beth could go to anyone, even the foster system and for that she would be forever damned. Even if she knew that, deep down, she was overreacting in her mind, and Beth would likely go to her next of kin, her sister Meredith in this case. And Mer was a responsible person, successful doctor, wonderful human being and everything else.

They escorted her, not touching her, thank God, but not leaving her much space to try anything. She could try to run, but she was sure the guy behind her, Calm One, would take only a second to grab her. So she let herself be ushered into the vehicle, clutched the wheel in her slightly sweaty hands, arched her back high and straight, and looked straight forward, waiting for them to tell her what to do.

"Take that exit." Shelby obeyed, still trying not to loose her mind, but already doing so discreetly. They had already taken her out of the city, and a few miles more, she would be lost. Driving trough rural Ohio was not her favorite hobby. Also, the more secluded the place, the more privacy they would have to do whatever they wanted with her. Tensing, and feeling her hand twitch like it did in Boston, Shelby tried to focus on breathing correctly and not thinking about the hand, or she would just cry. Calm Guy, who was sitting next to her on the front, must have noticed it.

"We won't hurt you," he stated almost soothingly.

"Right," she spat skeptically and then screamed in her mind: Fuck! She didn't mean to say that, and now she knew she was officially screwed.

"Ooh, someone is snappy." She wanted to shake her head and deny it, but she didn't see how desperation would work in her favor in this case. So she just kept her eyes front, and hoped they would drop it. But of course, Mean Guy, who was in the backseat, wouldn't.

"Let's see who Feisty here is." No, no, no, no! She glanced at him trough the rearview mirror in mild panic, and watched as he picked up her bag, wanting nothing more than to stop the car and take it from his hands. She was terrified of him going trough her personal things, but if she had any instinct of self-preservation, it was working on full mode, because she just couldn't move.

"Shelby Corcoran," he announced loudly. Somehow, her beloved name sounded disgusting coming from his mouth. "Only one credit card?" She confirmed, though it wasn't true. She had three, but she had given the MasterCard to Mary in case of emergencies and the Amex always stayed home. She only ever used it in shopping sprees and trips. "And three hundred dollars? But I don't buy that you're poor. Look at this ride." Shelby definitely wasn't poor, but the damned Range Rover had been a gift. The minute Shelby finally mustered the courage to tell him that, "Don't Rain on My Parade" blasted trough the car and she almost died of sheer terror.

"Your kid?" Mean Guy asked her, looking at the photo of Rachel that always appeared when she called. "No. A student. I'm a teacher," she managed to get out, her breath a little ragged.

"Pretty," he added, making her recoil in revulsion and ire. He pressed 'Ignore' and started going through her phone, and she knew she had to stop him somehow. She didn't want this guy coming across the images of Beth, Rachel and Will she stored at her cell. Or even the few pictures she reserved as memorabilia from her former students. She was just too scared they would threaten them, and Shelby knew she would do anything if they did.

"We can go to an ATM. If money is the point of this."

"If money was the point of this sweetie, you would be in the trunk and I'd be calling your hubby right now to ask for a ransom." Mean Guy shot at her with a sarcastic grin. So, she had been picked at chance. That much she had already guessed. If they were after her, they wouldn't have seized her from a well lit, not totally deserted and certainly filmed store.

"Turn that off," Calm guy requested and thankfully, was heard. "And we're going to be hitting that ATM next city." Shelby just acquiesced wordlessly and let her mind wander into her others concerns for a little while.

Shelby was troubled that Mary hadn't called yet. She always called the nanny to let her know when she was going to be late, even if it was just a few minutes, and she was already very much off-hours.

Shelby had to be grateful for her own paranoia, though. A few months back, she had created two contact sheets and handled them to Mary, just in case. One was if she was out of touch, like today, and Mary couldn't stay and wait. Those were the people she could trust Beth to. It was a pretty short list, with Will coming in first, and in case he couldn't (or wouldn't) watch the baby, Mary should drop her at the Berrys.

Rachel's fathers were not her biggest fans, but she doubted they would throw a little baby into a dumpster. Then it went on to Haylee, who she trusted very much as a baby sitter. She was good and responsible. Other babysitters were listed too, and last case scenario, there was the number to Quinn. The other contact sheet was people who needed to be warned in case something happened to her, and that contact list came with copies that should be handled to Will, the Berrys and etc, in case both events overlapped. It contained her sister, her father, Connor, Sean, Jesse and Alexandra, besides Will and Rachel, of course. Those were the people she knew would surely want to know if something grave happened to her. Well, with the exception of her father, but there was always the small possibility he would make the effort to get out of his reclusion if his elder child was dying. She wouldn't hold her breath, though.

They entered the city and Calm Guy started scanning around. Shelby tried to find a bank in the GPS, but was having a hard time finding the whole city. At last they passed an ATM and Shelby hit the brakes, clumsily parking near the corner. Calm Guy turned around and asked for the gun and her bag, and eventually made his way around the car to help her out. Another woman made her way to the ATM and Calm Guy steered her back, pressing the gun against her back discretely. The winter was really hitting Ohio hard that year, and everyone was using heavy clothes and tones of layers, so it was easy to hide a small handgun between them.

When the woman was done she turned towards them and offered them a small smile. Shelby had never really understood these naturally sympathetic people, who would just smile kindly at a stranger in the street. However, she felt grateful. She had never needed free kindness more than at that very moment.

They walked up to the ATM and Shelby withdraw as much money as she could and gave it Calm Guy, but he just instructed her to put it in her purse as he already escorted her back to the car.

Shelby could feel all of her neuroses flashing sirens into her head all at once. It was the most inappropriate time to be worrying about such things as proper hygiene, but she couldn't help feeling nauseated by that place. She eyed both beds suspiciously, not surprisingly the best they came up with in the side of the road motel they had landed in after driving all night was a double bedroom, and decided that she wasn't even going to bother waiting for them to consider giving her one or not. She walked to the farthest side of the room, leaned on the wall and gracefully lowered herself. Ironically, the floor was the safest place when it came to possible body fluids in a dump like that.

"You can have the bed," Calm One told her gently.

"I think I'm fine. Thank you, though," she replied carefully, not wanting to repeat the same mistake she had committed in the car by seeming like too much of a smart ass. He looked at the bed and nodded understandingly, proceeding to sit down in some very uncomfortable chair. Mean One walked in with a beer in hand, and they both looked at him like he was a lunatic, though by now they shouldn't be surprised by the fact that he would turn out to be the kind of guy that's already drowning his alcohol at 6 in the morning. She watched him quickly finish the can while Calm Guy sighed in frustration but stood up and closed the door after his partner and the curtains. Mean One removed his shoes and dropped in the bed near the door, starting to snort about 30 seconds later.

Calm guy crossed the room and pointed at the TV. "Do you wanna see anything?"

"I don't really watch television," she responded quietly, never quite summoning the courage to take her eyes off the floor.

"Yeah. Me neither." Shelby heard him going through her bag, and her heart started pounding, but she kept her eyes trained in a red spot on the floor that looked a lot like blood. 'Fitting,' she thought bitterly.

"Can I read this?" Calm Guy asked timidly, and she still didn't face him. She didn't have to look up to know he was talking about the Plato book she was carrying. She wasn't actually reading it. A student had borrowed almost a year ago and just given back to her that very day. "Sure. You can keep it if you want." She meant it. She had read it three times already and it wasn't some special edition thing or anything. She probably had another one somewhere.

Shelby bit a nail and then cursed inwardly for indulging in that. She had stopped with nervous nail biting years ago, and it had taken a lot of strength to pull it off. She knew people who had quit smoking with less drama then her. But then again, she had started the biting just after her mother passed away, and as much as it was an anxiety symptom, it was something that she did to comfort herself in times of great distress. It was kind of disgusting, but it worked.

The only other thing that ever suited her was singing, so she just started humming something cheerful in her head. Some stuff of the plays she had done in New York, as part of the chorus or as an understudy, yes, but nevertheless, it was the frustrated expectations that made her miserable. Being in the plays was really quite fun, even if she never got to be the star. A few hours later she saw Mean Guy wake up, get up from the bed and turn on the TV, and she was starting to feel her stomach hurt from hunger, but neither she nor Calm Guy made to move. Out of songs to perform in her head, Shelby started to plan Beth's one year birthday party. She was a little distracted then when there was a soft knock on the door, and the time it took for her brain to process it was just the enough amount of time for Calm Guy to launch himself at her and cover her mouth, muffling her pleas for help before they could be of any effect. His other arm wrapped around her torso, and he quickly half-pulled, half-carried her into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

"Who is this?" she barely heard Mean Guy asking.

"The manager. There was a problem with your credit card." They had tried to use her credit card? Were they serious? Two guys using a credit card with the identification 'Shelby Amelia Corcoran' on it? Shelby could feel Calm Guy's collarbone pressing against the back of her skull, and she just let out a small yelp of pain against his hand. He clamped it tighter, and started to basically asphyxiate her.

"Be quiet," he hissed in her ear. Shelby stopped struggling, because if she kept up with that she would smother much faster, and tried to remember something from her innumerous breathing techniques that could help her live through this. She was coming up empty though, and her lungs were burning up. She couldn't hear much of what was being discussed outside, but she thought she listened to Mean Guy saying she was his sister and she was in the bathroom, and something about paying in cash. The arm that was crushing her torso left, and she took the opportunity to raise her hands and try and wrest away the hand covering her mouth. She managed to do just that the second the gun was pressed into her neck.

"I won't scream," she muttered quickly before he could shut her up again, or worst, shoot her. He obliged to her, and she let her head fall on his shoulders, not thinking too much of it, and also tried to ignore that business end of that gun still very much aimed for a fatal shot against her head. Shelby took big gulps of air, her eyes tearing up a bit. "You were suffocating me," she explained weakly, trying not to faint on top of him. His arm circled her waist once more, but this time he was just trying to hold her up.

"Sorry. I didn't notice." She wasn't sure if he was sincere, and she didn't care. Mean Guy knocked on the door to let them know the manager was gone. Calm Guy pushed her to the toilet seat and made her sit down. Shelby closed her eyes and rubbed her chest, trying to get her breathing to normal levels. Calm Guy kneed in front of her, a cold look in his eyes.

"Do not try to do that again," he warned her, the gun still held in front of her. There was something cold and dangerous about his tone, and she just nodded.

"Sorry. Reflex." She wasn't completely lying. It was a quick reflex, but she wasn't sorry. What she had done had been dangerous, to be honest, because the best it was going to get her was the police surrounding that place with her trapped inside a room with those two psychopaths. She could even imagine her teenage daughter watching this on TV and quivered with dreadfulness. But again, they were keeping her captive and she had little hope they would let her go unharmed. She had seen their faces. Did they really expect her not to try and signal to somebody that she needed help?

Calm Guy got up and had walked back to the room, when Mean One came in the opposite direction, fuming. "You think you can scream your way out of this, you bitch?" Shelby jerked her head up at the name. She had been called that a lot of times. So many times, she had appropriated herself of the insult and turned it into something she could act proud of. She actually preferred they see her as a bitch than be considered a scared puppy.

Shelby arched her chin up, and met his glare with a defiant look.

Calm Guy grabbed his arm and didn't let him go for her. "Leave her alone."

Mean Guy shot him a devious glare. It was obvious those two didn't like each other. "So, you get all the fun?" Calm Guy stared back at him like he was the most repulsive person in the whole world. And as far as Shelby was concerned, he could make top 5 easily.

Shelby took a deep breath and then dragged herself back into the room and to her corner. She wanted to curl into a ball and weep, but she wouldn't give them that satisfaction. The duo strode outside for a minute to talk and Shelby looked around for her things. She could try making a dash for her purse and locking herself up in the bathroom. But then what? Call Will and beg him to come and rescue her? Call the police and get SWAT all over this hell? She wasn't even sure they had put her Blackberry back at her handbag. And the punishment for trying that sure wouldn't be nice if she failed. Just like in the bathroom she felt that the more she tried to put up a fight, the sooner she would end up hurt or dead. It was so frustrating, she wanted to scream.

Shelby had never had one submissive bone in her body. She could never have imagined motherhood would change her so much. She at least wanted to believe that it was the courageous and smart part of her, and not the coward one, that made her so compliant, calm and reasonable throughout that ordeal.

She was startled out of her reverie by Calm Guy coming back in and walking up to her. "Are you hungry?" he asked kindly.

"A little bit." She tried not to sound too small, but her throat hadn't recovered and she could barely produce sound.

"Would a salad be okay?"

Shelby just assented, grateful. She watched as he took money from her wallet and got out, and just then started thinking that if he was gone, she would be all alone with Mean Guy. She turned her head to face the wall and tried to once again distract herself, but couldn't. Which was possibly good, because minutes after she heard the door click, she felt him hovering above her. Shelby felt her mouth get very dry and swallowed hard.

"Now, now. You haven't been a very good girl, have you? But we'll solve that problem," he hissed mockingly and menacingly all at the same time.

A/N: I decided not to put a note on the beginning to not ruin the tension. But I know this chapter was fairly evil. Don't kill me, though! Do remember Shelby's fate is resting on my hands…

I must confess (I've confessed to some people already, actually) that writing this made me feel terrible. I blame all the fluffiness of this fic on it, because I couldn't stop writing cute, sweet things afterwards. Gorgeous was pretty much born after this (yes, I have a weird writing method where everything is done out of order, and then redone to adapt to new things I wrote). So I guess it wasn't all bad that once upon a time, I was in a mood, and ended up writing this. Now, if you excuse me, I'll go finish rewriting Part 2, and try to convince myself I'm not a terrible person.

Review! I really want to hear your opinions on this one! Even if it is a statement of how much you hate me.