Both John finding Ted and Mark finding Phil happen at the same time, just so no one gets confused.

John trudged over Batista's limp form, resisting the urge to smash his heel down into the man's face. He maneuvered up the stairs, gesturing up when he saw the close was clear.

Randy was the one to follow him, ready to help in any way he could.

With his back up behind him, John continued up into the second story of the house. It seemed so normal, behind it's plain wallpapered walls lay secrets. Now all he had to do was unravel them. Ted had to be somewhere in this house, and from the way Dave came down without a shirt on…he must be up here. The bastard was probably raping him not minutes before they'd arrived.

If only we'd been faster, if only I'd been smarter…

It wouldn't help anyone to think like that now. Later, when Ted was safely tucked away in his bed again, would he finally allow himself to break down. He crept along, opening every door along the way. A bathroom, a spare room, a closet…

"John."

He turned, giving Randy a questioning look.

"There" Randy breathed gesturing to the far end of the house. John followed his line of sight, spotting a door that was shut tight. The only difference between this door and the rest of them left was the doorknob…there was blood smeared along the golden surface. Crimson fingerprints across the white-painted surface, along the doorframe, showing that someone had stood there and watched something inside.

Or someone.

John all but ran, twisting the knob roughly and throwing it open. He got a strong scent of blood and sweat, of sex, of torture. The sight on the bed was enough to twist his insides, he could hear Randy gag somewhere behind him.

It was his Teddy, that was for sure. He was bound up on the bed, some kind of collar-leash-leather combo that kept him on his knees, bent over, chest hovering over the bed. His tail laid limply across his legs, curled a bit to show he was in pain, some bits of it tinged with blood. His ears were pinned back, hair and soft fur wet with sweat.

John tried to stay calm, but his frantic run to the bed revealed his anxiety. He let his eyes rove over his pet, trying to get over the shock and get him out of this.

"Teddy…" John murmured, sadly, seeing the wounds and knowing he was too late to save him from the fate he'd feared. Signs of torture branded his body, marring every inch. Welts striped across his thighs and back, thick, some even split to reveal the crimson lurking beneath. He'd seen these type of wounds before, they were made by a flogger. There were mild burns over his chest, along his sides, and when he peered under he saw more severe burns ones along his ribs. Looking like wax had been burned into his flesh. There was a long cut along his pec, small burns around the gash. Dark crimson bites spattered his body, seeming to decorate every spare patch of skin that wasn't stained with any other mar.

Randy saw the locked cuffs, leaving the room when he got an idea.

John tilted back, letting out a hiss as he saw signs of rape. His poor boy, his hole was red and swollen, blood and cum still sticking to his thighs. He was used just recently…the glisten of essence still fresh…

Batista.

And there on his pet's neck, hanging down and brushing the sheets…his dog tags.

John took an edge of the sheet, wiping away the excess, ignoring the strained whimper from the boy. Once he was done, he tossed it aside. Hoping to reassure him, he laid a hand along his boy's shoulder, being careful not to brush against any of his wounds. Ted tensed at the contact, a soft sob escaping him. It broke Cena's heart to see his love so broken, so vulnerable.

"Shh, Teddy, it's me" John cooed, fingering the back of the ball gag to figure out how to undo it.

Ted's eyes pried open, more tears spilling as he tried to see if this mirage was real. A muffled John? came from him, confusion on his face. When he felt the buckle start to loosen, relief flooded his features. John's careful fingers eased the leather from his skin with a sick peeling sound, gently easing down his jaw so he could pry the ball gag from his mouth. His lips were slick with saliva, he desperately swallowed down the excess saliva. The once-thin whisker cuts on his cheeks were a bit deeper now from the corner of his mouth to the swell of his apple cheeks. He was flushed, panting desperately, working his jaw hesitantly to make sure he hadn't hurt anything permanently.

John brushed away his love's tears, wishing he could take it all away, "I'm here for you, Teddy. I've got you, kitten."

"Master, please" Ted pleaded, aching for the man to hold him and make everything okay again.

Randy came back in, going over to his friend and slipping him a key, "Batista had it in his pocket."

John nodded, going for the collar first. The key fit, and with one swift turn the leather fell away. He knelt on the bed, easing behind him a bit to work on the other bindings. Soon enough, he discarded the wrist and shin cuffs.

Ted collapsed atop the bed, groaning as the sheets rubbed against his wounds. His wrists were rubbed raw, every muscle ached horribly. He felt his master get off the bed, and he wanted to call out for him. He wanted to beg him not to leave, to forgive him, to hold him. He shifted, trying to sit up, but collapsed with a pathetic whimper. Not only were his muscles sore, they had turned into useless jelly. He could do nothing more than lay in his own filth, the scent of his own burned flesh and the tang of blood filled his mouth, drowning his senses.

A warm quilt was draped over his shoulders, soothing and covering his chilled skin. He shuddered at the contact, large hands gripping his arms softly and easing him up into a sitting position. He protested for a moment, but stopped when a kiss was brushed across his neck.

"It's just me, kitten" John crooned, wrapping the large blanket around his pet's bare form "I've got you, I've got you from now on. You're safe."

Ted curled his arms weakly around his master's neck, eyes falling closed, "B-Batista…"

"I know" John assured him, keeping his tone light as he picked his boy up bridal style "He won't touch you again."

Ted was glad his master was here for him at last, that he still wanted to touch him. He didn't have the energy to do more than nose at the base of his neck, to brush chaste kisses on the exposed skin above his collar. He wanted to be home now, but he had a feeling home was a long way away.

John's broken heart mended as his boy showed him affection, dropping a kiss into his hair in return. He carried Ted out of there, hoping that Undertaker had planned for this. He hadn't known what to expect, but he didn't think it was this bad. He got to the top of the steps, scowling when he saw Dave still lying there.

"Move this big lug, will ya?" John demanded, glad to see Randy and Mike both grab a leg and yank the Animal down the rest of the stairs "Where's Shawn?"

Miz gasped as he caught sight of the cuts and bite welts shoving above the blanket, "Fuck! Is he alright?"

"I hope so" John looked down into his dozing baby's face, then back to the Orton "Where's 'Taker and Shawn?"

Randy was a little pale, "They found Phil."

xXx

While John headed upstairs for his pet, Mark went in search of his own. He went through the whole first level of the house, checking every room but coming up short. There was no hidden hall, no mysterious blood patterns, no anything that would tell him where Phil was. He went full rotation, ending up right back in the kitchen. But he was a smart man, and when he found a remote on the counter, he knew Phil was close. He slipped the device into his back pocket, knowing he'd need it.

Very close.

Mark started searching the wall, feeling along every crevice and bump. If his brother was anything like him, he was just as sneaky and mysterious.

At last, he found a door shaped indent along the side of the staircase. Surely he hadn't kept Phil under the stairs?! That bastard! He found the middle of the cut space with his palms, applying pressure until it sunk in. It slid onto a track, which allowed him to push it aside. The hall light spilled past him, revealing a staircase.

"A fuckin' cellar?" Mark growled, looking over his shoulder at his brother's limp form "A real heartless pig, aren't you?"

There was no light to turn on, all he had was the light from above. With a thought of his love, he took the first step. He took the stairs slowly, letting his eyes adjust, tensing as he realized how cold it was down here. If he weren't the Phenom, it would've been a rather frightening place. Cement walls, no light, cold temperature…

Mark descended all the way down, the rest of the cellar coming into view. What he saw made his stomach clench, The Undertaker himself…felt ill and disgusted. There was a single mattress at the far side of the cellar, dirty and bare except for a single form stretched out along it. A pale figure, almost glowing except for stains of ink on their skin. Dark hair, dark lacquer nails biting into the surface of the mattress.

Mark took long strides across the cement floor, eating up the distance with his long legs. He knelt gracefully beside the bed, looking over the broken body of his pet. His brother had taken his trunks from him, leaving him bare except for his kickpads. They were the only scrap of clothing he had left, leaving nothing for his modesty. Thick cuffs wrapped around his forearms, chains latched to them and leading into the wall. He physically ached seeing his pet sunk so low, but it hurt worse to see the raw burn along his back. The flesh was raw, white in some places, and it would scar horribly.

The stench of vinegar lingering in the air told Mark all he needed to know.

Lye.

//That's low, even for you, brother.//

The only comfort he took from this was the slow, even breathing he could see. Phil was alive.

"Phillip…" Mark murmured lowly, letting his palm drop down to cover the back of his pet's neck. He stroked the raven strands aside, sighing as he touched chilled skin. He saw the ink there, his symbol, and he knew he had to get his boy out of here as soon as possible.

Soft footsteps echoed behind him, signaling his right hand man, "Damn, 'Taker…"

Mark opened his mouth to give a command, but his throat was dry. He cleared his, wet his lips, then tried again.

"Get me a towel" Mark stated "And a blanket.."

Shawn nodded though his leader couldn't see him, making his way back up the stairs.

"Phil?" Mark inquired, stroking back his boys inky locks to reveal his pale face "Wake up, now."

"Mark?" Phil breathed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. It took some time for him to rouse from the deep sleep he'd slipped into, but the warm strokes down his arms and through his hair helped bring him around. He was still shivering lightly, waking to realize his stomach was cramping from hunger and his mouth was dry. He groaned in pain, trying to curl up on himself, but stinging pain shot up his spine.

Olive eyes cracked open, finding none other than his master's face looking down on him.

"There's my prince" Mark tried for a smile, but he couldn't quite do it. Phil was peering up at him so innocently, looking like he did that time years ago when it was just the two of them in the dressing room.

"If you want me, then have me. If I were to submit to anyone, it would be you."

"Master" Phil tried to sit up, but he couldn't.

"Don't" Mark cupped the back of his head, getting a sweet whine of relief from his boy "Don't move. You're hurt."

"Sorry" Phil murmured, already slipping off.

Shawn came back down the stairs, both items in hand. He came up behind his leader, offering him the towel first. Mark accepted it, making sure the fluffy fabric was clean before unfolding it. He laid it along his pet's back, using it as a makeshift bandage until he could get it properly looked at. Next he wrapped his nearly naked shivering pet in the warm blanket, pulling him into a sitting position.

Phil's head drooped a bit, but he arched and screamed when his master laid a hand on his back, "Oh God, p-please don't…don't…"

"Hush now, my boy, I've got you" Mark rumbled, his voice soothing the younger man. After a moment, he decided he couldn't carry him any other way. He was strong enough, Punk was light enough, it would work.

"Come here" Mark pulled him into his arms, hooking his arms under his legs and pulling him into his lap like a child "Hold tightly, boy, or I'll drop you."

Phil mumbled something that sounded like an apology into his neck, obeying and clinging to his master with all his strength. With a soft humph, Mark stood and kept his boy tight to his body. It was easy, it seemed his pet had lost a few pounds. After his body getting used to eating and working out at regular intervals, the dramatic change had sent Phil's body into overdrive and he'd burned off any excess fat. A handful of pounds, but enough to make a difference. His nude form was covered by the blankets, his master's body heat only warming him further.

Shawn moved out of the way, letting his leader do as he pleased, //Poor boy…//

xXx

Miz and Randy had worked together, managing to load Kane's heavy body in one Hummer and that steroid-induced turncoat Batista into the other. John stood in the living room, refusing to set his pet down for a moment. He watched Mark ascend from the cellar, a blanket-clad punk in his arms.

"We can't take them on a plane" John blurted out as the other two masters came inside again, Shawn following his leader up from the basement.

"You're right" Mark admitted, his love's arms tightening around his neck "We could drive if we had to."

"That's roughly…two hundred and sixty miles back…divided by…" Randy struggled, he wasn't much of a match person "Roughly sixty miles per hour on wheels. How long would that take?"

You could practically hear the sound of tax-calculators above all their heads, none were in a state to think of math of all thing. They were men of action, of health, wrestling, physical activity.

"Four hours…thirty three minutes" Ted murmured, picking his head up off his master's shoulder and sniffing "Do I smell raw flesh?"

The sweet-scent met his nose, and when he looked over to Punk he knew.

"Oh God" Ted moaned, tears coming to his eyes "I-Is he okay? H-He was in the house?"

"Shhh, kitten" John soothed him, glancing up at his leader "Your call."

"We'll drive" Mark decided without any real hesitation, he couldn't take the two injured subs out into public like this "We'll head for Matt's house after we get rid of the baggage."

They agreed, that was the plane of action

"Shawn, Randy…you drive."

"Should we…I don't know" Mike peered around the house "Should we burn it down?"

"The house?" Shawn parroted, amazed by the youngest's proposal.

"There's blood evidence everywhere" Miz explained "In the basement, the upstairs…"

"We don't need to worry about any questions" Mark carried his pet towards the door, a grim expression on his face "All we need to worry about is what's in the trunk of those cars. All our concerns…are for where their bodies will go."

xXx

They were back on the road soon enough, heading for quiet cemetery. Twilight was just starting to fall, giving them plenty of time. It was like a macabre countdown, each minute that ticked off was one less minute of life that the unconscious men had left.

Mark sat in the back of the SUV, his pet half laying on him. He kept a firm arm around his waist, letting him get the sleep he so desperately needed. He was still shivering a bit, and Mark could feel his rubs a bit more than he used to.

Kane's body was in the back, unaware and unable to harm them.

Mark let his fingers dance over his pet's cheek, surprised to find the skin slick. He tilted Phil's head up, peering down to see his boy was silently crying.

"Phil?" he inquired, fearing that there was another pain in his boy that he'd somehow missed.

" 'M sorry" Phil murmured, voice raspy and eyes still clenched shut "I let him…h-he…I tried to be strong for you, for the others, like you told m-me to be…but then he poured that shit on me, and I just couldn't do it anymore…I-" Phil bit out the next word, tasting venom on his tongue "-submitted to him. God, it hurt so much."

Mark gave a heavy sigh, realizing his worst fear. His pet who had known only his intimate touch had been soiled by his brother, taken carelessly in an act of revenge. Kane wouldn't have found it in his cold heart to appreciate his sub's masculine beauty, to take care not to ruin him, he must've been torn horribly. Never once had he been too rough with his prince, but his bastard of a brother seen fit to rape what wasn't his to touch.

"I betrayed you" Phil dropped his eyes, he couldn't bear the thought of his master hating him. Would Mark find him disgusting? Discard him? Nothing else in the world mattered more -not his pain, not his career- than Mark's love.

"No, Phil, you didn't" Mark assured him, carding his fingers gently through raven hair "You're mine, and you'll always be mine. He took advantage of you at your weakest, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Did you fight as hard as you could?"

"He'll find all of you. He's going to slaughter all you sick fucks."

Phil nodded, thinking of how he had resisted Kane's blatant advances.

"Then hush" Mark cradled the back of his pet's neck with one large palm, letting him rest on his shoulder.

"The others…Cody…." Phil muttered, recalling what Kane had said to him "Are they hurt too? Is Ted okay?"

"They're hurt, but fine" Mark struggled to explain "Cody was-"

"-pregnant" Punk sighed, hating that he already knew "The baby?"

Shawn tensed a bit, glancing into the rearview mirror to get a view of Randy behind them.

Mark closed his eyes, "Lost."

"Bastards" the Straightedge groaned, heart breaking for the boy "All of them."

"Rest."

Phil obeyed, burying his face in his master's chest and drifting off a bit. Mark pulled the blanket further around his muscular frame, making sure his pet was warm enough and well covered. He'd need more peaceful sleep before could eat or drink, his body was struggling to adapt back to heat and comfort. Later he'd make sure Punk's belly was full…but now, all he could offer was his touch.

And safety.

In the other Hummer, Randy was at the wheel with a rather nervous Miz beside him.

"We're really gong to kill them?" Mike inquired for the fourth time since they'd left.

"Stone-cold dead" Randy replied in a hushed tone, conscious of the sleeping sub they had in the vehicle. John was in the back coddling his pet, letting him stretch his long body all out along the seat. His head was in his master's lap, his legs flexing gratefully along the leather surface. After being bound up for days, his body was begging to stretch. Though all sides of him were marred, he'd slept on his back, quilt pillowing out any friction between his skin and the seat.

John was gazing down at him in lovingly, though his thoughts were all jumbled and his emotions were in disarray. How could he have let Ted fall into Batista's hands? Why did he let him out of his sight? If he'd have smashed Dave's skull in years ago when he first touched Ted, none of this would've happened. He should've spoken out more against Batista's membership, done more to convict him…

John was tracing his own dog tags around his boy's neck, memorizing the sensation of the cold metal and the blonde's hot skin.

"He never took them off me, I think it some kinda mind-fuck trick" Ted drawled, the older man was surprised that he was awake "…I knew you'd come for me."

"I wish I would've gotten to you sooner" John trailed his hand up into his love's golden tresses, brushing his thumb along the back of a feline ear "All the things he did to you…I wanted to save you."

"You did" Ted's eyes fluttered open, revealing his corn-silk blue treasures "I knew you'd get there…but I couldn't stop him."

"You fought, and that's all I could ask" John smiled a little, so glad to have his pet back in his arms "My strong-willed Teddy…I saw the blood and I knew you'd fought him with everything you had. I've never seen anyone as tough as you, kitten."

He breathed in his master's masculine scent, scowling suddenly when he smelled Batista's odor still clinging to his skin.

"I can smell him on me" Ted's voice broke "I'm sorry."

"I'll get you in a bath soon" John promised.

Ted actually managed to smile back, the corners of his lips stinging from the cuts on his face, "He couldn't break me…I didn't let him…"

//Just once// Ted's eyes fell closed again, it hurt too much to keep them open //But Brett's in a better place…and he'd want me to be happy.//

"Where's Cody?" Ted whispered, glad when his master tugged the blanket up a bit over his bare chest.

In the front seat, Randy fidgeted.

"You'll see him soon" John promised, feeling horrible for his best friend "You'll see everyone soon. We've got a few hours ahead of us."

Ted nodded, understanding.

His stomach growled rather loudly, making Miz stifle a snicker.

"…Master?"

"Yeah, kitten?"

"I'm sorry" Ted opened an eye, an apologetic smile on his face "But I'm starving."

"I'll get you something soon" John swore, stroking his fingers through his hair again to calm his own nerves.

Ted snuggled further into his master's lap, indulging in his touch. He had been forgetting how good he had it with John, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity go. He wanted a bath and some food, but he was too exhausted to fulfill either desire.

For now, being petted and loved by his master was enough.

xXxXxXx

A half hour later, when the sun was setting on small town in Georgia, John Cena was found himself in a small gas station just a dozen miles from the desired cemetery. He had a few water bottles, Pepsi, and some granola bars. He couldn't start the boys off on something too harsh, he needed to give them healthy energy, not sugar or caffeine.

But Mark insisted to get a Pepsi, just in case.

The clerk looked over the selection, then rang them up one by one, "Taking a trip?"

"You could say that" John gave the young man a smile, shelling out the bills for the food. They were bagged, and given to with an equal smile.

"There you go, sir."

"Thanks, kid."

Yes! The boys are back where they belong! Now let's feed those poor babies and kill their attackers!