A/N: I'm so sorry you guys had to wait so long for this chapter. My flash drive died, and between that and time constraints, I haven't been able to get much done to recover anything. I apologize. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope this one makes up for the lost time a little, so without further ado, enjoy. :)


Chapter Twenty Seven

He was alone.

For the first time since he had woken up in the hospital, Jamie was completely left to his own devices. Henry had gone out to lunch with a few friends, and wouldn't be back for a while, so Jamie was anxious to entertain himself.

Therapy had worked him hard today, though, so his preferred form of entertainment was sitting on the back steps with a mug of coffee.

Jamie inhaled the warm September air, noticing that it was the perfect end-of-summer type day. Not too hot, not too cold. Sunny with a few clouds. A gorgeous weather day.

One he never thought he'd live to see.

He hadn't lied to Danny when he said he'd wanted to die in there. Part of him had hoped that he wouldn't make it out alive. But he had. He wasn't sure how, but he had, and he was thankful for that.

He wasn't sure he'd ever know how…


The darkness remained around him, covering him in a shroud of black as he remained chained to the floor. They kept the room dark so he wouldn't know how long he'd been there. They had mentioned earlier that it was days, but he knew it couldn't have been more than a few hours.

Could it?

The silence was broken with soft footsteps, and he closed his eyes. He figured before the person sat down that it had to be Honor, given how quiet the person came into the room. Despite knowing who was there, he remained still, not wanting to get hurt worse.

"Are you awake?" she asked softly.

A trick question, of course. If he answered no, she'd know he was lying, and that could lead to more pain. Answering yes could lead to more pain as well. So Jamie said and did nothing, the best option he had.

He heard her move closer, but still he didn't react. As soon as she got beside him, she sat down, putting the flashlight on its end to illuminate more of the room.

He did nothing.

"Jamie," she said softly, putting her hand on his arm.

He forced himself not to react.

"Jamie, I figure you're awake and just don't want to talk to me. I understand. I just… I want to say I'm sorry."

He said nothing.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she continued softly.

"Sure, you didn't," Jamie muttered sarcastically, cracking open one eyelid.

"I didn't," she said, frowning as she ran her hand along the bruises starting to form. The ones left by her hands. "I'm really sorry."

"Stop apologizing, Honor."

She sighed. "You don't believe me."

"Give me one good reason why I should. After all, you are holding me captive."

"Nate and Liam are holding you hostage."

"And what, you're just hanging out for fun?"

She flinched. "I have no choice. You have to believe me, Jamie. I have no choice."

"I don't see Freddy here," he countered. "So, explain to me how you have no choice."

"Freddy's not me," she whispered.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She looked him in the eye. "You have a sister. You should understand."

"I don't."

"You treat her differently than you treat Danny, right? Differently than you treated Joe? Let her get away with things when you were younger because she was the girl? Tried to protect her, even though she's much older than you, because she was the only sister you had?"

Jamie didn't respond.

"To Liam and Nate, I'm the weakling," she continued. "I'm supposed to do what they say because they tell me to, because I'm the only sister, they're the brothers, and what they say goes." She scoffed lightly. "Each family has its own value system, huh?"

Jamie shook his head, but said nothing.


Jamie took a drink from the mug in his hand, feeling the trembling below the skin splashing the lukewarm liquid around the ceramic. He tried to take a deep breath to steady himself, but found it to not work at all. The shaking continued. The fear continued. And all the while, his mind continued to race back to that room.


Another strike to the cheek proved even more painful than the previous one. Jamie readjusted his position as Liam yanked his head back violently.

"You trying to give me whiplash or something?" Jamie asked. "Is that the best you can do?"

Liam punched Jamie hard across the face again, causing Jamie to spit blood. "Just give it up, Jameson," Liam replied. "You'll live longer."

"I'm not going to tell you anything."

"Your family doesn't care about you."

Jamie scoffed. "You'll live longer if you stop thinking that."

Liam hit him harder. "Your family doesn't care. They cared more about Joe than you. You're expendable to them. They're not even looking for you. If they were, you'd have been found already. It's been three weeks. You're not going home."

Jamie spat more blood. "Then kill me already."

Liam responded by slamming Jamie against the floor and stomping on Jamie's ribs.


Jamie barely noticed that the wind had picked up a little, let alone that the mug in his hand had shattered on the steps, sending coffee cascading down them. His entire body trembled, and he tried to pull his legs in closer to him, but to no avail, as his leg refused to bend. He buried his head toward his chest, lost in the painful memories of the past.


"You're worthless," Nate said.

Jamie opted not to respond this time.

"Give me one good reason why I don't just kill you now?"

"Because you're a manipulative, controlling bastard, and killing me would put an end to your control over me," Jamie replied.

A reply that earned him a slash with the knife.

Nate shook his head. "You'll never learn, will you?" he asked bitterly.

"I'm pretty sure I've learned your entire family is a bunch of sick, sadistic assholes."

Another slash.

"I have no problem letting you die, slowly and painfully," Nate said, leaning in toward Jamie. "You have to decide if you're willing to let your family lose another member."

"You all keep telling me they don't care about me," Jamie replied. "Why should I care?"

Nate scoffed. "Maybe you are learning, Jamie."


"Jamie."

Jamie was so bound up in memories that he never heard Henry come up behind him. The older man sat down next to Jamie as the younger man continued shuddering, not even recognizing that anyone was there.

"Jamie," Henry said.

Jamie continued shaking, not hearing him.

Henry put his hand on Jamie's arm gently, drawing his attention slightly. "Jamie," Henry said one more time.

Jamie shook his head, clearing out the memories. Slowly he began to register his father's backyard, the back steps, the shattered remnants of the coffee mug. "I'm sorry," Jamie whispered.

"It's okay," Henry said. "You're safe now."

Jamie shook his head again. "No, it's not okay. I'm sorry. I broke the mug. I'm sorry."

"Jamie, look at me."

Jamie slowly turned to face his grandfather.

"It's okay," Henry said. "It's all going to be okay. We'll pick up the pieces and it'll all be okay."

Jamie swallowed before nodding, knowing Henry was talking about more than just the mug.

"Come on, kid. Let's go inside."

Jamie nodded wordlessly, allowing Henry to guide him up off the steps and inside the house.

"It's all going to be okay," Henry reassured again.

Though Jamie wasn't so sure.