Summary:
Keith would do anything to find Pidge.
Author's Note:
Happy Christmas and a belated New Year!
Chapter 15: Find You.
Keith didn't expect Pidge to run out of the apartment like the building was on fire. And when he ran out after her, she was gone. Cursing under his breath, Keith picked up his phone and was about to dial her phone when he realized she had left her behind. Trying his best to restrain his frustration, he ran a hand through his hair. Stowing his wallet and keys into his pocket, he texted Pidge's phone with a message and took the spare from his bedroom. Leaving her phone and the apartment key in a spot by the door that would allow Pidge easy access to find them should she come back, Keith left.
A few hours later, with still no word from Pidge, he returned to the apartment after relentlessly searching for wherever she might've gone. Sweat covered his skin, and his heaving chest struggled to keep up. Summer, at the very least, meant that if Pidge was out there somewhere, she wasn't going to freeze. In a way, he was relieved. But, that meant less protection.
Climbing the stairs, he stopped when he realized that his floor mat was shoved much farther than it should be from his door. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. Kneeling, he saw scuff marks that weren't there before and could see the trace marks of a fight that had happened. But when he finished tracing the fight, his blood turned cold.
Worse than when Pidge had told him that she was pregnant in the middle of their argument.
The next few hours after that went by in a blur. Keith called Shiro to tell him that Pidge was taken, but with no proper evidence and without the formality of her being missing for over twenty-four hours before the police could move, there was nothing they could do. Allura started using her means of trying to find Pidge and Lance were having his family help out by looking for where they could've taken her. Hunk was trying to find ways of looking for her via the web and having her picture spread to help search.
Again, Keith felt powerless.
He recalled the digging he went through when he got to Allura's apartment, looking at the profiles she had dug up on Rick and his friends. Keith skimmed through and tried to find anything that might be a clue.
"You're not going to find anything in there," Allura called out from where she sat on the couch in the living room.
"Leave him," Shiro said with the slight shake of his head. "Maybe he'll find something."
But he grew frustrated, finding none of the information on it was enough of a lead for him to find Pidge and threw the papers back onto the dining room table. He stormed off to the front of the apartment.
"I'm going for a walk."
"Right now?" Allura jolted from her seat and tried to hide the alarm from showing on her face.
"But, Keith, you can't go out this late." Hunk moved from the kitchen, where he was worry-cooking, and frowned. "What if something happened to you?"
Keith groaned and ran a hand down his face.
"I can't sit still—knowing that she's out there—somewhere—and I'm doing nothing!"
Shiro stood up from where he sat on the couch and lifted his hand toward Keith. "You're doing something that's not only a risk to you," he reasoned. "We don't know how much of a danger Pidge is in, and until we have an idea, then we can—"
"And then it'll be too late!"
No, he couldn't deal with waiting around. Waiting for some miracle wasn't going to happen because he wished for it.
In a huff, he grabbed his helmet and headed down the stairs to his motorcycle. When he clicked the helmet into place, Shiro was running down the stairs. When he kicked off and rode was when he left Shiro standing on the sidewalk with his hands in a fist.
Sorry, Shiro, he thought, but he needed to do this.
After a few minutes of focusing on the ride and the tires gripping the road, he came to a red light just a few streets over from the university. With a sense of calm, he recollected the information he skimmed over only ten, no wait, thirty minutes ago. Some of the information listed was frequent hangouts and possible motives that fell short of applying to the situation involving Pidge. None of them had any genuine reason that would give them the motivation to take Pidge.
Quelling the panic at the idea of how much danger Pidge was in, he decided to focus on saving her instead. But that would mean he needed everyone else for this and he couldn't do this by himself. Turning around, he headed back to the apartment he had left his friends behind in.
— x —
Pidge woke up with a throbbing head and her arms, not listening to her as well as she thought they would be. Blinking blearily through the darkness of the room she's in; she's relieved to find it dry and warmer than she had expected. But then again, she wasn't sure what she expected.
The warm air was enough to have her perspiring, a clue that there was no air conditioning in the room. It smelled clean like someone had wiped down each of the surfaces in the place recently. It was dimly lit from a single lantern in the far left corner, her eyes squinting to see through the darkness.
With something digging into her wrists, she concluded that her wrists were tied. She tried moving her legs instead and found that they were bound as well so that she could not escape whatever this rinky-dink place was. Pidge was gagged, so talking or even screaming was out of the question.
The room itself was bare and barely bigger than the size of a bedroom. It was scarcely decorated with a chair; a table pushed against the wall and a three-tiered bookshelf next to the lantern. Pidge concluded that she was in a shed on a property somewhere since this room had minimal decoration, and there was one window to her right. At least, through that, she could tell that it was night.
Pidge tensed.
Nighttime?
How long had it been night?
When she was last with Keith, it had waned into the late afternoon and early evening. That argument when she fled was already pushing the sun behind the horizon that she knew it was late. With how freshly bruised her wrists were, she couldn't have been here for too long. A few hours, at the most, and that meant the police wouldn't be looking for her until this time tomorrow.
And by then, it might be too late.
Struggling to sit up was an effort in an already warm room, the heat making her dizzy from exertion from the recent scuffle with the kidnapper, and now that Pidge was sitting, she had a slightly better perspective in the room. (She was pretty sure she had a concussion.) She pouted when she noted that it wasn't different from what she already guessed. Leaning against the wall she was placed against, she sighed, trying to figure out a way out. By the looks of it, this was a room set up like an interrogation room. There was another chair in the corner that she didn't see on her first look around the room.
Unfortunately, she sighed when she saw nothing that she could use to free herself. Looking down at her tied ankles, thankfully covered by her jeans, Pidge noted that she was bound together by zip ties. It would be easy enough to escape from if she could see something sharp enough to cut herself free.
But she didn't.
The kidnapper was thorough. There was only wood and metal that was too sturdy even to attempt breaking and left not a trace of anything having once been here. They were meticulous in their cleaning that she wrinkled her nose.
Sitting alone in the silence was mind-numbing, she thought after maybe five minutes of quiet. Pidge had already looked over every inch of the little hobble of a place to see if there was anything she could snap the zip ties off but to no avail. With an aggravated sigh, she began to contemplate why she seemed not as scared of the situation as a person should be.
Pidge clenched her jaw.
No, she knew why.
She had to get out of here for her parents, her friends, Keith.
And then she heaved an exhale.
For the baby.
For now, the best thing she could do was wait. Maybe even find out who kidnapped her and what their motive was. Without any of those, Pidge wouldn't be able to tell the police anything when she went to them. As much as she hated waiting, there was no other choice.
Thankfully, she didn't have to wait for very long. But dread crept into her courage when she spotted the flashing lights outside of the shed. Clenching her jaw, she braced herself.
The door opened as casually as someone would upon entering their bedroom.
— x —
Keith ran a hand down his face. Crossing his arms as Allura and Shiro stood in the center of the room, while Lance, Hunk, and Matt looked down at the documents as they sat on the couch. Coran stood at a whiteboard that he didn't know Allura even had. There were notes scribbled all over it, complete with pictures, magnets, and notes from the documents about the entire case.
"Look," he called to their attention and stood, "Allura already did a good job of analyzing the results of the investigation that she asked the private detective to do."
Allura nodded, despite looking a little disappointed that she couldn't find more clues.
Keith pointed to the board. "And we all looked over the papers and pointed out stuff that we all agreed was iffy." Coran took a step to the side and held a hand to his chin in thought. "Each of these points we already looked over as to the what and why, but the motive remains unclear—we still don't know why any one of them would want to do this to Pidge." Keith tried his best not to wince. "But we all agreed that each of those reasons was a little petty and grade school and didn't fall into a category that would have her kidnapped. Now, what is it that we're missing?"
Keith looked out to the room. Each of them looked deep in thought, trying to filter through the assortment of information that Allura briefed them on an hour ago. However, Coran lifted his gaze to the board.
"Is it possible that we're missing another suspect?" he asked.
Allura frowned. "Perhaps, but not likely. The detective I had hired was thorough in his investigation into those boys. At least, I hope he was."
Shiro looked pensive. "No, it's possible." His dark gaze looked over their little suspect pool. "We've already looked over and established that none of these people were it, and yet, we keep trying to think it is them."
"And we even ruled out Rick early on," Hunk pointed out. "And you were the ones that said he had a temper problem."
"Yeah," Matt said with a nod, looking over the papers again, "and it's shown here that he's going to anger management classes."
"So I ask, Allura, are you sure the detective investigated everyone?" Keith asked.
Allura held her chin in thought, her eyes cast to the floor. "It's possible that he might not have looked into everyone that was connected to Rick. No, now that I think of it, he did say that there was one individual that he could not investigate."
"And? What'd he say?" Lance stood, placing his hands on his hips.
Allura turned to face him. "There was a friend that Rick used to hang out with frequently, but something had changed before Rick even talking to Pidge. It was even before this group of friends, and they no longer had ties to one another." She gestured to the board. "Rick was in recent contact with everyone on here, and this person the detective mentioned had fallen off the radar,' so to speak before him ever meeting Pidge."
"Wait, did the detective describe what he looked like?" Keith had a sinking feeling he's met this person before.
Allura moved to the table where an assortment of the documented files rested. She lifted them and quickly rifled through them until she landed on the guy that Keith had a confrontation within the cafeteria. "Kyle is what the detective pegged as the 'leader' of their little group."
"Yeah, we've met," Keith remarked bitterly. "But… what—"
But Allura continued as though Keith hadn't said anything. "Joe, Thomas, Carter, and Larry were all previously friends with Rick." She pointed to each little profile that they have written up on the board with the appropriately attached taken picture. "According to this, Rick was seen talking to them a few days before your confrontation." She pointedly glanced in Keith's direction, but he ignored it with the crossing of his arms and an impassive expression.
Lance stood up and plucked the document she was holding. If Keith didn't know any better, Lance must have connected the dots differently than he did. With his hand on his chin in a fashion similar to Allura, his eyes skimmed the paper and spoke aloud as he reads, "'The Person of Interest was seen meeting with his group of old friends on this day for a few hours. From the sounds of the conversation, they were confrontational with the subject taking anger management classes in an effort of self-improvement.' So basically, Rick was getting ignored by his so-called friends. Wait, where did I see—"
"Is it possible that because of Rick's interest in Pidge is what changed his group of friends?" Coran mused.
Everyone turned to Coran in stunned silence.
"Coran, you're a genius!" Allura exclaimed.
Lance quickly rifled through the papers in his hand until he came upon a brief passage that Keith moved to read over his shoulder.
"'The PoI had cut ties with a friend long before his acquaintance meeting with the subject. When is unknown.' Who's this friend?"
Keith took the paper from Lance and continued reading.
"It says that the friend doesn't have a name since all trace of him seems to have vanished." That wasn't possible. Keith frowned. According to the documents, the friend was once a male with bleached blond hair and dark skin…
Their trip to the beach flashed to his mind.
"Keith, that guy felt familiar—like I know him from somewhere," she admitted when he returned to her side.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and gave another glance in the guy's direction. There was a look in his eye, but he took her hand and tugged her to continue walking down the beach.
"Well, if he's an unfortunate reminder, I'll be sure to beat him into, what do you say, 'into next week'?"
She snickered. "Okay, well, I can't say I remember enough to say that he deserves one of those quite yet, but please do. Though, if he is one, I'll gladly beat his ass first."
And then back on campus, he was hanging in the back with Kyle and his little group of friends. The only reason he remembered at all was because of the strange smile on his face.
Dropping the papers, Keith shoved his feet into his shoes, darted to the door, wrenched it open, and bolted down the stairs to his motorcycle.
He could hear his friends' voices shouting after him. It rang like the chiming of a wind chime that he couldn't entirely ignore, but he did. His driving was sharp and aggressive, taking turns and corners like a professional racer until he got to his apartment.
When he ascended the stairs to get to his apartment, he found it kicked open with pieces of the doorknob hanging off and on the floor. Cautiously stepping inside, he braced himself.
The room itself was dark, but he didn't bother turning the lights on. Partially so he wouldn't alarm his neighbor and partly so that someone wouldn't have to see the fight that was about to happen. After all, he was in their home turf now, and he wanted nothing more than to throttle this guy for not only invading his home but taking his only chance at a family he had.
Keith contemplated reaching for the knife sitting in his boot but decided against it.
The moment he did, an arm shot out, and Keith barely dodged the lunging body by deflecting the blow with his arm. Ducking underneath, he went in and punched the attacker's chest. They stumbled back a few steps before dropping and hitting with his other arm.
Keith prepped to drop to leg sweep, but slipped on something soft and lost his footing. The attacker took advantage and rammed into him so that he slammed against the wall. All the air in his chest was blown out of him. The attacker grabbed Keith's torso and continued to ram him against the wall and then finally dropped him on his back.
They wrestled the moment Keith was grappled, and after several minutes of that, he knew he was losing. He was bigger than he was. The attacker wrapped his arm around his neck, trying to choke him out. Using his elbows and whatever means necessary, Keith tried to fight his way out of the choke-hold. But, it was only when his vision began to fade that he hoped his friends would find him and, hopefully, lead him to Pidge.
— x —
Pidge was recovering from the earlier encounter with the dude who kidnapped her.
Sweat pooled on her back and down her face, not just from exertion in an attempt to fight her way out, but from the bruises, she knew was forming. Her body ached from where he kicked her earlier, his fury almost burned into her mind. She's not stupid enough to consider that she was the "target" in this case since it seemed like his frustrations had to be with someone else altogether.
Fighting against the rapid beating of her heart, she took a few calming and deep breaths to focus on the situation at hand. Pidge already tried to break free from these stupid plastic restraints that were cutting into her skin like a knife. They might be plastic, but they were small enough that it was starting to cut in a way that smarted. Like she initially guessed, there was nothing in the room that would help her escape from her bindings and nothing to help her guess as to where the heck she was.
So now she was covered in sweat from the exertion, wrists rubbed raw, and her ankles were throbbing from struggling to maneuver herself out of the bindings. But there was a flash of light, recognizable as a car's headlights. Trying to adjust herself so that she would be laying down like how she awoke, she pretended to be still asleep.
The door slammed open, and a body dropped down next to her. With a snarl, the kidnapper snapped, "I'll be back and deal with you later." And then promptly left.
Pidge opened her eyes and peeked over at the body next to her and, for a moment, lost her breath.
"Keith!"
He groaned from where he was resting on his side, but she shuffled over. Well, as best as she could in her restraints. Nudging him gently with her foot, he groaned again and blearily opened his eyes.
"Fuck, where am I?"
"In some shed on some deserted farm, probably." Pidge tried to sound sarcastic, but couldn't help the small smile of relief at seeing Keith immediately shifting to get a better look at her on his side.
"Pidge!"
"The one and only!"
Keith paused, squinting. "For a person who's bound and kidnapped, you still seem to be pretty chipper about all of this."
Pidge grimaced, not because he was right, but because she was trying to keep a light heart about all of this. "It's how I cope."
Keith made a wry smile, and like her, tried pushing himself to sit next to her. After a minute or two of struggling, he was finally up with a heavy sigh. There was some sweat perspiring, the heat getting to him in all his exertion.
"God, it's summer alright," Keith muttered. Pidge snickered, but the amusement quickly died. He turned his face back to her. He did a quick perusal of her person and swore under his breath. Bruises were forming on her arms, and her shirt looked beyond rumpled from what he remembered before.
"Keith," Pidge warned, her voice sharp, and her gaze narrowed.
"What did he do to you?"
"We're not going to talk about it."
"Pidge."
"Keith."
He swore again and dropped his head against the wall of the shed in a frustrated sigh before lifting it again. "I swear, when I get my hands on him, he's going to—"
"I almost rather he did that than kick me," she muttered.
"Wait, he kicked—"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"Just over my ribs," Pidge sighed. She sounded resigned, as though she didn't want to tell him—begrudged. Her eyes had become dark, her lips set in a hard line. "I made sure to have him kick me there so he wouldn't hurt them."
Keith couldn't swallow past the anger that burned in his chest. Its heat spread, and he was trying to push past the red that clouded his vision. It took a moment longer than he expected before the red died, and he noticed Pidge's frown, eyes wide with concern. There wasn't much they could do now, but that didn't stop the anger that burned in his chest.
"Keith," Pidge called, nudging him with her knee. "Please." Breaking out of the zip ties seemed challenging to do, but it didn't seem like Keith was going to give up any time soon. Pidge watched him look over the room, much like she did after he had taken a deep breath.
He took another deep breath and heaved a sigh. Returning his gaze to Pidge, he asked, "How long do you think you've been here?"
"I'd guesstimate about six hours, eight at most since—" she lifted her arms weakly, "—these aren't on long enough to really hurt quite yet. And I was knocked out for a good chunk of it, I'm sure so that it might've been longer."
Keith pressed his lips into a hard line, leaving her to assume she guessed correctly.
She tried her best not to wince at the words that came from her mouth next. "And the police won't be looking for me until twenty-four hours had passed, right?"
He nodded again and looked down, wincing when he smiled, but there was no humor behind it. "They'll come looking now, though, because we're both missing."
The thought was chilling. How long had Pidge been gone?
"When I went back to my apartment, I think whoever it was had been waiting for me." Keith was talking, but Pidge could see his focus was on the door. He was maybe trying to figure out a way out of this that involved both of them making it out okay. He needed something to distract him from what felt like a horrible situation.
"You know, when you ran out, I was going to tell you when everything was in order."
Pidge stiffened, blinking. Keith slowly turned to face her. But then, frowned again. "Wait, what? What was going to be in order?"
Keith honestly hadn't planned on talking about her here, in a situation like this, but if he was going to have to, it might as well be now. After all, there wasn't much he could do now aside from talking and waiting. Plus, he needed to cool down, or he'd pass out from exertion. Doing too much made him lightheaded. It was not the ideal thing to feel when he wanted to make plans to escape.
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't remember how angry you were for picking up the phone? That seeing the message made you storm out? Seeing someone text me that they're going to see me in two days?"
"Oh," Keith noted that her moods were as spaztastic as the days when she was high-strung and stressed out for final projects. He pieced it together then and wondered why he didn't see it before. Already, her pregnancy was making her have adverse reactions because her hormones were out of whack. Somehow, that explained a few things and suddenly didn't have the heart to blame her for her irrational thought patterns. At this, he blamed the hormones.
There was a moment of silence that passed between them before she spoke up again.
"Are you ready to tell me? You don't have to, Keith—I don't know what came over when I saw that text," she said quietly. "I trust you. You can tell me all about it when we get out of here."
Keith smiled. "Hey." He waited until she lifted her gaze from her lap to face him. "It's the hormones messing with you—I get it. It'll have to be something to get used to, though, and I do want to tell you."
Pidge snorted with a roll of her eyes. "Sorry, I'm hormonal."
"Hey, hey," he said, shaking his head. "It comes with the territory." He tried to say it in a way that was reassuring, calming her. He watched as her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes weren't so full of the fire that was always determined to one-up him.
"Yeah, you're right—I-I can't tell. I feel it happen. Ugh, I hate it. It makes me feel—" she paused, trying to think of the right word for it, "—stupid." But then, she couldn't help the smile that came. "But then, I always calm down. So, it's not too bad, I hope."
Keith had to fight a laugh down, shaking his head. "Nope, not bad at all."
Pidge didn't look so amused, lifting a single brow in skepticism since his words sounded sarcastic.
"Alright, alright, all things serious, but I was going to tell you after it happened. I need to talk about something, or I'm going to go insane with how mad I am."
Pidge seemed to consider this. "Okay."
"So, I-I needed to see her first before I brought you."
Pidge frowned. "You were going to bring me to meet her?" She sounded incredulous. But when she didn't ask any other questions, Keith continued.
"Yep, I figured I might as well introduce my future wife to my mom."
Silence. Absolute silence. Keith grew uneasy when Pidge didn't move after what seemed to be a long time.
"Pidge?"
"I-I-What? Mom?"
"—Yeah?"
"B-But, I thought—"
"Yeah, she passed away."
"Then, who—how?" Her bewilderment had no end.
Keith turned to face the door, reminding himself of their place. Reminding him that this was something he still wanted to do—introducing Pidge to his mom would be something he knew she'd approve. Hell, he knew his dad would be proud of him. He owned up for his mistakes, owning up to the fact that he was going to be a father.
But, he was amused that she was prioritizing the fact that he was introducing her to his deceased mother instead of the words he used that he had been sure she would've latched.
She didn't.
He'll have to think about that later, but for now, he needed to continue the story.
"I'm an orphan—I told you that before, right? And I was adopted by Shiro's family?"
Pidge nodded slowly, her brows knitted together as she tried to piece together what she knew of him. It was funny to see that he could see the gears working in her head. It was cute.
"Well, my mother left my dad a little after I was born. I was four or five, my dad told me, but he said that my mom loved me very much.
"I don't remember her, I don't know much about her, but what I did know was that my dad was unquestionably in love with her, even after she left. I asked him why didn't he feel sad that he couldn't see her, why we couldn't just go and see her. I wanted to ask him why did she leave us at all if she loved us so much."
"Oh, Keith…"
Keith shook his head, observing Pidge's softened expression. He could see her remembering their earlier conversation.
"My dad just said that she was out there saving the world and that she couldn't just risk us in doing that. I didn't understand until after I lost my dad, that saving people, saving the world, was a gift that we can give to others so that they might live to see another sunrise, to breathe, to laugh."
He paused, taking a breath. "I knew nothing about Mom except for the stories my dad told me. She was a warrior, a secret agent, and a powerful fighter with a mean hook if someone tried to mess with her. The last thing I could dig up about her was that she was an undercover agent for the government, and she had gone deep. When I asked some of my old friends for help in finding her, since I did know her name, they found out that she had passed away."
"I'm sorry."
Keith lifted his gaze. "It's okay—I kinda figured. My dad had always guessed that something must've happened to her because he said that once in a while, he'd get letters. But, they stopped just before he died.
"I asked if they could find more information, but we got into trouble. Shiro had to bail us out, and he didn't approve of our methods, and he didn't approve of how I went about finding out about her. It was only when I promised I wouldn't do it again that he helped me."
Keith clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He took a slow and steadying breath and reopened his eyes. However, he stared at his lap. "But, after a while, when I entered Altea Uni, I finally managed to find her. Shiro helped me get in contact with the person who handled my case when I entered the foster care system."
Pidge frowned, puzzled.
He seemed thoughtful, contemplative. "To this day, I still don't blame her—she left because she was just as dutiful as my dad; she left to protect both of us. I would've done the same if I was in her position."
"And that's—"
"It was only then that I found out that she was an agent for the FBI and one of the people she had locked up had escaped from prison. He came after my dad and me. To protect us, she left, and we went into the witness protection program until they caught him. But, by the time he was found, she was gone."
His voice became quiet.
"Found? Keith, did he-did he die? What about your mom?" Pidge whispered after a long moment.
"He did," he replied bitterly, and his gaze narrowed. "He died because he couldn't catch or find my mom for a good year and drove himself insane that he hung himself."
The bitterness faded, and he closed his eyes again. "They didn't know where she was, and they couldn't find her."
"Oh, Keith…" Pidge didn't know what else to say.
"Don't worry about it—I'm not mad or anything," he said with a small shake of his head. He opened his eyes, lidded when he continued to stare at his lap. "I accepted a long time ago that she was probably off fighting in a war that I probably didn't know about—still doing her job and trying to protect me, even if it wasn't with me being there. To find out I was right made it bearable."
Keith lifted his gaze from his lap, turning his head to her with the slightest curls of his lips. "But, I planned on introducing you to her—to Mom. I think she would've liked you."
Pidge blinked. She didn't adequately meet Keith, and somehow, she wished she met him sooner.
He turned away, looking to the ceiling above them. "It's been sixteen years since she's left, but I can finally talk to her again."
There was a long pause that followed. Pidge pulled her gaze away from Keith's pensive expression and somehow understood through his vague remarks about his mother. She tried to blink back tears. Keith had such a hard life, and yet, he came out of it so much stronger than she had thought.
"It'd-It'd be an honor to meet her," she whispered in between the shaking of her shoulders and the tears that wouldn't fall, burning her eyes.
"Yeah—she would've loved you."
"And that's who you were talking to? The person who could let you meet her?"
Keith nodded. "They found her remains and had her honorably buried at a cemetery that honored her and how she went beyond and above the line of duty. They found me a little late after that since Dad did a great job of keeping us hidden."
"After this," Pidge began with determination in her eyes, "I promise we'll get to go home and meet her. I'll introduce myself and introduce the baby."
He smiled one of those boyish smiles she had so rarely seen and damn... it stole her breath away.
"I'd like that."
She grinned before the smile quickly faded. Now, they had even more reason to get out of this. If not for herself, if not for Keith, but the baby. For the baby. It was a future that neither of them had expected, but they were prepared to be there and greet it with hope and a fierce determination to live.
"So, I remember that Shiro taught me a technique on how to get out of these, but I'm not sure how well it's going to work." Keith glanced around.
Pidge blinked at him. "And you waited until now to tell me? What the hell, Keith?"
"Sorry, but I don't have as much strength as I had initially thought. I think the kidnapper drugged me, so I was waiting for it to wear off. Even now, I don't think it's worn off completely, but it'll have to do."
Pidge swore.
"Ready to blow this pop stand?" He smirked.
"Hell, yes."
Keith did something stupidly near-magical and moved his cuffed hands from behind his back to his front by managing to get it under his legs. By the end, he was sweating, dark eyes gleaming in determination to break out of his restraints. Gritting his teeth, he shifted his wrists to press his palms together and slammed it down on his abdomen.
Pidge winced.
It took a couple of tries, but the familiar sound of something snapping was the best thing she'd heard all day. Immediately, he set about working on freeing his legs by doing the same thing on the ground. Again, the sharp snap that came was such a relief to hear that Keith stood up and looked around the room for anything to help her break free.
"Damn, what kind of stupid shed is this if there are no tools in here?"
"I think he was planning this for a long time," Pidge said quietly, remembering the smell of something chemically clean when she first awoke in this room.
Keith merely shook his head, deciding not to comment and waste his energy. "Dammit, there's nothing in here, and-and I'd hate to leave you alone while I go find something to break you free."
"You can't carry me?" she asked sardonically.
"As much as I'd love to carry you out of here or wherever the fuck we are, I can't help with the drugs still in my system—I won't last." He stilled for a moment, shaking his head when a wave of lightheadedness overcame him.
He had a point.
"Go, Keith, but come back quick. I don't know what's out there, but find something—anything. I don't know when he's coming back."
Keith aggressively sighed, reluctant to leave her alone, spared her one look, and left.
The first thing he noticed was that it smelled like rain. Now that he stood outside, he noticed that there was nothing for miles around him. Trees, sure, but there were no clues as to where he was. Suddenly, that GPS tracker that Shiro wanted him to wear that was hidden in a jewelry piece didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he walked around the perimeter of the shed and found nothing. He swore again, wondering just how meticulous this guy was to go through such lengths. A little further down, barely hidden by a patch of trees that nearly hid it from view, was a small cottage. The lights weren't on, but it was his best bet of finding something to help free Pidge.
With that in mind, he took off in a run.
— x —
The moment Keith left, Pidge wheezed. Her bruises were feeling a little raw, and she was feeling a little dizzier than she'd like. She forced her eyes shut, trying to take slow breaths until nausea passed. Right, the drugs. They were affecting her too, and she didn't know what kind they were.
Just wait until she got her hands on this kidnapper.
Closing her eyes, she recollected the shitty encounter she had with him.
"Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in," he had mocked.
Her eyes narrowed when he pulled up a chair, propped it up in front of her and sneered. Pidge glowered. "You piece of shit—whose fault do you think dragged me here?"
He laughed. She judged that based on his voice, height, and build, that he was a male. But there was something familiar about it.
"It's your fault, you know."
"Fault for what? I don't even know you."
"You might've not known who I am, but I know you. I know you very well."
Her skin crawled in disgust. Both her horror and terror pooled in her stomach. He was stalking her!
"I had a good life until you ruined it!" he suddenly shouted, standing up so quickly that the chair fell back with a loud clatter.
"Like I said," she snarled, "I don't even know who you are."
He yanked his hoodie off, revealing the bleached blond hair, dark skin and dark eyes, so dark that she felt like it would've her swallowed her and then spat her out in revulsion. But, her eyes widened.
"You were at the beach."
"Remember me yet?"
"No, not just there…"
She hated how her memory decided to be good and be able to remember each time he was in her peripheral. But, the only reason she had noticed him at all was that that beach ball he was playing with had soared by her and they talked.
No, no, that wasn't it. There's something else—something else that she was missing.
"You think you're so good?" He took a menacing step forward that Pidge flinched, shifting so that she could move away from his approach. "Think you're such a goodie two shoes that you had to break his heart? Yell at him and not even give him a chance?"
"Good—what—?" she stopped. Give him a chance?
"You had to come along, make him all dopey and stupid and then he changed after you broke up."
No.
"He stopped talking to me, stopped talking to our friends, and stopped talking to anyone except his little 'support' group." He mocked the word support by doing air quotes. So much bitterness, so much anger, and she couldn't understand.
What did Rick have to do with this?
"Who are you?" she whispered.
"I'm Rick's best friend, you bitch," he spat.
This made no sense. Her mind spun with questions and no answers. What on earth?
"It's okay—it doesn't matter. In the end, you're all the same."
"But I've done nothing to you—why are you so angry at me ?" Pidge finally found her voice. It was out of incredulity, genuine befuddlement as to how and why this even happened to her in the first place.
"You changed him! He's shoved me aside! He's not my friend anymore! All because of you!"
His words escalated in volume, anger pouring from his words and his every step as he came closer with each shriek. Trying to escape from him in some way, her back met the wall of the shed. Pidge braced herself—whatever was coming next, it wasn't going to be good.
"Because of you, he's cast me aside!"
He wasn't right in the head. Whatever happened might've made it worse, but there was no reasoning with him. And yet, she dared to speak out. "That was his decision to do that! Not mine!"
His hand came too fast for her to see it coming. Her head rang, loud, and a blinding light flashed in her eyes that she was thrown. Dizzy and disoriented, she groaned from where she was lying on the ground.
He was shouting something through the ringing, but she barely had time to react when his leg lifted and channeled his anger into the kick. Pidge braced herself for every hit, protecting her abdomen, her belly, from the onslaught. He finally stopped, panting, and reeling from his outburst.
He said a few more words and just as quickly as he had come, he was gone.
Reopening her eyes, she leaned back on the shed wall with a heavy sigh. Wincing through the pain, Pidge lifted her gaze to the outside. There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance.
"Hurry up, Keith," she whispered like a prayer.
Another few minutes pass before the door swung open and Keith stood there with a knife in his hand. "Got something."
"About time!"
He snorted, giving her a pointed look. "Hey, look, I had to run to this old cottage down the way and it was a lot farther than I expected. I'm not sure if I'm thankful or not, but no one was home." He knelt beside her and just when the knife was about to free her, headlights from a car lit up through the windows.
Keith quickly hid the knife behind his back and positioned himself back to how he was laying down. Tucking in his feet and keeping his arm hidden from view with the knife, he adjusted accordingly. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "Time to find out what he wants."
Pidge could only nod, gritting her teeth to prevent herself from screaming. They should've planned better. Heck, they should've planned this encounter instead of figuring out a way to get out of here. Well, too late now, she supposed and fighting down the sickening horror of seeing them again.
But, unlike last time where she had no one to help ward off his kicks, this time, she had Keith.
The horror quickly dwindled, however, when minutes began to pass and he had yet to come inside.
"What's taking him so long to come inside?" Keith mumbled.
"I-I don't know. Last time, he just came inside and, well…"
Keith's gaze narrowed. "Wait, he's coming."
There was the sound of jingling keys before the door swung open and he came inside, a body slung over his shoulder and dropped them next to Keith with a heavy thud. Both Keith and Pidge tried not to wince at the sound of what could be dead weight. But, when they looked at the other kidnapped person, they found with dread that it was Rick.
"What the fuck?" Keith wheezed, unable to believe his eyes. He whipped his head around as much as he was able in his current position. "What the hell do you want? Who the hell are you?"
The grin he made sent a chill right through them.
"You, I had no choice," he nonchalantly answered. "Let's just say, at the wrong place and at the wrong time."
Keith grit his teeth.
"That girl over there? Little Katie Holt? Well, she—"
"You stay away from her," Keith snapped.
The grin broadened. He withdrew a gun from behind him and set it down on the table next to him with a dull clunk. "We'll see about that." There was weight in that gun and both Keith and Pidge knew it was loaded.
Keith refrained from moving, but he gripped the knife until his knuckles turned white.
"If you're Rick's so-called best friend, why the hell is he here?" Pidge retorted.
He whirled on them, spinning so fast that Keith's gaze further narrowed. "Because he betrayed me! You, who had such a perfect life wouldn't ever understand what it means to have someone betray you! He left me! He left me behind because of some scrawny girl like you!"
"What Rick did is his choice." Keith couldn't believe this guy, but there was something about him that left him apprehensive. "Pidge and I had nothing to do with it."
"No, no, no no no no," he began to mutter, starting to pace with his hand on his head. "You don't understand me—stop pretending like you think do!"
Keith shot Pidge a glance and she helplessly shrugged when he continued to pace back and forth in front of the door to the table. Keith could barely make out the handle of the gun that hung over the edge of the table. If he could get that away from him, then maybe…
"You don't understand, you don't understand!" he screeched, pacing frantically.
Just overhead, the trickling sound of rain started to hit the shed that Keith blinked. Crap, if it started to rain, then it would make their escape harder than it needed to be. Trying to navigate through an unknown area without direction was asking for trouble and rain just made it worse. And with Pidge injured, he knew he couldn't risk her getting a cold in the rain, even if it was in the middle of summer.
Just then, Rick groaned, stirring awake that Keith winced when his eyes finally opened.
"Wh-Where am I?" he asked groggily.
"With me, good friend."
Rick stiffened, his head whipping around to face the kidnapper. "What the fuck, Lee?"
It's a name that's not familiar to either Keith or Pidge that they exchanged helpless shrugs.
Now identified as Lee, he pulled up a chair and sat down with the back facing them. His arms resting on it and he held the gun in front of him. "Now, you see," he started, ignoring indications that he heard the collective sharp inhale, "all of you ruined what was perfect. I had a really good life, but all of you just had to get in my way."
"Dude, I don't know what I did wrong, but I swear, I didn't—"
"You pushed me away!" Lee shouted, his voice octaves too high of what it should be.
"And I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, but seriously, just-just put down the gun and we'll talk." Rick's voice was soothing, trying to ease whatever distress that was going through Lee's head.
"No, enough talking. We tried that before and you didn't even bother to listen to me." Lee stood up, shoved the chair to the side.
"Keith…" Pidge couldn't breathe.
Keith gave Pidge a single glance and suddenly, her stomach dropped and ice replaced her blood. No, this wasn't what she wanted. But there was a determined line etched into his features.
Lee pointed the gun at Rick. "Now, you're all going to pay." There was a grin that didn't fit with the setting. His eyes weren't right either, glazed and vacant.
"Now!"
And then everything moved.
Keith dropped the knife next to Rick with a clatter the same time the safety of the gun clicked off. There was a gunshot that fired through the ceiling when Keith tackled him to the ground. With ringing ears, Pidge moved to grab the knife and worked on trying to get Rick free. She got his arms free the moment that Lee kicked Keith off into the side, right into the table.
Suddenly, the control Lee had was gone and became hysterical. Preparing to aim the gun back at Rick, Rick snatched the knife from Pidge and worked the last zip tie off and worked on Pidge. A chair was flung into Lee's field of vision. Keith was immediately on him, tackling him again as he tried to wretch the gun-free from Lee's hand. Another shot was fired, and Pidge hissed.
It barely missed both her and Rick.
Rick swore when a wet warmth started to spread across Pidge's left arm.
When Rick lunged to join in on the fray, he pinned down Lee's arm to grab the gun.
One more gunshot, but Pidge didn't see where it landed.
Rick staggered back and it was as if everything slowed. Her breathing hitched in her throat when the blood-red stain appeared on the suddenly too white t-shirt that Rick wore.
Taking this as a chance, Keith ripped the gun from Lee's hand when his eyes grew wide, watching Rick stagger and fall to his knees. He pulled his hands away from his abdomen, stained with blood, and the look on his face of disbelief when he looked at Lee. Lee shook his head quickly, denial. "No, no, th-this isn't what I wanted—no!" Lee cried.
Keith let him go of the grapple, sensing the fight went out of him at seeing Rick being shot. Whatever plans he had, this wasn't it. Judging from his reaction, this was definitely not it.
"What'd you think was going to happen when you brought a gun?" Rick asked, trying to make light of the situation, but his voice was strained, raspy.
"Rick, don't move," Pidge said, rushing to his side to help him to the ground. Leaning him against the wall, he was clutching at his stomach, attempting to stave off the blood flow. There was a lot more blood than she thought there would be.
"No, no no no!" Lee screeched.
"What did you think was going to happen?" Keith snapped, wiping his brow. "That bringing a gun would just make everything okay?"
Lee wasn't listening. Now free from Keith, he stood up, pacing again. His hands ran frantically through his hair until it was a jumbled mess. If he didn't look already out of sorts before, he sure did now. It left an unsettling feeling in the pit of Pidge's stomach.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and she could feel it in the air just moments before it happened. And when she turned to face Lee with a gun and a knife in each hand, it was as though she was looking through a screen, a video game where she had two choices.
Would you go for the knife or the gun?
Author's Note:
Now, this is where it goes beyond my control. You will choose how this story ends. If you do not think you can handle choosing your own ending, I recommend going into the chapter "Trust" and reading the rest of the story from there, disregarding the other chapters.
Apologies to those who read the previous chapter in its entirety.