And we're off! Starting out the month of whump with some Golden Wind (and actually not torturing Giorno right off the bat XD) Most of the Whumptober days are going to be JoJo but I also have some Supernatural fics and a couple Merlin ones if you're interested in that.

Today's Prompts Used: "You Have to Let Go"| bound

Day One

All Trussed Up and Still Nowhere to Go

Trish tried to keep the panic at bay. She trusted the others to come get her, she did, but still, she wished she was anywhere else right now.

Trish had never been afraid of heights, and really, were people ever really afraid of heights, or was it falling? Because that's what she was looking at right now, nothing but twenty stories of building below her, feet dangling free, arms and shoulders aching from the ropes binding them from her wrists to elbows. As much as they hurt, she was almost glad they were so tight, after all, if they weren't she would have fallen by now.

She started as a shadow passed over her and she glanced up to see her captor grinning cruelly down at her.

"Comfy, signorina? It's a shame no one's come for you yet. Perhaps they don't care about you after all. I'll be rather disappointed if they don't show up. After all, I was hoping to get a good payout from you."

Trish felt tears prick at her eyes. She knew it was stupid. Giorno and the others would come for her. She just felt so helpless, unable to even use her Stand while being trussed so tightly.

Her captor tutted. "Don't cry, signorina. If they don't come, you'll always have a place with me." He reached down to run his fingers across her cheek and she shuddered and pulled away before she thought better of it and the action made her swing slightly in her ropes.

Trish shut her eyes tightly as he chuckled and pulled back inside. Tears leaked down her cheeks finally. The worst part was that this was all her fault too. She shouldn't have gone out alone when they knew someone was targeting their team. She'd only made it easier for this man to get at Giorno and she wasn't sure she would ever forgive herself for that, especially if something were to happen to Giorno or one of the others because of this.

That was when she heard a knock from the inside of the room, someone at the door.

She tried to crane her head to see, but was too far below the window ledge. Straining her ears instead, she caught the sound of Giorno's voice and relief flooded through her.

"You came alone?" her captor asked.

"Yes, as agreed upon," she heard Giorno reply.

"Good. Set the money down on the table. My man will count it before I release the girl."

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of a zipper opening and the shuffle of bills.

Then all of a sudden there was a blood curdling screech.

"What the hell?"

The shout was cut off by a heavy impact and Trish could clearly hear Gold Experience's cry of 'muda' out the open window.

And then Giorno was there at the window, leaning out.

"Trish!" he cried, reaching down and grabbing her bound arms.

"Giorno," she cried, not even bothering to hide her tears now as relief flooded her.

But it seemed her relief came too soon, because as soon as Giorno cut the ropes and began to pull her up, she saw her captor stagger up from the floor, reaching into his coat, presumably for a gun.

"Giorno!"

Giorno had to let go of her with one hand as he spun around, grabbing for his own concealed pistol. Trish yelped as she slammed back against the side of the building, bruising her shoulder and ribs. She clawed desperately at Giorno's arm to hold on tighter but her hands were barely working, numb, and still bound together. The door to the room was kicked open and more gunshots rang out, one whizzing by Giorno's head, clipping his hair on the way.

"Trish," he said breathlessly. "I need both hands. You have to let go, do you understand?"

"What?" she shrieked, clutching his wrist even tighter.

Giorno barely ducked another bullet and turned to shoot again. "Trish if you don't let go, neither of us are getting out of here." He met her eyes briefly. "Trust me."

Trish gulped, and then did one of the hardest things she had ever done. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let go of Giorno.

She fell, the night air rushing past her. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, not wanting to see the drop, the incoming ground…

And then she touched something soft and springy, a net that softened her fall and cradled her halfway down the building. Trish finally pried her eyes open, looking around in awe to see green. Giorno had turned one of the balconies below into a net of ivy.

She sobbed in relief, and a second later, a zipper appeared in the wall and Bucciarati slid halfway out, looking just as relieved as she did, reaching out to her.

"Come here cara mio."

She gratefully rolled toward him and he pulled her through into the building, using Sticky Fingers to relieve her of the ropes still tied tightly around her forearms.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked softly.

Trish instantly threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder, ignoring how much her body hurt from being in that position for almost an hour, how numb her hands were. "No, not too badly."

He hummed and held her tightly. "I'm glad you're all right. The boys are just cleaning everything up now. Let's get you out to the car."

He simply picked her up, Trish's legs too wobbly to stand very well, and they made their way out of the building to the car parked outside on the street.

By the time they got there, Giorno was already back with the others, looking a little rough, but unharmed.

"Dude! Turning the money in the bag into scorpions was an amazing idea!" Narancia was crowing, as Giorno gave him a tired grin.

Bucciarati set Trish down carefully as they made it to the car, and she instantly staggered forward, throwing her arms around Giorno.

"Thank you," she told him as he hugged her back after a few seconds of being surprised.

"I told you you could trust me," he said softly.

"We're just really glad to have you back," Narancia said as he and Mista also joined in the hug. Trish felt warm and safe now with her family. She may not have chosen this life, but she couldn't have asked for better people to spend it with.

"Come on, I'm sure Trish would like to get back home," Bucciarati said quietly to the others, motioning to Abbacchio and Fugo who were in the front seat, Fugo with a phone in his hand probably calling in for a clean-up.

Trish sank into the back of the van between Giorno and Narancia and passed out almost instantly, knowing she was definitely safe now.