Twenty Five: Duct Tape

A/N: Set between 'The Secret of the Unicorn' and 'Red Rackham's Treasure'.

He was really beginning to miss traditional kidnappings.

For one thing, he realised that restraining someone with tape provided fewer opportunities for escape. The material was easy to rip from the roll, with the sound making him cringe as he'd struggled to avoid becoming encased in its grip. He felt it being wrapped around his wrists and most of his hands, and was horrified at how much they used to secure his legs and ankles. The adhesive stuck surprisingly well to his sweater, enabling the kidnappers to tie his arms to his sides quite efficiently. They might as well have just made me into a mummy…I think my crotch is the only duct-tape-free area at this point.

Another thing he hadn't expected was the smell. He'd used duct tape plenty of times before, but now that it had been plastered on less than five centimetres from his nostrils, he finally realised what a plastic, chemical smell it carried, and how nauseous it made one feel. Why take regular drugs when you can get a buzz from sniffing this stuff?…

The first thing he'd been greeted with upon meeting his kidnappers was a demand to know the location of Red Rackham's treasure, which was quite redundant given that they seemingly expected him to give an intelligible answer through six layers of duct tape. He'd raised an eyebrow in response to the question, only to receive a swift slap across the face, which did nothing to ease his rapidly-dwindling patience.

"We will not remove the tape; you would be easily heard by others," The lead kidnapper snarled.

Tintin rolled his eyes. What, do you people expect me to think the answer at you?

The 'interrogation' had ended very quickly after that, for they seemingly decided that it wasn't worth trying to get answers out of a gagged prisoner.

He'd long given up on its attempts to struggle, for every movement seemed to cause him pain. He regretted not wearing a long sleeve sweater, for the tape that bound his arms pulled the skin and individual hairs with each breath.

He had to keep reminding himself that he could breathe, but having the tape wrapped thickly around his mouth and most of his chest did little to ease his worries. The resistance he encountered when inhaling was real, and it terrified him. At least rope generally doesn't do this…

The kidnappers must have decided they were sick of seeing his pitiful struggles at some point, for he found himself being dragged unceremoniously into a closet. He had next to no control over his body as they arranged him to be propped up against a rather-uncomfortable crate.

"We will contact your friend Mister Haddock," One of the kidnappers spoke, his gravelly voice indicating that he was a heavy smoker. "If he does not give us the location of the treasure, you'll soon be joining Red Rackham himself."

The door was slammed and locked, plunging Tintin into darkness.

Being in the closet was what Tintin imagined being buried alive was like. No light, no sound, no sense of time; just the suffocating darkness to keep him company. He didn't consider himself to be claustrophobic, but this experience was definitely putting him to the test.

As soon as the kidnappers had left, he couldn't help but laugh at their threat. Even we don't know where Red Rackham's treasure is, you idiots! We've got coordinates, but that could mean anything!

He'd tried everything he could think of to dislodge the tape; rubbing his wrists on the sides of the crate did nothing to budge the seemingly-indestructible material, nor did attempting to pull his hands from behind him. If they hadn't taped my arms down I probably would've been out of here by now.

He was beginning to think he'd have to kick the door down when his head shot up as he heard the vague, but distinctive sound of Snowy's barking. "Hmmph! Mmm hmmph!" Snowy! I'm here, boy!

"What is it, Snowy? Where is he?" The faint voice of the Captain sent waves of relief through his body. Oh, thank the Lord…

Snowy's bark continued to grow louder before the familiar sound of scratching paws on the closet door brought tears to Tintin's eyes. "Mmmhmm!" Captaine!

"Tintin?"

Tintin desperately kicked his legs out, managing to knock over a nearby box. "Mmhmm hmmph!" I'm here, Captaine! I'm here!

The door handle twisted a few times as Haddock fiddled with the lock. Snowy's pawing became more frantic, and Tintin found he had to restrain himself from hyperventilating. Hurry up, I'm here! I'm here I'm here-

"Tintin!" Haddock managed to force the door open, falling to his knees next to the young man as Snowy began to paw at Tintin's bonds. His eyes widened as he was able to see the full extent of Tintin's restraints, his fingers uselessly fiddling along the edges of the tape. "Oh, my lad…how much did they use?"

Tintin could only give him a small mumble and a shrug in reply. "Hmmhmm!" At least a whole roll? I don't care anymore! Just get it off me!

"Oh, of course, lad," Haddock's fingers moved to the tape around Tintin's mouth, flicking the edge until he could properly grasp it. He gave the young man a determined look. "There's no easy way to do this, lad; I don't have any scissors with me. Ready?"

Tintin gave Snowy a guick glance before nodding. Please, Captaine. Do it.

Swallowing nervously, Haddock began to pull on the duct tape, cringing at the sound it made as the layers began to peel away. He attempted to hide his disbelief at how much had been used to gag his friend, but he couldn't stop the anger that began to swell in his chest. Blistering barnacles, if I ever see these men myself…

The Captain felt his heart breaking when he reached the final layer, for Tintin's groans of pain became steadily louder as he pulled adhesive away from his skin. "Almost there, lad, almost there."

Tintin's cries of pain reached their full volume once the tape over his lips was yanked away. He gasped reflexively, though the sudden cold air on his tortured skin provided a very unpleasant sensation. An ugly indent mark now covered the bottom half of his face, with the skin on his lips now bleeding and chafed. Despite the pain that it caused when Snowy jumped up and began licking his master's face, he still smiled. I missed you too, boy.

"Well done, lad!" Haddock praised, patting the young man on the shoulder. "Are you alright, Tintin?"

The reporter swallowed a few times, not trusting his voice. He suddenly felt very small in that moment. "…How'd you find me, Captaine?"

"Snowy, of course!" Haddock shuffled behind Tintin as he began to unravel the tape around his hands. His anger reignited upon seeing the restraints. "Blistering barnacles, how much bloody tape did they-"

"Captain," Tintin's voice was strained, his eyes squeezed shut. "I know…please, just…just get it off me."

Haddock paused for a moment, halfway through unravelling the young man's wrists. "Of course, lad. I-I didn't mean to upset you-"

"You didn't," Tintin interrupted. "It's just…it's been a while, and I'd like to…to stretch my legs."

The Captain gave Tintin's shoulder a comforting squeeze, rapidly blinking to stop himself from crying. "I know, lad. You're doing so well. Just give me a minute."

It was closer to half an hour before he was finally freed of his bonds, and another ten minutes before the pins and needles in his limbs began to dissipate. Every inch of skin that had been covered with tape looked as though it had been sunburnt; he found it painful to flex his wrists, for the tape had bitten into the crevices in his skin.

While it ended up taking much longer than a minute to free him, Tintin found he didn't mind.

His two best friends had found him, he was unharmed, and that was all that mattered.

Next time, though, I'm keeping a pair of nail scissors in my pocket.