Disclaimer, Warnings, Etc. - Please see the first chapter for those.

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-The Haunted-
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Chapter 6 - Suspicious Meeting

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Siri... help me, please - h-he says he'll k-kill me if you don't... I love you, please help me.... but he's set-mhhpmh!

Sirius lit another cigarette, white as a ghost, his fingers trembling, as Burns leaned across the desk and hit the STOP button on the tape recorder. The detective frowned, tenting his fingers and closing his eyes. I had the lab boys run tests on it. It's an ordinary, garden-variety tape, the kind you can buy in any shop in the country. He must have used gloves, or something - there were no fingerprints or anything on the tape or the envelope. He fixed Sirius with a steely look. When did you say this arrived?

J-just this morning. I found it with the rest of the post. Sirius tapped his cigarette over the ashtray on Burns' desk. I - I was afraid to open it... so I brought it here. It was true. He had been alarmed to find another envelope in the mail so soon after the last one, and its unusual shape and weight had perplexed him. He had brought it straight to the police and turned it over to Burns, but had left the photographs at home. Nobody would ever see them - he couldn't let anyone see what had happened to his Remus. As soon as his husband was safely home again, he would burn them. Every last one.

Burns scratched his chin. There's no telling for sure when this tape was recorded, he mused. It could be recent... but on the other hand, he could have recorded it right after kidnapping your lover, and then.... He didn't finish, but Sirius knew what was on his mind. It was entirely possible that Remus was already dead, the photographs and tape put together only hours after Remus' disappearance, and the kidnapper was using them in a cruel, torturous way to make Sirius think his lover was still alive. Sirius stubbed out his fag and lit another, keeping his head down so Burns wouldn't see the tears stinging at his eyelids.

The message on the tape was especially cryptic. What was Remus talking about? At the end of the message, it had sounded as if he had tried to say more, but had been cut off, probably muffled by the kidnapper's hand. Why would the kidnapper want Sirius to be there? Why was his presence necessary? He says he'll kill me if you don't. If he didn't come to help, Remus would be killed. That was obvious. He swallowed hard as Burns cleared his throat.

Another thing. This woman told you she saw Remus get into a dark blue van with a long-haired stranger? When Sirius nodded, he sighed. It's all very well and good - at least we know someone saw Remus... but do you know how many dark-blue vans there are in London? In England? What about Wales, Scotland? Ireland, even? There's no return address on the envelope the tape came in... no matter what that woman said, we're still no further along than we were. But I'll have a couple of my men ask her some follow-up questions, perhaps talk to the shop owner... He leaned forward, and his eyes were kind. I'm praying he's alive, Mr. Black. We'll catch this man and give him what he deserves.

Sirius nodded, standing. He shook hands with Burns, and headed out to the car. They couldn't punish the kidnapper the way he deserved, because they only knew half of the story... He clenched his teeth, flicking his cigarette butt to the pavement and getting into the car. Never mind. He would find Remus... and God help the man who had kidnapped him.

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Remus was sitting up quietly on his mattress, one arm curled around his knees. The other was still cuffed to the radiator, and he was moving it in slow circles to keep the blood flowing. He felt rather apathetic after his failed escape, and at the moment he wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just staring straight ahead at the dark oak-paneled wall. The only thing on his mind was the knowledge that he had failed to escape, and that he might be here for the rest of his life - which was looking shorter and shorter by the moment. His stomach growled angrily at him, and he pressed his free hand against his tummy. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Three days, maybe more? Nigel liked to punish him by withholding food, and his escape attempt had made the man very angry. A tear trickled down Remus' cheek at the thought of what had followed... tape-recording that horrible message for Sirius. He must be at the end of his wits by now... Remus reckoned he had been gone over a week, but less than a month - hard to do, considering he had been drugged for a lot of the time. He wondered if Sirius had found out where he was, or if he had heard the tape. Would he be able to figure out where his husband was being held?

The door creaked open. Remus' head snapped up and his heart leapt into his throat. By now, he associated that sound with imminent danger and severe pain.

Good morning, my love, Nigel cooed. His hair was in a ponytail today, and he was dressed in nice trousers and a leather jacket. He had obviously just returned from work. Remus noticed he was carrying a bowl of soup, and his stomach growled louder. He couldn't help letting a whimper escape his throat, and Nigel smiled. You've been so good lately, and I'm sure you're hungry. He pulled the key to the handcuff from his pocket, then raised a slender eyebrow. Now, if I unchain you long enough to eat your dinner, will you be good?

Remus was too hungry to care.

Good boy. He was unchained and handed the soup. Eat slow, or you'll make yourself sick. He had said the same thing the first time Remus had awakened in this house, and Remus couldn't repress a shudder at the memory. But the soup was too tempting. He began to eat, not caring how hot it was. Nigel sat at the foot of the mattress, his long legs crossed in front of him. Is it good?

Anything would have tasted good at this point, but Remus was eager to keep his captor in a good mood. T-thank you.

You're very welcome. See how easy it is to be good? One hand reached out and stroked Remus' hair. So... lovely. I wish we could have met under different circumstances... you could have modeled for me...

Remus accepted the napkin he was offered.

Why, yes. I'm a photographer, dear. I guess it never came up. I do hope the photos I sent to your dear Sirius came out all right.

The spoon clattered against the empty bowl. Remus said faintly. No... you.... you sent them to him?

Of course. I told you I would, Nigel said mildly, looking slightly surprised.

No. He couldn't have... when Sirius saw those photos... what would he think? Would he think Remus had gone along willingly? Of course not, not with the injuries... but a lingering fear remained in Remus' stomach. Sirius would be furious. He was a very protective and jealous man ordinarily; when he found out his lover had had sex with another man, even if it wasn't consensual...

He'll kill you, Nigel breathed in his ear. He kissed the side of Remus' neck. Think about it. When he saw those photos, can you imagine how he felt? He must have been furious. That's why he hasn't shown up, even after the photos and the tape... especially the tape...

No, it isn't, Remus whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. He doesn't know where I am! Until he finds out... when he does, y-you'll be so s-sorry... he'll kill you....

He is good at killing, isn't he? Nigel snarled. You're wrong, my pet. He couldn't care less about you. That's the real reason why he hasn't come for you.

It was one thing to think so, but Remus was damned if he'd listen to Nigel voicing his very worst fears. Shut up! You don't know anything about Sirius!

You think so, don't you? Nigel shouted, raising his hand to slap his hostage. I know a bit more about him than you think I do - he's the one who ruined my life!

Remus was tired of being hit. He shoved Nigel away from him, struggling to his feet and running for the doorway. Nigel made a lunge for him, roaring; Remus dodged, and the man's fingers scrabbled helplessly across the back of his ankle. Furious, Remus turned quickly round and kicked out; Nigel howled in pain as Remus' foot connected with his shoulder. Remus had been aiming for his face, but had missed. Still, he felt a grim pleasure at hurting the man who had hurt him so many times. He raced for the stairs, Nigel in pursuit. Nigel made another lunge at the top of the stairs, catching Remus round the waist. He would have ended the chase there and then, if it weren't for Remus' determination. Remus threw his weight forward, and they went tumbling down the stairs. It was quite a painful, bumpy trip, but at least Nigel's hands were jarred loose. Gasping, his body aching from the fall, Remus crawled across the floor, trying to get to the door. Nigel seized him by the ankle and pulled him back.

Let go of me! Remus' eyes darted around for the nearest weapon - the only thing within reach was a glass vase of putrid-looking dried petunias. He grabbed it and waved it threateningly at Nigel. Let me go, or I'll - I'll -

Shut up. Nigel couldn't reach Remus' face, so he gave him a sharp slap on the bum. Remus yelped, and swung the vase down. His captor dodged at the last second, the vase shattering on the thin carpet and sending dried, crumbly petunias flying. By a stroke of luck, Remus didn't get cut. He grabbed the largest shard and jabbed it at Nigel's hand as it inched towards his leg once more. He jabbed just a little too hard. The glass broke the skin, but Remus didn't feel the least bit of sympathy as Nigel yelled and yanked his hand back. Bright red blood spattered the cream-coloured carpet.

Now was the time to escape. Remus crawled to the door, cutting his heel on one of the shards of glass but not caring. He was almost there when Nigel landed on him like a ton of bricks, breathing heavily. Where do you think you're going, love?

Remus stabbed out blindly with the glass; a long, jagged cut appeared under Nigel's right eye. The glass dug painfully into Remus' palm and he gasped, dropping it. Blood ran down his fingers and over the bright gleam of his wedding ring. Clutching his wounded left hand to his chest, Remus reached for the piece of glass, but Nigel grabbed it first and threw it out of reach.

And I thought you were going to be a good boy, he panted. That Sirius gets you fired up, doesn't he? I just mention his name and you go from sweetie to brat almost instantly. Has he got you on that short a leash? He reached up and fumbled something into view -- the cane from the other night. He held the sharp tip at Remus' throat. Or have you got him on a leash? It wouldn't surprise me -

Let me up, Remus demanded angrily. He was tired of listening to Nigel's meaningless talk. You're mad! I won't stay here any longer! Let me up!

You act as though you're here by choice, Nigel said, sounding amused. How cute. But the answer is still no, my love. You're not going anywhere. Your Sirius must come to you.

Remus lifted his knee and jabbed it into his captor's stomach; it had been unexpected, and Nigel rolled off him with a grunt of pain - unfortunately wedged between Remus and the door. Remus staggered to his feet and grabbed the cane, backing up. There must be a back way out - there must - Nigel advanced on him, his green eyes narrowed. Give me that.

Remus clutched the cane tighter with both hands. Blood dribbled down the shaft. Leave me alone!

Give it to me!

Remus swung it at him. The cane had a heavy ball of amber attached to the top. It connected with his wounded cheek, quite hard. Nigel screamed in pain and stopped moving forward, his eyes widening in disbelief. He turned his head slightly and spat two teeth onto the floor.

You bitch, he said in wonder, staring down at them with one hand pressed against his bruised, bleeding cheek. You knocked out my teeth.

Remus hadn't stopped backing away. He bumped up against a wall. No, not a wall. A doorknob jabbed into his back. Keeping a tight grip on the cane with his right hand, he inched his left hand behind him, leaving smears of blood on the wall. He grasped the doorknob, turning it slowly, his eyes on Nigel. Then, with a triumphant shriek, he threw the door open and whirled around, one foot forward, expecting to see sunlight and other houses and automobiles and people - but saw only blackness.

He fell painfully, down what felt like an even longer and harder staircase than the one upstairs. He landed on a cold, damp floor, completely winded. The cane clattered nearby, but it was so dark, he couldn't see it. Gasping, he lay quite still. Where was he? He could hear something dripping, and the squeaks of what sounded like rats. A cellar?

The lights snapped on and he yelped in surprise, looking up. Nigel stood at the head of a rickety wooden staircase, one hand on the switch. The staircase was spotted with blood where Remus' hand had hit it on the way down. They were definitely in a cellar; an ancient washer-dryer stood nearby, cobwebs decorated every surface, and there was a shelf of canned things which looked like they hadn't been touched in years. It was a very damp and gloomy place.

Nigel was breathing heavily. His cheek was slowly turning a dark-purple colour and swelling; its appearance was only made worse by the gash under his eye. His mouth twisted into a wicked smile. Nice try, my love. But it didn't quite work, did it? He chuckled unpleasantly. The irony is, the cellar door is right next to the back door leading outside. If you hadn't picked the wrong one, you'd be running to your lover right now. He brushed stray hair out of his eyes. How would you like it if I left you down here, then?

Remus choked out. It was awful to be imprisoned in that bedroom, but being trapped in the cellar would be far worse. He could hear the rats burrowing in the walls; they weren't likely to be shy for long. And a damp, dark place like this was bound to be overrun with spiders... millipedes... maybe even cockroaches. But the most horrifying thought of all was that Nigel would leave him down here in the dark, not even the smallest bit of light to cheer him, with the rodents and insects and.... eurgh! Remus swallowed hard, panic rising inside him. No, please, don't leave me here, he begged. I-I'm sorry, I won't try to get away again, j-just - don't leave me down here!

Still smiling, Nigel descended the rickety staircase. Give me the cane.

Trembling, Remus held it out. Nigel wiped the blood off on his trousers, and tucked the stick under his arm. He helped Remus up. Come along, my pet. We'll go bandage your paw.

It was a great relief to be away from that musty, damp cellar. Remus was silent as he was brought upstairs and handcuffed to the radiator once more. Nigel cleaned and bandaged his sliced hand, then kissed his sweaty forehead. Back to being good, I see. I suppose you're afraid of the dark.

It wasn't true; Remus normally didn't mind the dark, but he did when he was surrounded by unknown, nasty creatures. He laid down and curled up into a little ball. Nigel rose. Don't think I'm done with you yet. But I have things to do first. Cheerio.

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Come on, Sirius, try to be a little more cheerful, Lily said, looking up at the dark-haired man. You're scaring all the little old ladies.

Sirius merely grunted in reply and reached up for the tomato paste on the highest shelf.

Lily Evans had been a friend of Remus' since before he and Sirius met; she and her boyfriend James Potter had always been interested in the Mysterious Stranger' Remus had been seeing. Now James and Lily were married, and had a small son named Harry. Normally, Sirius loved playing with the little boy, but today he wasn't in the best of moods. It was now nearly two weeks since Remus had vanished, and he couldn't help from fearing the worst. He had met Lily at the market, and she had persuaded him to join the Potters for dinner that night. He was wandering through the market with her now, mostly because it felt soothing to have a friend close by, and partly because Lily was too short to reach items on the high shelves.

I'm sure Remus is fine, Lily continued, checking tomato paste' off on her grocery list and pushing the carriage down the aisle. He can take care of himself. You of all people should know that by now.

Uncle Remmie on an adv'ture, little Harry crowed from the carriage, tossing a bag of frozen peas to the floor.

Sirius forced himself to smile at the small boy, bending over to retrieve the peas. Wherever Remus was, it couldn't be considered an adventure, and he was probably having a lot less fun than Harry thought he was. However, he ruffled the boy's hair. You bet.

Siri, mind going over to the deli and fetching me a half-pound of turkey? Lily asked absently. Her entire attention had been drawn to two brands of cereal that were on sale, and she was debating over which was the better buy. Things like this took Lily several minutes; so Sirius agreed. He hoisted Harry out of the carriage, perched him on his hip, and headed for the deli.

They had only gone a few paces when someone rounded the corner and bumped into them; groceries tumbled to the floor. Sirius caught the fellow by his arm before he could fall. Sorry, chap - didn't see you coming, God, I'm clumsy sometimes -

No, no... I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going... The two men knelt to gather up the fallen groceries. When it was all set to rights, they rose. The other man swept his long brown hair out of his eyes. One cheek was horribly bruised, a bulky bandage under one eye. His hand was wrapped in bandages as well.

What happened to you? Sirius asked blankly, as Harry burbled and cried, Boo boo!

A-accident at work, the man said shiftily, his eyes not meeting Sirius'. He moved away, the raven-haired man frowning after him.

Strange bloke, he said to Harry, before resuming his quest for turkey.

He dismissed the man from his mind, but was startled to see him ahead of himself and Lily in the checkout line. Long brown hair... something clicked in his mind. He watched closely as the man paid and headed out the door. He was walking towards a dark blue van...

Sirius plopped Harry down in the carriage. Sorry, Lil, I've got to go.

Lily was startled. What are you talking about?

I've got to do something.

Are you still coming for dinner? Lily called.

I'll try! He pushed through the line, ignoring protests and angry mutters. The man was climbing into his van as Sirius dashed across the parking lot to his car. Long brown hair and a dark blue van... he was probably wrong, but there was no way he would let the possibility of finding Remus escape him... and the man had seemed very suspicious in the market, like he was hiding something. No, it was all just too much of a coincidence. Most likely Burns would go mad at him for going after a lead without informing him, and possibly for stalking innocent citizens, but Sirius didn't care.

He was as discreet as possible trailing the van. It led him to a neighbourhood made up of scrungy-looking townhouses and dirty sidewalks, overflowing dustbins at every corner. Carefully, Sirius parked some ways away from the townhouse the van stopped at. He watched as the man removed his groceries from the back of the van and headed inside. Well, this was a slight problem. How was Sirius going to follow? He couldn't just go knocking on the door, but what was he to do? What if Remus was in that house?

The door of the townhouse opened again. Barely daring to breathe, Sirius watched as the man climbed into his van and drove off. Where was he going? Would he be back soon?

Never mind. Sirius got out of the car and hurried up the street. Maybe the man was only heading out for a moment, but that was long enough to check the house and see if Remus was there. He looked around when he reached the door of the townhouse. The streets were deserted, and the nearest buildings had their shades drawn.

The door was locked. No matter. A few rams with his shoulder and it burst open. It was a very cheap lock, Sirius noted. He gazed around as he shut the door behind him. It was a very dim, dusty place that looked rather like it belonged to an elderly woman with a fondness for cats, instead of someone Sirius' age. Vases of dried flowers were scattered about the room, resting on doilies; the furniture was quite old and shabby; the pictures on the wall hung in majestic, old-fashioned gilded frames. He moved into the kitchen. Here he received an unpleasant surprise - smears of something on the back wall. It looked like dried blood. He turned quickly, bumping into the counter and upsetting a tall cup holding several cooking utensils. The whole lot tumbled into the sink with a clatter. Cursing under his breath, Sirius returned the cup to its proper place and put the utensils back inside. He retreated hastily back into the living room, and turned his attention to the stairs. He climbed them slowly, wincing every time one squeaked.

Is someone out there? Please, help me...

Sirius head jerked around. The voice had come from a door on his left, and it sounded like... like...

He tore the door open, and his eyes widened. It was Remus, laying on the same stained mattress that had been in the photographs. He was dressed in a pair of pajamas too big for him, his left hand wrapped in bandages. He was bruised and disheveled, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. But it was Remus, and he was alive.

Remus could barely believe his eyes. He thought he must be hallucinating. Sirius stood in the doorway, looking amazed. He had come. He was here. Everything was going to be all right now - assuming this really was Sirius, and not a dream.

R-Remmie - His husband crossed the room in two long strides and fell to his knees beside him. Remus whimpered as he was drawn into Sirius' strong arms, tears spilling down his cheeks. He put his free arm around Sirius, clinging to him like a drowning man clutching at a straw. Sirius' hands ran up his back, his lips placing kisses on Remus' forehead, his cheeks, his lips. Oh, God, Remmie - my love - oh, darling - I found you - Sirius was weeping as well, the kisses growing steadily wetter and saltier, but Remus didn't care. He hugged Sirius tighter and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of his lover, the scent he had missed so much. He wasn't thinking of what had happened to him or what Sirius might think. Every part of his being was just glad to be in Sirius' arms again. It was okay now. Nothing bad could happen with Sirius nearby.

What is this? Sirius asked softly. He had found the handcuff. His fingers ran along the chain, frown lines appearing on his brow. Who chained you like this?

Remus shook his head against Sirius' shoulder. I want to go home.

I know. I have to get you out of this first.... Sirius let go of Remus and stood. Hold on... I'm going to poke around a little. The key has to be around here somewhere.

Don't leave me... Remus begged. It isn't, it can't be... he always takes it with him... He caught hold of Sirius' t-shirt. He was terrified. He didn't want Sirius to leave. He might never come back.

Sirius knelt, cupping Remus' chin in his hand. Who takes what?

N-Nigel... takes the key.

Nigel? Is that the bloke who did this to you?

Siri -

His lover was growing red in the face. Is that the bastard who did those things to you? His eyes were nearly black with rage. I'll kill him, he whispered, forgetting all his previous vows. I swear, I'll kill him, I'll make what he did to you look like a bloody walk in the park -

No, Siri! Remus begged. Stop, listen to me - he's - I know him, he was one of Williams' friends!

The comment had the effect of a slap on his husband. Sirius looked stunned.

That's right, a cold voice said from the doorway, and both men turned to see Nigel standing there. I knew him. And you killed him. I saw the whole thing. Now, Black - I will kill Remus in front of you, and you will know the pain I felt back then!

He advanced on them, drawing out a long knife.

To Be Continued...

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(A/N: Hahahaha! I am the cliffhanger queen! I wrote this whole chapter while roasting in the heat of my room, watching Ren & Stimpy and listening to the Beatles. (Not at the same time, of course.) Spellcheck was done listening to Sailor Moon music. But I'm on a roll here. I'm coming close to the end, and it's getting more and more exciting. You know what other Stephen King story this reminds me of? Misery'! I never saw the movie, but I've read the book tons of times. It's about a crazy woman who holds her favourite writer hostage after he's injured in a car crash. Wah!! The similarities are scary. That's another creepy book, though not as gory as Gerald's Game'. However, the gory parts in Misery' are pretty awful. Eurgh.

But now it's lunchtime. I'm off to eat egg salad and read Magic Knight Rayearth. Until chapter 7, adieu.)