Prisoners of War

By Dixxy

Chapter Three

"For the last ruddy time, I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!"

The fat, purple Mystic conducting his torture session eyed Glenn with mild disgust. "Filthy human- we'll stop if you just tell us everything you know about Viper Manor. It's not that difficult a concept, is it? Or do ENJOY being whipped? Hmm? Is this some sort of a dirty fantasy you think about as you lie awake in bed every night? Do you LIKE the streaks of searing hot pain across your back?" The Mystic waddled over to Glenn and grabbed his chin, looking his face over. "Seems as if you had some sort of an encounter with pain another time. Lovely little mark you have there."

"Got into a fight with a cat when I was kid," Glenn offered, trying to wrench his head away from the offensive torturer. "And no, I do NOT know ANY secrets that would be of value to your and your selfish, low down dirty Mystic army and their effort to take over my home!"

CRACK!

Glenn screamed at the whip once again lashed against his back. To begin with he was in an uncomfortable situation. He was kneeling on the floor with two chains stretching his arms towards the ceiling, a cuff around his neck that kept it upright, and two shackles binding his legs to the floor. He couldn't move much and every muscle in his body was beginning to strain. He tasted the coppery liquid that was his own blood in his mouth, earned from a busted lip that that the Mystic had given him.

The Mystic backed off for a second, giving Glenn was a few precious seconds to try and catch his breath. He listened as the torturer's feet clicked against the cement floor, an eerie sound that sent shivers up and down his spine. Glenn closed his eyes, shuddered, and tried to shake the feeling off.

"Now, what is the General planning? Hmm? Is he going to put emphasis on his navy, or on the military itself? Will there be any weak points? Anywhere that my people can slip in easily?" The Mystic shoved his face into Glenn's. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself, you filthy little bastard?"

Does this Mystics have some sort of a fascination with calling me "filthy"? Glenn wondered. He narrowed his eyes. Whatever you do, don't tell the Mystic anything. Anything could put El Nido in danger. The passwords to get into the throne room, the secret entrances above the Bluffs and through the Shadow Forest are the weakest points in the entire Manor.

"Well?!"

Considering he needs me alive. . . Glenn spat at the Mystic.

The Mystic wasn't fond of the action and clumsily fell backwards onto his back, screeching and screaming about how the filthy human sprayed him with his filthy human spit. His short, stubby legs flailed as he wailed and cried about what Glenn had seen fit to happen. A few more Mystics came in, trying to decide what had happened to their friend. The young Dragoon lowered his head so he could grin. If it weren't for the fact that Glenn was chained and bound, he would've laughed. Stupid Mystics.

The purple Mystic regained his composure and stood up, brushing his clothing off and waddling back over to Glenn. He looked up at his captor, clearing his face of all emotion. Now wasn't the time for a wise crack. "Listen here, you dirty little piece of human filth! If you even THINK about doing that again I'll ENSURE that your stay here will be even MORE unpleasant."

Glenn cringed at the thought. How much more "unpleasant" could this be?! The only good thing that had happened since he'd been taken prisoner (which, in itself was a small miracle) was Serge. Everything else was horrendous. He'd watched Termina, his childhood home, under attack. He'd been captured and taken to another land. Now he was being tortured. What else could that slimy Mystic do to make his stay worse than it already was?

Still, he didn't want to test the Mystic. Glenn didn't know very much about the Mystics, but he knew some of them could use magic that didn't require the use of Elements or even Tech Skills. It was THEIR magical power they drew from. And he didn't know how powerful these spells were, much less compared to what an Element or Tech Skill could do.

The Mystic watched his prisoner with hawk-like eyes. Glenn stayed quiet, only crying out whenever he was struck. He stopped answering the Mystic's questions, choosing silence over verbal defiance. The Dragoon kept his head lowered, clenching his teeth shut to try and stop himself from crying out. Perhaps the Mystic would get tired of him and leave him alone for a little while.

But no such relief seemed to come. The whip cracked down on his back again and again, and Glenn began to wonder what condition his backside was in. He was in quite a bit a pain by that time from both the whip and the unflattering, uncomfortable position he was in. His head was spinning and throbbing, which added to a slowly growing instance of severe nausea.

Finally, the Mystics appeared to stop. But since they didn't leave the room, Glenn didn't feel a need to relax himself just yet. Wait until they unchain him and lead him to a different cell. Then he could cope with the pain and stress. But not now. He had to stay strong. For El Nido. Think of El Nido. Think of the Dragoons and everyone you know and care about in Viper Manor.

Think about Serge.

"We're not getting anything out of him," one of the Mystic guards said.

"We will," said the purple Mystic. The large blob of blubber looked at Glenn, waddled over, and peered him in the face. "My, my, my, you poor little Dragoon boy. You look EXHAUSTED." Glenn scowled at the Mystic, but still said nothing. The Mystic laughed and turned to his colleagues, nodding at them. He had a calm, cold look on his face as he gave the other Mystics their orders. "You know what to do with a prisoner who DESPERATELY wants sleep. . ."

~

What day is it? How long have I been here? Has it been months, already, or am I more confused than I thought? Wait, why am I so confused? I just want to go home! Is help on the way? Will the Dragoons be here soon? Can they get me out of here? Why am I here? When will it be over!?

Thanks to the head Mystic's orders to his guards, Glenn hadn't been allowed to sleep or eat (or move, for that matter- he was still in the same position he'd been in when the purple Mystic left). He was hungry, beyond the point of exhaustion and was beginning to loose perception of his surroundings. He had no idea how long it had been since the purple mystic had left- it felt like days, though he had no way of knowing. With his sleep pattern so violently disturbed, he didn't know up from down anymore. Hell, Glenn wasn't sure if he could tell the difference between a block of ice and a rabbit at that point. All he cared about was sleep.

The ways he was being kept awake were varied in both the complexity and cruelty of the methods. Sometimes it was just as simple as making loud noises to jolt him awake every time he tried to nod of. Other times they poured water over his head, once dunking his head into a bucket. That, however, he used to his advantage whenever it happened. Food he could go a while without- sure he'd loose a lot of weight and need to build his muscle back up after he was able to eat properly again, but water you could only go so long without. Whenever he was dunked, he would take a mouthful of the water and swallow it before they took his head out of the water. The guards also hit him, shook him, screamed at him, and put him through other kinds of abuses he couldn't possibly remember for the life of him. Glenn's mind had filled with a haze that he couldn't see through, with the exception of the desires for sleep and food.

"Well, well, well, aren't we looking bright and happy today?"

Glenn barely recognized the sound of his tormentor's voice. He shook involuntarily, the sound of the Mystic causing his convulsion. "No. . ." he moaned. Glenn felt weak and helpless, not wanting the offensive Mystic in the room with him. "Go away. . . stop it. . ."

Now his tormentor took on a kind, generous tone of voice. Briefly, Glenn was reminded of his parents. "Would you like to sleep? Or something to eat? You look very tired and hungry, perhaps even a little thirsty. Would you like that, hmm? I bet a nice, warm bed sounds really good right about now."

Glenn's eyes quickly opened as he fell forwards. "Sleep!"

"Yes! You can sleep and eat to your heart's content. All you need to do is tell us what you know about Viper Manor, El Nido, Termina, and any other key areas in your country. Isn't that easy? Just talk to us about your home and you get to get away from this awful place! Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Sleep. . ."

"Yes, yes, you can sleep! But you need to talk to us first, boy."

Talk to them. . .

NO!

But sleep. . .

NO! They're playing you!

Shut up. Sleep.

Glenn groaned. He was fighting the desire to stay quiet and to give in to temptation. At least he was still conscious enough to know that revealing anything he knew could be disastrous. He didn't want to see any of his loved ones hurt because he wanted to be selfish and sleep.

"Well?"

Glenn shook his head, waking up his conscious a little more. "NEVER!" he shouted. His head fell and he began to shed tears. "Let me go home! I want to go home!" He shook from a chill, beginning to loose energy and willpower. "Please, just let me go! Let me go back home to Termina!"

"No one's going to save you, boy!"

"Shut up!" Glenn insisted.

The Mystic grabbed Glenn by the hair on his head, causing the Dragoon to cry out in anguish. He found himself staring his captor in the face, and saw just how unpleasant the Mystic looked right about then. "You're just a lowly little private- General Viper and the Devas don't care about you! Not the little brat Marcy, not the big lunk-head Zoah, not the smart-ass Karsh, and certainly not the brave, noble Dario."

Glenn blinked. "Brother. . . not Dario. . ."

The Mystic dropped Glenn in surprise. "What did you just say!?"
Glenn stared blankly ahead of him. "Dario. . . he is my brother."

The chamber was silent. At first, Glenn was unaware of why. Had the Mystics given up on him after the long, endless interrogation? Glenn was nearly ready to cry from joy. Did this mean freedom? Were they going to let him go home after being stuck in the land for so long! A wave of relief washed over Glenn as he dipped his head again. Home. He was going home. They were giving up!

But then that little voice spoke up again.

But there's no sense in that. I only told them-

Oh, fuck.

"So, you're the Great Garai's OTHER son," said the Mystic. He lifted Glenn's chin up again. The Dragoon watched as the Mystic looked him over in amused interest, chuckling as he threw him backwards. "I can see the family resemblance. There isn't a lot, but it's there. Never though I'd land myself a catch quite this good. Wouldn't it be a shame if something happened to poor, poor little Dario's baby brother? Hmm?"

I'm an idiot.

"Bring the boy to a private cell- I want him well rested and taken care of. We're going to show the Deva that his precious baby brother is all right- for now. If the boy doesn't cooperate, then he's going to find a head without its body in his bed one fine morning." He turned to Glenn, grinned menacingly, and began to cackle.

What have I done!?

~

The next several hours, or days, were a blur to the Dragoon. Glenn knew he was in a much more comfortable holding cell, as he spent most of his time on a reasonably soft mat of some sort. That, and some time in a bath (which, as his mental condition got better and better, he reasoned was a good idea).

Glenn knew that someone kind and familiar was getting him to eat and drink. Is mind, however, was still too distorted from the torture session to remember who it was. Sometimes Glenn KNEW who it was for a few moments, but then he'd black out and forget who it was altogether, which frustrated him to no end.

At one point the haze had cleared up enough to the point where Glenn was able to recall waking up (something he wasn't used to). He sat up on the mat, yawning. At least he was feeling better today. Tired, but better. He looked around to get a better view of his surroundings and evaluate his situation.

The room was slightly bigger than the room he'd kissed Serge in as well as a little tidier and lighter. The floor was covered with a thin, rough carpet, but that beat the hard stone of his previous environments. In the corner a figure had wrapped himself up in blankets, sleeping soundly.

That must be my mystery care-taker, Glenn reasoned. He stood up, stretched his legs, and clumsily fell back to the ground. Damn it, my legs are not working correctly. Is this another result of being tortured? Being unable to control my own body?! Glenn shuddered at thought, then shook his head. No. This is probably just because I have not used them in far too long- this could happen for any reason, I suppose. Satisfied with that answer, he began to crawl towards the form.

As he grew closer, he saw that the lump of blankets was moving. Waking up, perhaps? Curious, Glenn pressed on. If this WAS his care-taker, he wanted to thank them for helping him through his difficult time. Even if he was, perhaps, doomed to die anyways.

Glenn knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, aside from Riddel and maybe General Viper, he was the single most important person in Dario's life at that point. The brothers, to each other, were the only family they had. Glenn's aunts and uncles had all passed away before having children or, in some cases, even before marrying. Dario could only recall brief snippets of times with their grandparents, who all passed away before Glenn had even been born. And with both of their parents dead, all they had until one of them had children (something Glenn didn't think he'd have unless Serge could magically get pregnant) was each other.

Still, if it meant the difference between his life and the safety of El Nido. . .

Finally, the lump sat up as Glenn sat kneeling before them. The blankets had been pulled over the person's head, still concealing their identity. Mustering up the remainder of his courage, Glenn opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in the back of his throat. What was he supposed to say, anyways?

The figure shook, the blankets making the movement seem almost fluid. They dropped, pooling around the slender waist concealed inside. When Glenn saw who it was who had helped him, he couldn't believe his eyes. His caretaker turned to him, smiled playfully, and laughed.

"Gee, mate, I didn't think you'd wake up so soon," Kid said wryly.

~

First off, to those celebrating it today, Happy Easter!!!

I've never really done a torture session before (which is one reason why this chapter took so long to get out -_-*). I chose to take a more psychological approach to it, as that can get really nasty sometimes. Lack of sleep and food can really, really suck. As Glenn learned.

Initially I was going to make the other person in the room Serge, but I decided that was too boring and predictable, so I decided to screw with your heads a little bit. So now it's Kid.

More comments! Yay!

Alba: Mmm. . . I suppose so. But I still stick to the fact that Korcha needs to put some pants on. But in his favor at least he isn't a flabby fat man in a Speedo. Ew, images in my head!!! Yeah, Korcha does get temperamental. Okay, so maybe I like his character, but not his no pants thing. And he provides a great "piss-off Kid" plot device, who DOESN'T like to piss off Kid? ^___^ Yeah. I couldn't resist. I was just trying to figure out the best way the two could react to the fight. You wouldn't think he'd think like that, would you? I'm not overly excited about Van stuff either, but I was just trying to think of an innocent shonen-ai pairing, and you have to admit Van fits the bill. Comedy romance? Can't wait. Okay, I will.

Uftaki: Thank you for the chapter direct comments. One of the ones I listed? OH! OH! Is it Karsh/Norris?! Or. . . Norris/Glenn? Karsh/Glenn? Which ones did I list? Oh. That was all of them. All else fails you can do a love triangle situation (Glenn loves Norris but Norris loves Karsh but Karsh loves Glenn. . .). Yeah. Because there is so little character development with the Chrono series (yes, even Trigger in some cases) there's just so much that the reader has to add. Serge's personality is a perfect example. Thank you!

Tami: Oh. I like both a lot, but it really depends on the mood I'm in, MKR stands for Magic Knight Rayearth, which is by CLAMP. In short, three junior high girls (Hikaru, Fuu, and Umi) are taken from Tokyo Tower, where they were on a field trip, to the land of Cephiro. They have to become Magic Knights to save the land and its princess, Emeraude. Ferio is a "swordsman" they meet in the woods one day who is clearly meant to be some sort of a love interest for Fuu. This is probably a fan favorite pairing- Hikaru has two people she could end up with, as does Umi. But Ferio/Fuu is a pairing even I wouldn't mess with, and once you see Thick as Thieves you'll see how much I love to mess with pairings. Bakura just never did anything for me (though I LUV that sexy British accent- I just happen to like Joey's hardheadedness and Yami Yugi's, uh, Yami Yugi-ness). I don't like anti-gay people. I mean, if a friend of mine was anti-gay I probably wouldn't disown them unless they were really fanatic about it. But in my opinion, I would much rather see two men (or two women) in a loving, caring relationship rather than a man and a woman in an abusive, unloving relationship. Not to say all heterosexuals are in those situations- far from it!- but I don't see where the choice is difficult. Yeah. Who knows how long they're gonna live? Might as well say it before it's too late. I don't think I'm in any real danger of a burnout. I like juggling lots of stuff! That way if I'm stuck on one fic I have something else to work on.

Kar-chan: Yeah! I suppose it is. Ah, that's okay. Well, I just wanted to give it a try- the Ronin's will probably remain straight in my stories, though I'm not against a gay bad guy becoming infatuated with one of our boys. Actually, I was. Though I guess that would do it (shonen-ai). Glenn's my favorite character, too. He gets victimized in most of my other CC stuff as well, though he's straight in all of those pieces. Hmm, well, you could always try a second-hand game store that sells new and used games. Or, you can try to purchase it online. Amazon.Com has it at a kinda high price (unless you go used). E-bay is always an option (and you can find other Chrono Cross stuff, too). I'm at e-bay now they seem to have some new ones available and the soundtrack. Ooo. . . soundtrack. . . *drools* Heh, Dragonia. Haven't worked on it in a while to tell you the truth. I probably should though, shouldn't I? Aw, that's okay Kar-chan. I like getting reviews from anyone!

Akemi: I KNOW! There isn't enough of it!!! IT'S SO FREAKIN' SAD!!! I think that there could be more, but let's face it- Chrono Cross may be a GREAT game, but not every fan is going to write fanfiction and not every player will love every game. Compared to the Final Fantasy series, Kingdom Hearts, and the Zelda series, CC is small beans in the world of video game fanfiction. But that isn't such a bad thing all the time. For one, I can honestly say that there's a bigger percentage of really good fic writers in this community than in the others. In fandoms like Harry Potter or even my other major fandom, Ronin Warriors, you have to wade through loads of pure CRAP before you can even find something remotely enjoyable. And I do mean CRAP. RW is a fandom plagued with bad Mary Sues. Do I write RW Mary Sues? Yes, I do, but, not to sound egotistical, I don't write "crap". I take great care and pride to produce quality products, and my RW readers know I like to take down and revise stuff. Why do you think I'm rewriting Thick as Thieves? Because I don't feel the original was good enough (and quite frankly Thick as Thieves sounds less like a musical than plain old Thieves -_-*). ANYWAYS, Chrono Cross is a nice fandom if you know what you're looking for. There's a lot of good fics- yaoi and non-yaoi alike.

~Dixxy