This fic is a special celebration for reaching 250+ on Twitter, 750+ on Tumblr, and for my one-year anniversary in this fandom, which falls on today too!
The first thing Techno thought upon being pushed into an alleyway by a group of masked men, was that he would be missing the deadline for his literary analysis essay tonight.
Which probably shouldn't be his biggest concern. Not when there was a bag being pulled over his face, zip ties being fastened around his wrists so his arms would stay locked behind his back, and he was being unceremoniously shoved into a tight space he could only assume to be the trunk of a car going by how the surface pressed against his cheek started vibrating with the sound of an engine. Clearly, he was being kidnapped.
But being kidnapped would probably also be a valid argument to get an extension on that deadline?
(Skeppy often told him he was way too worried about his grades. Techno never responded with much more than an evasive shrug, because that beat admitting he didn't have much going for himself aside from those good grades to begin with)
Techno had hoped for a quiet night: get through his shift at the 7-11 he worked at part-time to be able to afford his shitty apartment. Go home and eat a shitty frozen dinner that never warmed all the way through in his shitty microwave which always left the peas all mushy and cold in the middle. Then finish his essay, plus the creative writing assignment he'd been postponing for three weeks, and study for midterms. Head to bed early because he had class in the morning.
Nowhere in his plans had he allotted time for "get abducted and held hostage for a ransom that will never be paid".
Because that's what Techno had to assume this was. A hostage situation. If these guys wanted to mug him, they could have just done that in the alleyway. Same if they wanted to kill him for whatever reason, there were probably plenty of garbage bins back there just perfectly Techno-sized if they needed to get rid of his body. The fact that they were taking him to a secondary location meant they wanted something from him, most likely money.
Too bad Techno didn't have any to offer.
The car stopped, the sudden halt in momentum jostling Techno in the trunk. He couldn't see anything, but he heard the doors open and all three men step out. Two of them went away from the car, but the last came round and opened the boot lid. They grabbed him by his elbow and dragged him out. Techno was pretty sure he would have fallen flat on his face if it weren't for their hold on him, pushing him onto his feet. Walking without having a clue where he was going was unnerving, he didn't have to go far before he was being pushed into a chair though. More zip ties were used to tie his ankles to the steel legs.
Techno almost wanted to ask why they thought that was necessary. It wasn't like he was planning to just get up and walk away.
The bag was pulled from his head, leaving Techno to blink into harsh fluorescent lights. His glasses were half-askew on his face which meant parts of his vision were blurred. As it cleared, he could see the men who had kidnapped him. One of them had taken a position on the other side of the room - some sort of warehouse from what Techno could tell - fingers tapping away at the keyboard of a laptop open in front of them. Techno's attention was pulled towards the other two rather quickly.
Because the first was holding a camera and positioning it on a tripod so it would be pointing squarely at his face. Techno scowled a little, he hated having his picture taken on the best of days (and this was not his best day by a long shot). The other was holding a gun.
And oh okay… that's bad.
"Tell me when the show can start," the man with the gun said. He pulled his mask down a little, revealing a chin full of stubble and a vicious smirk. "We want daddy to watch the entire thing."
"Setting up the connection will take a tick," laptop guy answered, "but he'll answer immediately. I made clear how urgent it was."
"I hope so. I'm sure he'll come running once he finds out his precious son's in danger."
Son? Techno's eyes widened, the realization dawning on him.
Gun man turned back towards him. "Okay Soot, this is what we're going to do. You'll smile nice and wide for the camera and keep your damn mouth shut, if you play by the rules nobody has to get hurt, got it?"
Techno clenched his bound hands into fists behind him. "You got the wrong person."
Not the answer they were looking for, clearly. "What?"
"Whoever you think I am, I'm not. And I don't know who you're trying to get in touch with, but I can assure you they don't give a crap about me, so whatever you want-"
The side of the gun hit his cheek, hard. Techno was sure it had knocked one of his teeth right out, but only a second later he realized the blood flooding his mouth was from a split lip. He coughed, spitting it onto the ground. His glasses were on the floor too, knocked off.
The man who had smacked him grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging him forwards and almost bodily lifting him out of the chair if it weren't for the fact Techno was still tied to it.
"Listen here, you little bastard! I'm not falling for any of your stupid tricks so you better cut that shit out right now!" They were so close to him he could smell their terrible breath. Techno wanted to gag. When they let go, the chair almost toppled over.
"We're good to go," tripod guy cut in, giving his cohorts a thumbs up.
Laptop guy nodded too. "Jup, he's watching. Damn, he's real pissed off already."
Their leader smirked, straightening his jacket. "Good."
He turned around to face the camera. From where Techno was sitting, he knew he would be partly out-of-frame while his captor addressed whoever it was on the other end.
"Mister Craft, how gracious of you to join us this evening. You do have my sincere apologies we couldn't meet again under better circumstances, but going by how our last encounter ended I don't think you'd have appreciated my getting back in touch. And you do know how I'd hate to encroach on your valuable time.
Thing is, you still got something of mine, Craft. And until you return it to me, I just won't be able to rest easy. I know parting with it won't be great for you, but I've got something here to… encourage you to make the right choice, let's put it that way."
They finally stepped aside, making sure the feed would be able to pick up on Techno in his full glory, blood dripping from his chin and all. Techno tried to put his eyes anywhere but on the lens.
"You've got something of mine and now, I've got something of yours too. I propose we come to a quick arrangement that suits us both." Their fingers curled into Techno's hair, craning his neck to the side when they put the gun to his temple. "Your son for my flash drive. Sound fair?"
A few seconds of tense silence. The man behind the laptop shrugged, awkward. "He ain't saying anything, boss."
"Playing coy?" Gun guy let go. "Fine, we can give you some time to think about it. But for every five minutes of you making us wait, little songbird here loses a finger."
And while Techno had been content letting this charade run its course for a while, he did draw the line at permanent disfigurement.
"He's not going to answer, because I'm not his kid."
The man rounded on him, even angrier now. Getting no response to their threats seemed to be riling them up, and Techno barely felt the heart stall in his chest. "I told you to shut up!"
"Well you should be thanking me, I'm saving you a lot of time."
They growled and backhanded him again. The blow struck him across the temple this time, pain bursting behind Techno's eyelids like constellations. He was blinded by it for a moment, not really registering the words of venom being spat into his face.
It also meant he didn't even realize the door had burst open.
He only noticed that the man who had been wielding the gun cursed and turned on his heels, disappearing out of sight. Dully - not really on the forefront of his mind with all else going on - Techno thought them a coward. Whoever had entered dealt with the man at the laptop first, then in a blur of motion had come close enough to raise the baseball bat they were holding and bring it down on Tripod guy in one fell swoop. The sound of crushing bone was terrible.
Techno was still shaking the dazed feeling of what was probably a concussion going by the throbbing of the wound spilling blood all over his shoulder when they met eyes.
"You're not my son," his savior said.
"Nope." Techno nodded towards the guy lying unconscious at his feet. "That's what I've been trying to tell these clowns too."
"Well, that's gonna be a problem…" They lowered the baseball bat, streaked with blood. "You do look exactly like Wil though, if I didn't know any better I'd say you two were twins."
"That explains a lot."
"You don't seem overly concerned?" There was almost humor there, as if they were amused at his disposition.
Techno spared a thought for the image he must make, tied to the chair and covered in his own blood and probably all gross from not having taken a shower after his shift. Any sane person would surely be a cowering mess by now, fearing for their life.
Well, not him.
Techno quirked a lip. "Sorry to disappoint."
The man tilted his head in wonder, then shook it. He snapped out of it almost instantly, probably noticing the state Techno was in. "Oh crap! Sorry, I didn't- Are you alright, mate?" He came around and knelt down. The sound of a swiss blade being opened was heard before Techno felt the zip ties fall away. "Bit of a silly question, I know."
"I'm fine," Techno said, rubbing his wrists.
The man went to pick up his glasses and handed them to him. They miraculously hadn't been cracked in the ordeal. "My name is Phil Craft. The men who took you did so mistaking you for my son, Wilbur."
Techno licked his lips, tasting the iron tang on them. "You're the angel of death?"
"They're still using that moniker?" Phil laughed a little, clearly embarrassed.
"You're… you're a lot shorter than you seem on the mug shot."
"I know, I get that a lot." While talking, Phil had gone over to the laptop. After typing in a few short commands, he glanced at Techno past the screen. "I'm notifying my crew about the situation. We can get you patched up at the den before-"
"Woah, hold up." Techno got up, ignoring his legs feeling like jelly. Might be the adrenaline was wearing off after all. "What do you mean 'we'? I'm going home."
Phil's lips pressed together, an apologetic attempt at a smile. "Look, I know you're probably confused as to what's going on right now, and I promise I can explain everything once we're safe again. But there are still people after us."
"No, you. They're after you. I don't have anything to do with this, we've established this."
"And you think Rainer Black cares?" Phil closed the laptop, promptly throwing it on the ground so he could step on it and destroy the device. "They know where you live, they know what route you take getting from your apartment to your school or work or whatever you do. They'll be able to track you down if they want to. And they're going to want to, you've seen Rainer's face. You already know too much, and what with Wilbur still gone..."
Techno knew that was probably true. That didn't mean he hated the situation any less.
"Like it or not," Phil said grimly. "Right now, I'm your best shot at sorting out this mess and making it out in one piece. So, are you going to trust me?"
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