Flash Fiction Friday prompt 201: Comedian's Night. Words: 335
It was Gordon's cackling that woke him.
Consciousness wasn't coming quickly, though, and Scott must have zoned in and out a couple of times as the conversation – whatever it was – ebbed and flowed around him.
'What is this? Comedian's night?'
'Oh no, I am deadly serious.'
'Deadly sounds good to me.'
Scott heard Gordon swallow, and he really tried to open his eyes, but they were being stubborn.
'Oh, er…hahaha, good one. Now who's the comedian, hahaha?'
'Oh no, this time I'm the one being deadly serious.'
There was the unmistakable sound of a foot connecting with a soft body and a wheezing from his brother.
'Ok, ok. I'm being honest. If you want a decent ransom you need to release Scott. He's the only one who can access that kind of money.'
'No funny business?'
'No funny business, scouts' honour.'
The footsteps receded and a door clanged shut. Gordon's foot nudged him.
'I know you're awake, Scott.'
Scott opened an eye. It did not open easily which told him almost as much as the aches did. He'd taken a beating at some point. As he caught sight of the state of Gordon Scott realised he wasn't the only one.
'Wha-what are you playing at, Gordon?'
'They've sent a ransom vid home.'
'And? Why are you trying to get me released without yourself?'
'They're asking too much, I was being honest, you are the only one who can get that kind of money together in short notice.'
'Gordon…'
'Scotty…'
'Gordon, I know what you're up to and while I appreciate it, I'm not going anywhere.'
Gordon shifted so that Scott could look him in the eye without having to contort his already bruised body. He broke out into a grin of such pure mischief that Scott knew he'd been right. His grin was feral in return.
His brother, consummate professional that he was, had been buying them time. Sure enough, not five minutes later the room shook to an explosion that said rescue was here.