A/N Oh my goodness guys! I feel like I've been saying that a lot, but I'm so happy with all of the reviews I've gotten. You are all so encouraging—and I hope you all know how wonderful you are!
Again, I have to apologize for how late this chapter has been updated. I had a busy last few months of school—consisting of a track season, a final portfolio for my English class, Exams, and applying for a scholarship my school offered. I've been able to finally get some work done on this chapter now that school's out and my just as busy summer schedule has come to a brief standstill, and I hope it has been worth the wait.
So, from the marvelous mind of one of my wonderful reviewers—Tigger, I have decided to begin this chapter with a flashback of sorts through Jack's point of view (even though, as you know, this story is told in third person. And from another marvelous mind of another one of my wonderful reviewers, I have decided to give a recap at the beginning of each chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form, own Kickin' it.
A short recap of chapter six: Kim found out that the guard was none other than her best friend, Grace, and she managed to convince Grace to help Jack. While in the process of removing the arrow, they discovered miscellaneous wounds all over Jack's torso, spurring her curiosity. Kim decides to finish the mission on her own, allowing Grace to get Jack and the other boys to safety away from the President's Estate. She successfully breaks in to the vault, to find that the only object within the vault is a silver disk, which she steals. Kim then successfully exits the estate. After this, the President finds out that his vault has been robbed, and kills the head of defense.
"Now I'm only gonna ask this one more time." The guard told Jack, leaning so close that he could distinctly smell the alcohol that coated his tongue, and see each individual hair protruding from a mole on the corner of his nose. "Where are you hiding the kids?" Jack glared up at the boy looming above him. He still couldn't understand how someone so young could learn how to be so cruel.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He spat. A small grin danced on Frank's—that was the guard's name—lips as he played with the knife in his hands, twisting the worn, blackened hilt between his fingers. There was a hungry glint in his eyes, allowing the smallest twinge of fear to make its way into Jack's stomach. He had seen what Frank had done to Lucy only a few hours ago, could still see the crimson on his blade, even though it had long been cleaned. A part of Jack wondered why no one had killed him yet like they so eagerly killed the six year old girl who curiously followed him. The other part knew exactly why no one had taken his life. They needed information, and would use any method to obtain it. Once he was no longer of any use to any of them—then, he would be killed. But for now he would live, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be long until he was wishing for death.
"I was hoping you would say that." Frank smiled again, "I would be lying if I said I'm not going to enjoy this, Jackie." The word struck him with unusual force. Lucy called him that. She screamed it as the blood seeped from her wound, as the life slowly left her. Jackie! Jackie help me. Help me! Lucy's voice lingered in his mind.
Jack was shaken back into reality when the cold metal blade slid across his bare chest, leaving a scarlet trail of blood. He bit back a yelp, and strained against the leather straps holding his arms, legs, and head to a roughly carved stone slab. Frank only waited a moment to drag the knife across his chest for a second, then a third, and a fourth time—until the pain was so great that Jack couldn't concentrate enough to count.
"I know I said I'd only ask one more time, but this game is just so fun that I don't think I want to stop." Frank's voice was cool, each word precise. "where are they?" Jack shook his head, laughing hoarsely.
"You're going to have to try harder than that to get to me, Frank." He hissed, his teeth gritted tightly. Through blurred vision, Jack watched as Frank's jaw tightened, the smile no longer painted on his face. A victory—no matter how small—he reminded himself, would have to be enough to lift his spirits and harden his resolve.
"I guess we'll just have to find a stronger form of persuasion, won't we?" And just as quickly, the smile had returned. Jack listened as Frank's footsteps receded from the table to some other part of the room. He tried turning his head, but stopped when he heard the roaring of a fire on his left side, and dread joined the fear deep in his gut. He dared not ask what Frank had planned—not that Frank would tell him anyway. Jack tried holding his breath to slow his beating heart. He clenched his fists to disguise the shaking—for he had a feeling he knew what this new form of persuasion was.
"Get him on his feet." he heard Frank bark the command over the blood rushing in and out of his ears at an ever quickening rhythm. Get yourself together, Jack. Two other guards who had been standing at attention on either side of the door roughly unbuckled the leather straps holding Jack to the stone and hauled him up to face Frank yet again. Jack took a moment to scan his surroundings—see if there were any easy exits. Aside from the single door on the far wall, the room was made entirely of cement. He assumed he was somewhere in the President's estate, but the extent of knowledge as to his whereabouts stopped there. The space was fairly small—barely stretching ten feet by ten feet yet despite how easy it could be to cross the room and slip out of the door, Jack knew his chances of escape were slim. He was already in a weakened state, and there were bound to be more of the Black Dragons waiting outside.
The two Black Dragons holding Jack on his feet slipped his hands into another pair of restraints hanging from the ceiling, leaving his midsection entirely unguarded. Jack kept eyeing the small rusted furnace and the fire that blazed hungrily within. His heart beat so heavily that he feared it would burst from his chest at any moment. He struggled against the new form of binding, tugging the cuffs downwards from the ceiling, but to no avail. He felt sick as Frank moved to the furnace and removed an iron band from the flames, the sweat gathering on his forehead as the boy turned to face him. Jack tried his best to hide the suffocating terror that washed over him as Frank inched closer and closer.
"One last chance to spill, Jackie." Frank sneered, jutting the hot piece of metal forward, causing Jack to flinch back. "It's now or never." Jack forced himself to maintain eye contact as Frank spoke, but did nothing else. He kept his lips sealed shut. The boy laughed sharply as he took another step towards Jack, suspended and helpless.
"Keep him still, boys." The two Black Dragons who had tied Jack to the ceiling stepped forward and grabbed his arms. Jack did nothing to struggle, only glared ahead, never breaking eye contact with Frank. He could feel the hot blood trickling down from the fresh cuts on his torso, and cringed at the thought of the hot metal on his open wounds. Frank took another step, the two of them only inches apart. Frank leaned forward, the piece of hot iron still firmly grasped in his leather-gloved hand. He leaned forward, at the same time bringing the rod closer and closer to Jack's lower stomach.
"I wanna hear you scream, Jackie." The words were whispered into his ear as Frank pressed the metal onto Jack's torso. Jack clenched his teeth, breathing heavily as he was nearly blinded by the burning pain. Everything seemed blurred, and he realized there were tears in his eyes. He struggled against the restraints, against the Black Dragons holding him in place, his reason impaired by the agony coursing through his veins. He was breathing heavily, panting with exhaustion, Frank no longer in his vision. But Jack could still hear him as he whispered into his ear.
"Scream like that little girl. Like Lucy." Frank's voice was like a needle, creating a seam that tied together the layers of torment, reminding him there was no escape. Jack felt the strength slowly draining from his bones, replaced by a sense of utter hopelessness. He didn't notice when one of the guards previously holding Jack still moved to grab a second rod. He only heard Frank's voice.
"Scream, Jackie. Scream." He wasn't sure if it was after the third or the fourth mark that the scream finally tore from Jack's throat. Nor was he sure whether it was after the hot iron rods were replaced with a bullwhip or when the bullwhip was replaced with iron knuckles on fists that beat him like he was a piece of meat that he couldn't take it anymore, and he finally reached his breaking point, the screams fading to sobs of a grief so strong he thought the crying could never stop. But eventually, after the two guards picked up his limp, defeated body before he could crumple to the ground, after he was reattached to the stone slab and left alone in the dark room, his crying faded to a restless sleep.
Kim watched in concern as Jack thrashed in his sleep, probably suffering from yet another of his annual nightmares. For the past few nights, Jack had started acting in the same manner as he had the first time she saw him sleeping while they were waiting to raid the estate. The first night after they returned from the Estate, Jack grabbed Kim's arm so hard in his sleep that a bruise had begun to form the next morning. She was glad she still wore her leather jacket and could conceal the blue and purple patch on her arm from the others. From how he acted, Kim had a feeling Jack would rather keep his nightmares a secret, or at least, thought of them as little importance. Of course, that feeling did little to keep the curiosity at bay.
The group had arrived back to what Jack called "The Warehouse" a few days earlier after Kim had met up with them in the same building where they had camped out for the day before entering the President's Estate. Jack had regained consciousness before Kim had gotten back, but he still had trouble walking on his own, so the four of them alternated serving as support as they made their way back to the Warehouse. When they finally reached the Warehouse at around one in the morning, Jerry showed Kim to the corner where most of the older kids slept and got her a cot while she and Milton helped Jack onto one of the other cots. After Milton and Eddie had left to grab their own cots, Jack gently grabbed Kim's hand and held it for a moment between his. The breath caught in Kim's throat as Jack began to speak.
"Thanks," he started, the sleep already settling in his voice, "thanks for what you did today, Blond—Kim." A smile crept across his lips as he let his hands fall back on the bed and his eyes fluttered closed. She watched for a moment as his breathing evened, then slipped under the blankets laid meticulously on her own cot, and stared at the ceiling until everyone around her was asleep as well. But slumber would not hold her in its grasp. So she stayed awake, watching, listening; thinking.
The next two nights were much of the same. Waiting for sleep to take her, reaching out to grab the sparkling tendrils of dreams, and watching as they drew further and further from her fingertips. So when Jack's nightmares started, she wasn't bothered. He didn't wake her up, for she had never fallen asleep. She still debated whether or not she should wake him when the nightmares started—whether it would help, whether it was even her place to help him, of if she even knew how. So she simply watched as Jack suffered from some horror that only he knew.
Kim had pushed herself to a sitting position after everyone had fallen asleep, fingering the pendant she had slipped from her neck, trying to remember her mother, her grandfather, her aunts and uncles. With every passing day they drifted further and further away, like the sleep she so desperately longed to find. The sleep, she could see Jack so desperately wanted to escape. Kim manipulated the locket so the light of the moon streaming in from windows would catch on its silver surface.
Kim heard a choked gasp from Jack's direction and turned to see his pale figure bolt upright. He ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair. She never understood why some people would sit up after they woke from a bad dream. Whenever Kim had a nightmare her eyes would snap open, and she'd realize it was just a dream, and while her eyes might stay open for a few minutes, still somewhat afraid the dream would somehow change to reality, she would eventually fall asleep again. The terror in Jack's eyes assured Kim he probably wouldn't be falling back asleep that night.
"Are you alright?" Kim had finally mustered the courage to ask the question she had been dying to for the past few nights. He turned abruptly, clearly startled someone else was still awake at one in the morning. Jack gave a small nod.
"Yeah. Just bad dreams. That's all." It was Kim's turn to nod. She was hoping he'd tell her more, what the nightmares were about, why he had them every single night. Of course, she wasn't truly expecting him to tell her anything. The two of them still barely knew each other. Then again, maybe she didn't want to know what sort of dreams troubled Jack. She still couldn't get the images of the scars all over Jack's back and chest out of her head.
"I—I didn't wake you, did I?" Kim wasn't sure whether Jack was concerned or scared when he asked the question. She shook her head.
"I've had trouble sleeping. Been awake all night." She gave a small smile, trying to abate Jack's look, now definitely one of concern rather than fear.
"You need your sleep, Blondie. Can't be your feisty self without sleep." Kim rolled her eyes, her arms naturally crossing over her chest in annoyance. Jack grinned. "But seriously, one of us needs to be at least somewhat aware tomorrow. With the meeting and all." The meeting. She had almost forgotten about the meeting. The members of the Warehouse held a meeting once every month to discuss their plans and any news that had surfaced in the previous weeks. Of course, when a pressing matter came up, they held a meeting right away, rather than waiting however long they had to wait to hold another meeting. And apparently Kim was defined as a pressing matter.
Jack told her she had nothing to worry about—the meeting would largely focus on how the robbery of the estate went. New members to the warehouse were normally subjects of regularly scheduled meetings, and they were only discussing Kim since she had also played a large role in the robbing of the estate. Not to mention she saved Jack's life.
"My turn to keep watch." Jack assured her, then added, "I'll make sure a monster doesn't eat you. Now go to sleep." Kim nodded, pushing herself back under the wool blanket on her cot. She was surprised how much safer she felt with Jack watching over her. Her eyes fluttered close, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt peace when she drifted further and further away from reality and into the dark shelters of slumber.
Kim awoke the next morning to Jack's warm hand on her shoulder. She groaned, burying herself even further under her covers, only realizing the consequences of her insomnia when she had finally gotten some sleep. I guess neither of us are going to be very aware this for the meeting. Kim grumbled internally as she reluctantly opened one of her eyes and fixated her gaze on Jack's snickering face. Why doesn't he pick on his other friends. Kim grumbled again. Then a second after the thought it, Kim realized what she had said. Friends. Was Jack her friend? Yes. She decided. He's my friend. Even if they barely knew each other.
"Do you find everything I do amusing?" Kim croaked, shooting him the most intimidating glare she could muster that early in the morning. Jack had managed to stop laughing, but the teasing grin had not yet been wiped from his face. Kim groaned again as she pushed herself out of the nest of blankets. The pale silver light that had been streaming through the windows the night before had shifted to the warm golden glow of the rising sun, forming a halo of light around Jack's silhouette. The two of them sat for a few seconds in silence, until Jack rose to his feet, holding out a hand to help Kim. She took it, his fingers rough against hers. Again, the warm breathtaking sensation rushed through her veins. She forgot to breathe for a second, as his eyes met hers like they always seemed to do. Though she probably would never admit it, Kim relished the little moments when Jack touched her, those few seconds when they sat in silence, how heavily her heart beat in her chest when he smiled at her, when their eyes met, and neither he nor she dared to look away.
"The meeting's in about an hour." Jack told Kim, offering her the new set of clothes he had been holding in his other hand. Kim gave him a look. "Just wear them." She sighed, but grabbed the clothes anyway, heading over to the girls' bathrooms. The Warehouse used to be an exercise facility before the plague, so it served as a perfect place, both for accommodation, and for training new members. Most of the kids slept in the gym, on a combination of yoga mats and cots, which are removed after everyone is awake. Aside from meals and sleeping, the members of the warehouse go their separate ways during the day. The morning after they arrived, Jack gave Kim a tour of the place, leading her through the weaponry, the combat training centers, the kitchen, and the office where the leader's council met for their monthly meetings. Of course, even after the tour the only place Kim could manage to go without immediately getting lost was the girl's bathroom.
Reaching the bathroom, Kim found an empty shower stall near the back and slid quietly behind the curtain, relieved that no one else was around. Even though most of the kids at the warehouse welcomed her presence, Kim still couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong. As she started to peel the sweat-caked garments from her grimy skin, and stepped under the hot stream of water, Kim's mind wandered back to the scars that scattered across Jack's torso. How he woke up gasping for breath every single night. And Jack was not the only one who suffered from nightmares. The little children would wake up screaming for their parents—their parents who died before the children even knew what parents really were. Sure, her parents died. Her whole family died from the plague, but after the plague was finally over, and the last dead body was burned, and the dank scent of sickness no longer hung in the air, Kim was not left to starve. She was given a warm home, food, friends. None of the pain she felt could ever compare to the suffering the residents of the warehouse had gone through. No, she didn't belong. Not yet.
After the last bit of dirt had washed from her golden locks, and the mirrors had long since fogged with steam, Kim switched off the water with her wrinkled fingers. She then grabbed the set of clothes Jack had given her and slipped them on, and tied her hair in a bun on the top of her head. Stepping out from behind the shower curtain, Kim was able to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. The black sweater Jack gave her hung loose on her chest contrasting the pair of jeans that hugged her figure. Dark circles had taken their place beneath her bloodshot eyes. Unlike most of the other girls that worked on the Estate, Kim refused to wear makeup. Still, she wondered if she should break her vow of staying true to one's natural and inner beauty to conceal the lack of sleep that was so obvious in her expression. Deciding against it, Kim made her way out of the bathroom and towards the meeting hall—hoping, but not expecting, that she wouldn't get lost.
A/N: Okay guys. So I was originally going to add another scene to this chapter, but I realized that this extra scene was much of the reason why I have been taking so long. I thought you would appreciate reading this chapter right now, and getting the extra scene in the next chapter, than waiting for another few weeks for me to get my thoughts together, and my creative juices flowing to write the extra scene (as the extra scene would have been quite long.) I'll be going to a writing camp next week, so perhaps I'll find some inspiration. Of course, your reviews are probably the most inspirational of all.
Also, on the questions about the necklaces—fear not, all will be explained in due time. They do have quite a bit of significance as the plot progresses, might I add. Feel free to guess their purpose, and if you guess right, I'll be sure to message you. In addition, I realized while looking over my previous chapters on fanfiction that the dividers I added in between different point of views (Kim's vs. Jack's) were not showing up. I apologize it that confused any of you, and I am trying a different kind of divider this time. Let me know if you guys can see these.
Again, thanks for everyone who has stuck by me faithfully in these huge gaps between chapters (I am sooooo sorry for that, might I add for the millionth time…).
Don't forget to read and review!
Until next time.