A/N: Hello! I'm sorry guys! I've been busy with school and some... family issues... but now I'm back! Yay! WARNING: SOON THINGS ARE GONNA GET REAL ANGSTY SO IF YOU DON'T LIKE TRUCKLOADS OF ANGST THEN I SUGGEST YOU DON'T READ THIS STORY... OR ANY OF MY OTHER STORIES FOR THAT MATTER... EXCEPT FOR MAYBE THE PARODIES... THOSE DON'T REALLY HAVE ANY ANGST...

*MyLittleRobin is my muse! She is amazing! :) *

Roach slowly began to wake up. It was weird. He didn't remember going to sleep, but he guessed he had just fallen asleep in Ghost's lap again. He did that pretty often nowadays. He had a headache and his head pounded loudly in his ears. His nose felt... odd... it ached. It felt similar to when he broke it in 8th grade. He used to get into a lot of fights at school. He opened his eyes and looked around the room. As he had predicted, it was his room. The lights were off and the door was shut.

They must've brought me back to my room after I fell asleep.

Then something occurred to him. He would have noticed if someone picked him up, even if he was sleeping. He tried to sit up and his heart leapt into his throat when he realized he couldn't. His eyes shot down to his wrists and farther down, to his ankles. In the dim light of the room, he could make out restraints that secured his wrists and ankles firmly to the bed. He tugged at them and they barely moved. Getting out of handcuffs was as easy as breathing for Roach, but he had never been able to get out of restraints. That's exactly why he hated them so much.

He was busy trying to get out of the restraints, then it hit him like a wall. John. He was here. On base. And no one else knew about him. Small snippets of the fight came back to him and he panicked. What if John was out there right now killing all of his friends? What if they were already dead? He desperately pulled at the restraints but the fact that his dominant arm was still broken and in a cast didn't help at all.

After several minutes of thrashing his wrists started to bleed but he didn't even notice, much less care. His only goal was getting out and saving his friends from John. He was panting and sweating with the effort of trying to get out. Soon his left wrist (his right wrist is still covered by the cast) was slick with blood and he stopped fighting, finally realizing it was pointless. He started to cry when the flashbacks returned.

Gary was once again with John, tied to a table in a large room full of torture weapons. Although this wasn't like the usual routine. Normally, John would pick a weapon and start interrogating. But now he was just sitting in a metal chair, staring intently at Gary. His face was completely expressionless so Gary had no clue what was on his mind. After what was by far the longest ten minutes of Gary's life, John spoke.

"I was thinking about what I should do with you today. I got bored of the usual routine, so I figured we'd try something new."

He didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Your brother... Charlie. We're gonna talk about him, seems on how you loved him so much." He grinned.

Gary's stomach lurched at the mere thought of it. He didn't want to talk about Charlie. Not ever.

John got up and strolled over to the table where Gary lay. Without warning he hopped up onto the table and straddled his hips, smirking when Gary gasped in surprise. He hadn't expected him to do that. John leaned forward over his torso, his elbows resting on either side of Gary's head.

"He screamed when I stabbed him, you know. He cried and screamed for you, waiting for big brother to come and save him. But that never happened, did it?" He sighed, tracing random patterns on Gary's bare chest.

Gary shivered and tugged at the steel chains securing him to the cold metal table. Tears welled in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He wanted to scream at John for ruining his life and killing his baby brother. He wanted to murder him slowly and cruelly, just as he had probably done to Charlie. And by God he would if the chance ever arose.

John fished around in his pocket for a moment, then held up a picture.

"You remember this one?"

The picture was a copy of the one he had found on the table the night Charlie was murdered. It was Charlie crying with a knife in his chest and John sitting beside him smiling as if he had just won the lottery.

Gary whimpered loudly through the gag in his mouth. The tears fell and landed on the table with an uncharacteristically loud plink.

John leaned forward a bit more and whispered in his ear, "You killed him, Gary. And no amount of avoiding the subject and acting as if it never happened will change that. He is dead because of YOU."

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Ghost sighed as he walked down the hall toward Roach's room. Archer had given him pain meds and wrapped his ribs, but he still felt kinda shitty. He knew Roach was fine, but for some reason he had a bad feeling. His gut was telling him something was wrong, and his gut had never been wrong before.

He knew Roach was in restraints and that only added to his worry. Roach hated restraints and Ghost knew he would probably throw a fit when he woke up. So he was just going to go check on Roach to make sure he was alright. He quickened his pace as his unease grew.

He reached the infirmary a few minutes later and quickly searched for Roach's room. His eyes landed on it and he went to the door, pulling out the key for it as he went. As he neared the door he heard something. It almost sounded like crying.

He hurriedly unlocked the door and the sight that met his eyes tore his heart into a million pieces. Roach was laying on the bed sniffling and crying, his cheeks wet with tears. His left wrist was smeared with blood, as were both of his ankles and there was blood on the sheets as well.

Ghost turned on the light and ran to Roach's side, immediately grabbing his hand to show him he was there, but Roach didn't seem to notice his presence. And he was still crying. Ghost was really worried now. He reached a hand up and patted Roach's cheek, wiping some of the tears away as he went.

"Roach, what's wrong? You're okay. Don't cry."

Roach flinched when he felt a hand on his face and moved as far away from him as his bonds would allow. This made Ghost really sad and confused. He didn't know how to deal with people who were freaked out, especially not when it was Roach. They were best friends and to see that Roach was scared of him tore him apart.

He thought about going to get Archer, but then he thought about what he would do. He would probably just sedate him and when Roach woke up, he would probably just freak out again. That wouldn't help anything, it would basically just be a repeat of the current situation.

"Shhh, Roach it's okay. Calm down, you're safe."

Roach still refused to look at him. Charlie's death replayed over and over again in his mind, getting bloodier and more horrifying each time. He couldn't make it stop. He thought he heard someone talking to him, but Charlie's screams of agony drowned it out. Maybe he was just imagining it.

"...Charlie... I-I'm so s-sorry..." He choked out between sobs.

Charlie? Who the hell was that? Ghost was now thoroughly confused. The only people in the room were him and Roach, so who was this Charlie person he was going on about? And why would Roach be sorry to him? He'd have to ask Roach about that later.

"Roach, look at me." He said, grabbing Roach's chin and turning it toward him.

Roach stared at him with sad brown eyes. It was really pitiful when Roach cried. His big brown eyes made him look like a character from an anime. A single tear slid over the bridge of his nose and he sniffled.

When he looked at Ghost, the image of his little brother's death disappeared, so he had calmed down a bit. He idly tugged at the restraints, still hating them with every fiber of his being. They sat silently for a few minutes, then Roach found his voice.

"W-when did you g-get here?" He asked, his voice wavering.

"Not long ago. You okay?" Ghost had decided not to talk about what he had just seen, knowing it would make Roach uncomfortable.

Roach shook his head. In truth he felt extremely vulnerable. He felt that because he was helpless, something bad was going to happen to him. He couldn't defend himself, not tied down like this. It made him very uneasy.

"Untie me." He demanded.

"Sorry man, I can't. You tried to kill a perimeter guard... for no reason. Why?"

Roach groaned, clearly frustrated at his lack of progress.

"He's not who he s-says he is."

"Oh really? Then who is he?" Ghost challenged.

Roach was quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

"A... a really bad person! He's fucking evil! He's not even a real perimeter guard!" Roach yelled, angrily tugging at the restraints.

Ghost reached over and covered his mouth.

"Shhh! Be quiet! It's like 3:00 in the morning, people are sleeping!"

Roach froze for a second, then bit his hand. Not that hard, but hard enough to draw blood. Ghost yelped in surprise and immediately recoiled, cradling a bloody finger.

"Owww...! Damn it Roach! Why would you do that?!" He whined as his ribs flared with pain because he had moved too fast.

"Well your hand shouldn't have been- what's wrong with you?"

Ghost curled in on himself, clutching at his ribs. It hurt to breathe.

"I thought I heard-" Archer stepped into the room and stopped mid-sentence when he saw Roach and Ghost.

"What the hell happened to you?!"

He went over to Ghost and grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey, look at me. Just breathe."

After a minute or so his breathing slowed a bit and Archer sent him to the rec room, saying he'd give him more pain meds and bandage his hand after he was done dealing with Roach. When Ghost was gone he turned to look at Roach. He saw the dried blood around his left wrist and ankles. He also noticed the tear stained cheeks, but didn't comment.

He sighed as he thought about how he was going to clean him up. He couldn't clean and bandage his wrist or ankles without undoing the restraints. He ran a hand through his hair and got a syringe ready. Roach needed sleep anyways, and he knew he wouldn't want to sleep on his own, not tied down like that.

He could already tell he was on edge as it was, so he decided to just sedate him for now and talk to him tomorrow. It was the middle of the night anyways, he should be asleep right now. Everyone else was. The only reason Archer was awake was because naturally, his room was by the infirmary so he could check on patients and get to them quickly if something was wrong. He was pulled from his thoughts when Roach spoke.

"Hey! W-what do you think you're doing?" He asked nervously, trying to sit up so he could see what Archer was doing.

"You need sleep. You look like shit."

He walked over to Roach and sat in the chair Ghost had vacated, bringing the syringe with him. Roach looked at it and frowned.

"I'm not tired." He protested as Archer rubbed his arm with an alcohol swab.

To be honest, he was too tired to do much else. But that didn't mean he liked the idea of being sedated... again...

"Well that's too bad, I'll see you in the morning."

He felt a prick in his arm and a few moments later a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He tried to fight it... but he was sooo tired... maybe he would just close his eyes for a minute... The second he did, he fell asleep. Vaguely, he felt Archer start undoing the restraints, then he was gone.

A/N: Hehehe... that was a long update, guys. So you better review! REVIEEEW! ;D