Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Kidnapping, Threats, Threesome, Non-Con, etc.

After an hour or so, Seth had convinced himself that the man wasn't going to return anytime soon. Slowly, with an almost painful amount of effort, he crawled to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. His legs were slick and sticky with blood and with every step he could feel him on him, in him. All he wanted was to be clean. A steady stream of tears running down his face now, he practically fell into the shower trying to turn it on.

Soon enough, boiling hot water started gushing from the faucet, leaving his skin in an uncomfortable, perpetual burning state. But it was nothing compared to the hole in his heart. As cheesy as it may have sounded, it felt as if someone had taken a pile driver and set it against his heart, attempting to blow a hole in the muscle. And it worked. Seth had never felt weaker, more vulnerable. He felt utterly sick to his stomach.

Only a few seconds under the spray, his legs crumpled underneath him and he hit the marble hard. Flares of white-hot pain shot up his spine and caused colorful sparks to dance before his eyes. For a second, he worried that he had broken his tail bone. Luckily, the pain soon melted away, and a nasty bruise started to form in its stead. The man in the hotel room adjacent to theirs knocked on the wall and told him to quiet down. He wanted to scream, but didn't.

It wouldn't do him any good to scream, anyhow. He had learned his lesson real fast. If he screamed, it would lead to more vicious attacks. Not that anything could be worse than what he had been forced to endure mere hours earlier. He would rather endure another whipping to his feet then have to experience the hell that he had endured a second time around. He bit his bottom lip, not even wanting to look at his feet right now.

Pink water continued to flow down the drain, undisturbed. When it finally ran clean, Seth grabbed onto the bar on the shower wall and hoisted himself up. He took the complementary bar of soap and rubbed it all over his body, just wanting to be rid of the man's awful stench. But it didn't matter how hard he scrubbed. He could still feel the hands all over him. He could still feel the man inside of him. And he was scared that that would never go away.

Unable to bear being in the shower for a moment longer, he slid out into the cool bathroom and wrapped himself in a fluffy white bathrobe, also complements of the hotel. It was kinda funny, how the hotel left so much shit around, "on them", and none of it could make him feel any better. He slid down the wall, taking his phone and dialing the first number he could think of. In fact, it was the only number he could think of. Dean Ambrose.

"Hello?" Dean asked. He sounded tired, but he tried to cover it up, knowing that it was Seth on the line. "Seth, baby, is that you?" He asked, his voice hopeful.

Seth's heart fluttered in his chest, but his throat was too dry and his chest too tight to answer.

"Seth, baby, are you there? Is that even you, Seth? If this is some bastard that's taken Seth's phone, then the joke isn't funny." Dean said. The hopeful tone had melted over into angst-filled hatred.

Still, Seth couldn't answer. Even if he wanted to answer, he couldn't.

"Jokes up, asshole. Don't even think about calling this number again." Dean ended with a flamboyant string of curses, before he ended the call in a huff.

The tears returned now, hot and heavy. Seth didn't even try and stop them. Did he deserve this? After all, he had to have known. Dean and Roman couldn't love, or want, someone like him. He was too frantic, too nervous, like a deer caught in the headlights. He was always waiting for the other shoe to fall. Dean and Roman deserved a better submissive then someone like that. Maybe they had already found one.

But just as he allowed it to really get to him, he heard the door to the main hotel room swing open. The man lumbered inside, dropping several bags onto the floor. Seth's heart clenched in his chest. He drew his knees into his chest, holding himself. Dean and Roman didn't want him. They didn't love him anymore, and they certainly wouldn't love him after they found out about this. The only one that loved him was this monster.

"Seth? Seth? Where are you?" The man called. He looked around, probably real afraid that Seth had run off or something. But that wouldn't have been the safe thing to do.

"I'm in the bathroom, sir. I was just… I was just taking a shower, that's all." Seth whispered. The man heard him, however. He knocked on the door. "The door is locked."

Silence. A painfully long silence. "And why, pray tell, is the door locked? Do you have something to hide from me, Sethie?" He wasn't calm anymore. His tone was dark, almost evil.

Seth swallowed hard. "No. No, of course not sir. I don't have anything to hide from you."

Immediately, the tone lightened. "Well, then, why don't you come out and see what I bought for you."

Like hell. Seth thought to himself. I'd rather rot in this bathroom, thank you very much. "I'm feeling a little sick. I think I caught the stomach bug that's going around."

"What did I tell you about lying, Sethie?" The man purred, his voice darkening again. "You're not very good at it."

"I don't -,"

"You will be out here in five minutes, Sethie. I'm not a patient man. Don't keep me waiting."

Seth squeezed his eyes closed and balled his hands into fists, his nails cutting crescents into the pale skin there. Constantly, he told himself that he wouldn't get up. He would stay in that bathroom forever if he had to. But something deep inside of him told him that that would be a mistake. If he chose to stay in that bathroom, then he would die in there. There was no doubt in his mind that that man would kill him if he disobeyed.

So he climbed to his feet, feeling the pain tearing at his backside. The man was standing inside of the hotel room, smiling darkly at him as Seth walked over and sat down on the bed. Before his butt hit the mattress, the man was on him. He tore the front of Seth's robe opened and forced it off of him. Seth did his best to maintain his composure, but it was difficult. He'd never felt filthier than when the man's eyes raked over his body.

"That's a good boy. And you look so much better naked anyhow." He smiled lecherously. "I think that you should be naked in my presence from now on. Always. And if you're not…" he cracked the whip against the bed menacingly.

"I don't, I…." Seth sobbed brokenly. He felt so open, so vulnerable, being naked in his presence. "Please, give me my robe back. It's cold in here. Please…"

The whip bit across his back and Seth screamed, only to have the man's hand stuffed into his mouth. He choked on the fingers, barely able to breath. "I don't fucking care if you're cold. Now shut your mouth and listen up."

He opened up the bag full of items that he had just bought. Seth's heart thudded in his chest, his back burning and bleeding profusely. The man didn't seem to care, however. He took the first item out. It was a dark blue dildo, which had a cock ring attached. The second item was a pair of fluffy blue handcuffs, which matched the dildo. Seth stopped paying attention after that. All of those items disgusted him.

"What do you think? I figured blue was a rather neutral color, so you would like it. Plus, it's far from the traditional pink." He gushed as if Seth would actually like that sort of stuff. Or, at least, like it with a monster like him.

But Seth lied. He lied because he had to. He had no other choice, if he wanted to keep his body intact. "I love them. They're all… perfect." He spat the last word out, trying not to choke on it.

The man's lips twisted into a sinful smirk. "What do you say we try them out tonight? We don't have to leave the hotel until tomorrow afternoon, so we can play all night."

Seth barely bit back a sob as the man started to climb over him, his bleeding back brushing against the blankets. "I'm not sure…"

Fingers knotted painfully in his two-toned hair. He cried out in pain. "What was that?"

"It sounds great!" Seth lied. And as the monster closed the distance between their mouths, he knew he was in for a long, painful night.

"You okay, Phil? You seem a little stiff tonight." Chris offered as he tenderly worked the kinks out of Phil's neck. The ravenette hummed silently, not sure if he should speak or not.

"Can I ask you a question, Chris?" Phil tilted his head back just far enough to be able to look into the blond's eyes. The blue orbs were wide, filled with love and adoration for the straight-edge star.

"Of course, Philly. You know that you can tell me anything, don't you?" He offered reassuringly. "Tell me what's on your mind." He lay back, pulling Phil around so that the younger man's head rested on his stomach.

Phil looked uncertain for a minute, before he finally decided to push ahead. "It's about Seth."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Seth, as in, Seth Rollins? Like, from The Shield."

Phil nodded. "The same." Immediately, Chris started to get uncomfortable. "I want you to keep an open mind."

"Do you have any idea what those animals are doing to the roster, Phil? And your manager, who supposedly has your best interest at heart, is the one that let them loose! What do you mean 'keep an open mind'?"

"I think he's in trouble. And… I think that I'm in trouble too." Phil confessed meekly, hating to sound weak.

Quickly, Chris switched back into defensive mode. His arm wound around Phil's body, holding him tight. "You know that I would never let anyone hurt you. And if Seth means that much to you…"

Phil smiled softly. "I haven't even told you what his problem is yet."

"Doesn't matter. You're worried about him, so I'll watch out for him." Chris answered. "What is his problem?"

"He's been getting these really threatmantic letters from some crazy stalker that wants to take him from Dean and Roman, and I'm pretty sure that it worked. I don't see them together and Roman's been more violent recently."

"Where the hell did you come up with 'threatmantic'? And have you been receiving letters like this too?"

Chris looked like he was ready to tear someone's head off. It was a good thing that Phil shook his head. "Not exactly. And threatmantic means threatening and romantic, bastard." He took out a piece of paper, "This is the letter."

It read:

I find it almost amusing that you think that you can stand alone against such a powerful force, little man. You're nothing more than the damsel in distress, tied down to the railroad tracks. I'm the train. And if you get in my way, there won't be any chance to revive you. You'll be road kill. And little Sethie here? Well, he'll certainly wish he was dead. But some people just aren't that lucky. So do both of you a favor and keep your nose out of our business. If not, well, I know how to make the walls of Jericho come tumbling down…