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

Seth blinked nervously, unable to breathe as the reality of the situation slowly started to become clear. The glass doors which led out onto the second floor of the hotel had shattered, a small bullet hole through the upper right pane destroying the ornate artistry. And then, in the hallway, stood the victim. Bloody hands clutched at a tattooed stomach, trying to staunch the violent flow of crimson, but to no avail. Startled hazel eyes stared into Seth's.

There was a bottle of diet Pepsi on the floor. When the bullet had been fired, it had fallen out of his hand and exploded on the deep, emerald carpet. Now, as the blood dribbled over his hands and spilled onto the floor, he tried to form words, but his tongue failed him. It was thick and swollen in his throat and he couldn't breathe, just like Seth couldn't breathe. In another second, he fell to his knees. The blood flowed in an endless stream, making Seth sick.

"Look at him. Look at what you've done to him." The man slurred, pleased with his actions. He slid the safety back onto the weapon and stuffed it down the back of his pants. "This is your fault."

Seth wanted to scream, but his voice broke off and trailed away. Instead, he settled on, "This… This isn't my fault. This is what you did to him! This is your fault! Why did you shoot him? Why didn't you shoot me?"

The man caught Seth's wrists in one strong hand. He didn't even realize that he had been lashing out against him until he nearly yanked them out of their sockets. "Since when do you think you can talk to me like that?"

"Ouch!" This time, Seth actually did scream. "Let go of me! Please, stop, that hurts! Let go of me!" He started to kick, but one harsh blow to Seth's knee stifled all protests. "F-Fuck." He stuttered, falling out of the man's arms.

"I'll teach you, you little bitch. I'll teach you to mess with me!" Taking Seth's nearly lifeless body up off of the ground, he tossed him over his back and held him there firmly, stifling all protests with vicious threats.

It didn't take long for them to make it back to their hotel room. Once there, the man entered the room, stepping over the fallen door, and threw Seth down on the bed. Seth writhed as the oriental shards pierced his skin, unable to twist one way or another without impaling them further into his skin. And while he writhed about, the man hurriedly started to undress himself. There was no time to waste now.

Tears leaked from the two-toned man's eyes as the man approached him, hurriedly stripping all of his clothes off as well. This was a bit more of a trying task, however, as Seth's body was covered in blood, glass, and sweat. As the cloth was peeled off of his skin, shards fell back onto the bed and blood oozed from fresh wounds. Seth looked like a wreck, but at the same time, all of this would be covered by his ring gear. Nobody would be able to see his hell.

Seth opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even utter a word, the man struck him across the face so hard that black dots danced before his eyes. He felt his stomach roll and worried that he would be sick, like he had been sick so many times before in situations not unlike this one, but his constitution held. His captor took hold of his ankles and yanked him down the bed, causing shards of porcelain to roll across his already war-zone like back.

"I'm gonna teach you a lesson, you little bitch. You'd be wise to remember it." Raking his short nails down Seth's cheek, he relished in the boy's pained scream. Little dots of crimson blood streaked the surface.

"Ouch! That hurts! That hurts! Please, please, stop! That hurts!" Seth screamed, kicking his legs in vain.

A large hand closed around his knee and squeezed with unbelievable force. "I'd watch where you kick those legs of yours, boy. I'm short on patience and right now, you may end up with a broken knee."

Seth swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry. I swear that I'll be good."

"Good." His look turned devilish now. "There's no reason to make this hurt more than it has to."

Seth closed his eyes, trying to block off all of the signals his nerves were sending him. His body was on fire, the sensation similar to that of a match being dragged across his skin. But he didn't utter a word. If he did, then he would risk everything. His captor would kill him and then he would never be able to return to Dean and Roman, if they would even take him back. And so he swallowed hard and did his best to ignore the pain as his legs were opened.

"Mmm, Phil?" Chris rolled over, surprised to find his lover's side of the bed vacant and cold. While it was unusual for Phil to sleep through the night, he would usually just stay in bed until he, hopefully, drifted off again.

Chris wasn't too concerned, however. Knowing that Phil would come back when he was ready, he moved over a little bit to leave some room for him, before allowing himself to drift back off. That was, of course, until he heard the awful sound of a single gunshot ringing through the near-silent halls of the hotel. There was a scream, which he recognized to be Seth's voice, and then the sound of one set of footfalls leading off to the third floor.

His heart had flown into his throat the minute that he heard that single gunshot go off. Somehow, without even seeing what had transpired, he knew that it was Phil that had been shot. And with that in mind, he leaped out of bed and grabbed the nearest pair of pants that he could find. They happened to be a pair of his skinny jeans, which had been thrown off in a lust-filled frenzy the night before. Not bothering with a shirt, he continued into the hallway.

And then, his heart just stopped. He choked on the air as he fell to his knees beside Phil's fallen body, his hands on the carpet stained with diet Pepsi and blood. It soaked into his jeans and ruined them, but he didn't care. Crawling to his beloved pet, he gingerly lifted one arm to check for a pulse. It was incredibly weak, but still there. Not wasting any time, he set a hand on Phil's stomach to staunch the flow of blood and with the other, dialed 911.

"911 – What's your emergency?" The operator asked, her tone far too cheerful.

Chris felt like he was about to hyperventilate as he choked back the tears. "It's… It's my boyfriend, Phil. He's… oh, God… there's so much blood… he's been shot!" Chris had to force the words out.

"Alright, sir. Can you give me your address?" He gave her the name of the hotel. "Okay, the ambulance is on its way. But I need you to do two things for me, alright?"

"Okay." Anything. Chris would have done anything if it meant that Phil was going to be okay, that he would live.

"Is he breathing? Can you check for me?" She asked kindly.

Even if he had just checked, he did so a second time. So much could have happened in the span of a few seconds. "He's breathing… but it's so faint… Oh, God… Phil, just keep breathing baby. Just keep breathing."

"And how is his pulse? Is it faint also?" She continued.

"Yes. Yes… it is." Chris rambled off, his eyes filling with tears as Phil's stared back lifelessly.

"Okay, sir. I want you to stay on the line until the paramedics arrive and inform me of any changes, okay?"

But Chris wasn't listening to her. He was too busy cradling his baby's head, just about the only part of him that could move without severe pain. The phone fell to the floor, useless. The call continued, but Chris wasn't bothering to listen. If Phil didn't make it through this… If Phil didn't make it through this, he didn't know what he would do. He had sworn to protect Phil from all danger and now, he had broken that promise.

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…

It was true. He really did know how to make the walls of Jericho come tumbling down…