Return Ticket To Stockholm

I had a quality review that I'm very happy about, but it also makes me a little nervous in the sense that I really hope I can make this good. I'm new to writing and I have a hard time judging whether I'm getting any sort of feeling across or if it's just a pile of words. That review made me a little hopeful, though. :D

 

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The Trip Of Your Life!

Waking up was like being hit over the head with a brick.



Sometimes, waking up was like fading into reality, slowly making sense of things; starting out from a point of friendly incomprehension. Not today. The second Ryo opened his eyes, it was all there: the murder, the way the shot man had just folded up, the gun held to his own head. The guy holding it.

The fact that they had parked him in this room until further notice.



Pressing his back against the wall, he willed his heart to slow down, but there was no stopping it. God, and his mouth was so dry.



Drink.



He untangled himself from the blanket- how did that end up covering him, anyway?- and stumbled into the bathroom, where he tried to splash water on his face and drink it at the same time. It didn't really work, just got water everywhere, and he tried to cup his hands to drink that way, but they were shaking too much. In the end, he just drank from the tap.



He found the small towel again and dried himself off as best he could, finally burying his face in it, trying to breathe. People said to breathe into a paper bag, but he didn't have one, so maybe he could breathe into a towel. Or did that not work? He couldn't remember what it was about the paper bag that was crucial. Maybe he could ask for one. Maybe the towel was stupid, it seemed stupid, it didn't seem to be working.



Lowering it, he caught Blainn's reflection in the mirror. The guy was leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets, looking either dead tired or dead serious or both.

Ryo turned around. He had no clue how long the guy had been standing there, watching him, but it hardly mattered- what mattered was being able to breathe, and he wasn't. Well, he was still standing, but not for any reason he could see, because there certainly wasn't any air in his lungs. There wasn't any air anywhere, no matter how hard he tried to find some.



"Go lay back down, Rye."



He tried to swallow while struggling for air and ended up gasping and coughing. How in the world was he supposed to sleep again, like this? When breathing was hard enough while upright? There was no way of getting words out right now, so he just shook his head



"It's way early, man. You need more sleep than this. An' me, too."



None of that changed anything, so Ryo didn't bother trying to respond. I need air more than I need sleep. Fuck off.



Still watching him, Blainn finally nodded, his eyes tiny and tired. "Alright, fine. Listen. You're gonna be alive and in one piece by the end of the day, yeah? ...Now can you lay back down?"



What the hell was the guy talking about? He was dying right now.



But, amazingly, his chest seemed to ease up a little, letting more air in. Enough to squeeze words out.



"Yeah? What about tomorrow?"



"I don't know."



Ryo's heart sank like a stone. "...Right."



"No, serious." The guy in the doorway shrugged. "Nobody told me the plan, so I ain't telling you shit I don't even know. But today, you ain't getting hurt. Promise."



He seemed genuine enough. Of course, this wasn't the sort of person to put your trust in, but he was saying things that Ryo wanted to believe and giving him no reasons not to.

A day, that wasn't a lot; under different circumstances that might have been quite scary, but after he'd spent the night expecting to die at any moment, a day almost seemed too long to comprehend. It stretched out ahead of him, so far that he couldn't see the end of it, like one of those roads out west that seem to melt into the horizon long before they come to an end or a turn. A day, that was enough time to sleep and eat and work and shower and still have time to oneself. A day was long.



Finally, Blainn nodded, seemingly satisifed with something. "Tha's better. Now come on."



What was...? Oh. Air. There was air. He was still shaking, but it seemed to be exhaustion more than anything. What the hell had happened, there? Why had it seemed like Blainn knew? Ryo's mind was full of questions again, new questions to add to the ones he already had, but right now there was an urge that silenced them all.



He followed the guy back towards sleep.



 

The next time he woke, the room was full of light, sunshine thrown across the window sill. It had to be at least nine or ten in the morning; he'd slept a fair bit and actually felt somewhat rested. He had a little energy again, energy that immediately went towards freaking out.



No, no, stop.



The guy had said no harm today. Nobody was going to come bursting through that door to drag him off and shoot him, or worse. Of course there were plenty of unpleasant things that didn't involve physical pain -his mind jumped back to the events of the previous night-, but those could be survived.

He took a deep breath and let his eyes wander around the room.



Blainn was asleep on the couch, blanket tangled between his legs, using his old sweater for a pillow. The T-shirt he was wearing, much too big, had probably been grey to begin with, but it was hard to say- it might have been blue at some point.

He looked almost harmless, like this. His round face, faintly freckled, was relaxed and peaceful, and the way he had curled up made him look young. Actually young.

Ryo suddenly wasn't so sure the guy was older than him.



His body spoke up, wanting a number of things, so he went with the only one he could currently do anything about: bathroom.

As he sat up, Blainn's eyes opened, and Ryo was a little awed as well as disturbed by the transformation that came with waking up- the guy suddenly looked years older, watchful, vaguely unpleasant; like the sort of person you tried not to interact with if you saw them downtown.

Of course, that was exactly what he was.



He tried to ignore the way the guy was just watching him silently and padded over to the bathroom, which, it turned out, didn't have a lock. Of course not, silly of him to think that it might.

Nobody bothered him while he took a leak and washed his hands, nobody but his reflection, which looked at him accusingly. He felt oddly defensive, unable to say why.

The cold, white light wasn't flattering, casting harsh shadows across his face, making his dark eyes look even darker amidst pools of shadows, highlighting his cheekbones. He looked emaciated and pale, which he knew he wasn't. Allowing for the lighting, though, he looked none the worse for wear- that seemed weird, wrong somehow, given how much worse for wear he felt.

He'd never felt so drained, not emotionally. All he could think of was home, curling up in his bed, not talking to anyone- leaving this bathroom, going out into that room to wait and see what the future held for him, seemed more daunting than he could handle.

Just sitting here sounded good.



Yeah, 'cause they won't find you here. And your 'babysitter' won't check on you eventually.



 

There was a gym bag on the little desk, right in his line of sight as he opened the bathroom door. His bag.

Tense and full of dread, he walked over and checked it- sure enough, his bag, and inside, his clothes.



They'd been in his apartment.



They planned on keeping him here.



His heart started pounding again as those two thoughts wrestled for dominance. They'd been in his apartment, gone through his stuff- they had plans for him. The safety of home he'd been longing for was gone- he wasn't going home, anyway. He'd been burgled- he would never see it.

Both trains of thought boiled down to the same insight: 'home' was over.

"Looks like you'll be here a couple days," came a scratchy voice from the window. It didn't sound too pleased.



He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. "You sure seem happy."



"Fuckin' hate babysittin'." Blainn was stretched out on the windowsill, in the sun, with his eyes closed; he looked a lot more relaxed than he sounded.



"Maybe- maybe you won't- I mean..." Ryo faltered.



As dodgy as the guy was, the interaction kept him from folding in on himself, mentally; as much as he wanted to be left alone, he knew actual isolation would fuck him up in no time at all. On the other hand, being locked in a room with a cranky thug didn't seem like such a good idea, either.



Blainn opened one eye and squinted at him. "Yeah, maybe not," he said, but he didn't sound convinced.





There was silence after that, and eventually Ryo sat down, put his head on his old bag, and waited. There was nothing else to do, nothing to pass the time, nothing to occupy himself with but his own thoughts. He tried to let them drift to something happy, but that didn't really work, and when it did it was upsetting in its own way.



At some point, maybe half an hour later, Blainn moved, but he just rolled over, and then nothing happened again. A whole lot of nothing. So much of it that it was starting to feel like a tangible thing, something big and heavy that was weighing him down.

 

The soft series of clicks coming from the door was loud in the silence, startling him upright.



"Oh, thank fuck," said Blainn, who either had not been asleep after all, or could do some sort of instant boot-up. The guy was off the sill and by the door in less time than it would have taken Ryo to locate his limbs.

Considering he was sort of the enemy, it was a little scary how fucking quick he was.



The second the door opened the slightest bit, Blainn squeezed through it, cutting someone off who had been trying to come in. Ryo could hear a couple of hurried words before the door fell shut again.



He'd hated the waiting, but now that something was happening, was about to happen, he wanted the nothing back. Funny, wasn't it? People were stupid like that.

His nerves felt like they were about to short out, making him fidgety. Why were they making him wait? What was going on outside his door? Ha, look, you thought of it as YOUR door.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but it was probably something along the lines of him losing his mind.

 

Just as he got up to pace the room, to walk off some of the tension, the door opened and someone slipped through.

The guy everyone called boss.





He was wearing dark grey jeans today that fit him well, and a grey V-neck sweater. Simple, but it flattered him. He still would have seemed a little bland, maybe, but for his attitude- he wasn't the unobtrusive guy he'd been in the gas station; he was the boss around here, and it showed. The way the man was looking at Ryo reminded him of a snake watching a mouse, making him discover a whole new level of sympathy for the plight of mice everywhere. What sort of animal was it that was said to get hypnotized by its predator- mice? Rabbits? In any case, he couldn't tear his eyes away.



Eventually, it was sheer nerves that made him break the silence.



"What's going to happen to me?"



"I haven't decided yet." The man's voice was neutral, his face blank, but his words were scary enough.



That could mean anything, couldn't it? It could mean 'I haven't decided if you're going to die' or 'how you're going to die' or even, in some crazy alternate universe, 'I haven't decided whether to hire you'.



Yeah, not in this reality. Not going to happen.



"Can you tell me the options?" He knew his voice was thin, but at least it came out at all.



"No."



"Right." He nodded, his poor heart pounding again. It occurred to him that sooner or later it was going to give, and maybe that would be for the best.



Getting too tense to stand still any longer, he finally started walking the room, looking at things without seeing them. His visitor, this man who was a threat to his life, no, quite probably the end of it, just watched. Even though the guy was here in person, looking at him, talking to him, he was as anonymous as ever. It seemed wrong.



"Do you have any sort of name I'm allowed to know?" he asked, looking out the window at the other building.



"Oh. Yes, I suppose." The man sounded vaguely surprised. "You can call me Brennan."



He hadn't expected a first name, but the guy hadn't exactly said it was his name, anyway. "Did you just make that up?"



The man behind him laughed, an unexpectedly pleasant sound. "It's actually the name my mother gave me." The voice was coming closer. "I haven't used it in years, but no, it's not made up."



With every step that sounded behind him, Ryo's skin felt tighter. Finally he turned around- he didn't really want to face the guy, but keeping his back to him just wasn't an option.

The man was close, maybe two feet away, watching him again with that blank expression, as if he was waiting for something. For what, though? What did he want? Ryo was lost. Was the guy waiting for him to do something, say something, maybe something he could base his 'decision' on? Or just watching him because it was fun?



"I don't know how to deal with people like you," he sighed, meaning everyone he'd met in the last twelve hours. "What am I expected to do?"



"'People like me'?" Brennan's face was the perfect image of polite curiousity.



"Everyone." He was suddenly at a loss of what to call them- maybe there were terms mobsters took offense to, maybe they didn't like to be called mobsters, for example, and offending them didn't seem like a good strategy. "People... you know... uh, with guns?"



"Guns? I don't even have one on me," the man said, looking bemused. "I never do, at home."







Out of nowhere, the world span, taking him by surprise and leaving him dizzy and disoriented. What...? Which way was up? He tried to locate his limbs.

His feet were still on the ground, he noticed, but his one arm was twisted painfully on his back again -they seemed fond of doing that, here- and the other was flailing pointlessly as he struggled for air. Brennan had one arm across his throat, restricting his breathing while holding him close.

If he focused, he could still breathe.

Somewhat.

Not well.

"Obviously," Brennan's voice came, right next to him, "I won't need one." He laughed softly. "But also, you see, a weapon is always a little bit of a liability. There is always a chance, however small, that your attention will slip and someone will take it from you and use it against you- but nobody will strangle you with your own hands." As if to emphasize his words, he gave a little squeeze, making Ryo gasp.

The man tensed at the sound.



"Come again?" he asked, squeezing harder, seemingly nuzzling Ryo's neck as he did so.



It was getting hard to breathe, in a way that was quite different from earlier that morning. Then, his chest had been tight, it had felt like suffocation but apparently hadn't been- now, his lungs were asking for more air than the pressure on his throat would allow for. It felt like suffocation, because it was. He drew a ragged breath.



The grip on his hand tightened, making him wince, but what really got his attention was something ..firm... that was pressing against his hip- something that really couldn't be misunderstood, even though he was hoping against hope that the man had lied and it was a gun.

The range of 'I haven't decided' had just expanded considerably. I'm so fucked, he thought, instantly regretting his choice of words.





"Um, boss." The voice was deferential, but determined. "I sorta promised him he weren't gonna get hurt today."



"I don't intend to," Brennan said absentmindedly, right into his ear. "...Today."



Ryo's breath caught.



"Boss. No offense, y'know," Blainn persisted, moving into his line of sight and looking him over, "but I think y'are."



"Oh, Blainn." The grin was audible. "You just ruin everything, don't you?"



"Sorry, boss."



"Ah, well. Since you promised..."  With the tiniest grinding motion, the man lowered his voice until it was barely more than a throaty whisper. "Am I hurting you, Mr. Tailor?"



"Yes," he managed, distantly proud of the fact that his voice didn't crack.



"Well... my bad." Brennan let go.





Surprised by this unexpected freedom, Ryo stumbled and sank to his knees to catch his breath. It was hardly dignified, but he just didn't care, only cared that he could breathe again and, as an afterthought, that the man had stopped touching him.

As his lungs gradually stopped burning, that afterthought became more important. This mob boss was taking an interest in him. Sexually. Was that why he was still alive, why he was going to 'be here a couple days'? Or had this been a spur-of-the-moment thing and the real reason was something else entirely?

If it was the reason he was being kept around, what would happen if he refused?

Was that even an option?



He didn't want to be raped. The feeling was so overwhelming that he couldn't put it any other way, only had the simplest words for it.



Please. No.





 

The room was empty when he finally looked up. There was the sound of a shower running, that wasn't likely to be Brennan. Staggering to his feet, he longed for a shower, too- especially after... ugh. It was as if his body had been tainted, contaminated by something disgusting; he'd never felt this dirty after someone had touched him, but now he wished he could shed his skin and never go near it again. He should have been repulsed by Brennan, not himself, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something gross was covering him head to toe.



The sound of the bathroom ventilation got louder when Blainn came out, towel-dried hair sticking out every which way. He gave Ryo a look that was completely unreadable, of course it was, everything here was- it could have been concern or distaste or even some sort of condescending pity for being so weak. In any case, he'd made Brennan stop.

Ryo didn't know why Blainn was being nice to him, well, trying to help him, anyway- but he sure was grateful.



"Thanks," he offered quietly.



The guy shrugged slightly. "He'll be back."



Yes, that seemed likely, even if hearing it said out loud like that felt like being stabbed in the gut. Still, right now the man wasn't here, had been deterred by Blainn, and that wasn't to be sneezed at.



"Want a shower? I brought a towel."











He'd also brought his own shampoo and body wash, it seemed. Ryo was standing in the bathroom, suddenly unsure he wanted to get naked- he felt like he could never wear enough clothes again. Too many people getting too personal with him, over the last... less than a day. What a crazy thought. It felt like a lifetime since he'd handed the keys over to Phillip and thrown his jacket on to head home, but less than twenty-four hours ago, his shift had only just started.

He realized with a start that this meant his shift was beginning right around now, again. What time was it, exactly? Was he late yet? He was rarely late, and he wondered if Shelly would be more pissed or more worried when he didn't show up. How soon would they go from thinking he was unreliable to realizing something was wrong? Would they call the police eventually? There wasn't really anyone else who would. Maybe his landlord, next month, after the rent didn't come in.

Not that it mattered- he didn't think anyone would find him here, and if they did he was pretty sure Brennan would have him shot first. But really, how would anyone know? Nobody had seen anything. It seemed the entire city was smart enough not to be in that nameless street, everyone but him. And the cameras at the gas station wouldn't show anything but some customers filling up their car and buying a milkshake.



No hints. No clues. Flawless.



Nobody knew where he was or what was happening to him, except some people who would do nothing to stop it.

He'll be back. A new wave of disgust made him shed his clothes, wishing he could burn them, and turn the water as hot as he could bear.

Brennan would be back, obviously so; he was the one who had decided to bring Ryo along in the first place, so even if his interest wasn't sexual after all, he wanted something. And whatever it was, Ryo didn't delude himself that the guy would ask nicely.

And if it was? Just thinking about the way Brennan had rubbed his hard-on against him made him want to start all over with washing himself, made him wish he had something to scrub himself with until his skin bled.

He slid down the tiled wall and just let the hot water rain down on him.





"Rye?"



Blainn was in the bathroom. Lovely, he hadn't had enough people see him naked. Privacy wasn't really a thing here, was it?



"Hm."



"Just checkin'. Been gone a while."



"Don't tell me you worry about me," he grunted.



"Myself, more." Blainn sounded like he was showing his nasty little grin again. "If you off yourself in the shower while I'm supposed to be babysittin', I'm in deep shit, y'know?"



"Yeah, and how am I supposed to do that? Chew through to my arteries?" He was tired. He had never known it was possible to be this tired.



Through the water running down the shower door, he could see the distorted form of Blainn leaning against the sink. "What do I know what you smuggled in?"



"Nothing. Your friend made sure of it, alright?"



That made the guy laugh. "Ohh. You got searched? Fun, ain't it?"



"Best I ever had." Ryo lifted his head to let the water run over his face, willing it to wash the memory away.



"Hey, man- I guess you don't know that, but that's the truth. They're pretty damn nice about it, here."



That piqued a faint semblance of interest in him. "What, you got searched, too?"



"Yeah, coupla times, back in the day 'fore the boss took me in." Before Ryo could ask what the hell he meant by that, Blainn pushed himself off the sink and headed for the door. "I went and grabbed a sammich. There's one for you, if you want."





He didn't think he could possibly eat, but the longer he thought about it the more appeal it held, until it was enticing enough to lure him out of the shower. It had been a while since his last meal, and that one hadn't deserved the name- a candy bar and a soft drink during a quiet moment.

Slipping into fresh clothes and trying not to think about how they had made their way there, he felt marginally better. Not by much, the memories were still vivid in his mind, but at least it felt like the smell of fear had been washed off him along with everyone's fingerprints.





Blainn was on the window sill staring out, a small triangular plastic package in front of him. No, two- one was empty.



"Mind if I come up there?"



"Go ahead."





Outside was a little garden, like an inner courtyard, mostly paved, with a few benches under small trees and flowers in large terracotta pots.

Ryo gaped.

For one, it looked nice- not exactly homey, but pleasant and airy in a respectable sort of way. But more than anything... he had thought he was halfway into the clouds. That elevator ride had seemed to take hours, and now it turned out he was maybe on the second floor? How was this possible? How deep down had they started?

Was this some sort of bunker thing in the hills?



He couldn't tell. The garden was surrounded by buildings on all sides, maybe it even was all the same building, and it stretched several stories up, revealing nothing but sky beyond.

And sunshine.



He wanted out, wanted to eat his sandwich down there.



That brought him back to his empty stomach and the package Blainn had pushed his way. It was a plain, pre-packaged ham and cheese sandwich, from a convenience store or something, but right now it looked amazing.

It seemed like the best thing he'd ever tasted.













He watched the day pass from that window sill, looking out- watched the shadows get longer, watched as the sun disappeared behind the other building and the garden fell into shade, watched as the sky turned an inky blue.



With the dark came dread. He'd been promised no harm would come to him today, but today was nearly over, and who knew what tomorrow held? Of course, nobody ever knew what the next day would bring, but for most people that was hardly more than a turn of phrase- for him, though, it was real. Scary. No, terrifying.

He thought back to the way Brennan had implied that he did intend to hurt him eventually, and his breath caught. What was going to happen? What was the guy going to do that he couldn't, or wouldn't, do today? What was he waiting for?



It had been very clear that Brennan was capable and willing to hurt him- but worse, it seemed to have excited the man. The bulge Ryo had felt had been unmistakable. Was there any way that didn't spell out a world of pain for him? He couldn't think of one.

To feel pain, he had to be alive, at least for a little while. Somehow, that thought was hardly hopeful.