Smile hostage refuge [chapter six]
Title: Smile Hostage Refuge
Pairing: Max/Craig
Rating: R - beware of the noncon.
POV: First & third
Disclaimer: Fake. Title belongs to The Used.
Prelude | One | Two | Three | Four | Five
More emotion than I can handle hits me all at once. There’s a lot of anger and a lot of desperation, and I almost scramble to press the mobile closer to my ear, my knuckles turing white and my hand shaking. I feel so close to losing this chance in an instant; in the blink of an eye, this guy could disconnect me and it would be all over. There’s no one around to trace the call, and I don’t have a phone number to give Stenson since it’s Max’s. Everything rides on this. I take a deep breath and try to play it cool.
“I’ll do anything,” I state.
There’s laughing on the other end. “I’m sure you would.”
“What do you want from us? I can give you money, you name it,” I offer, just short of pleading. I cross my fingers in my lap, praying that he’ll demand something materialistic. Anything is more than worth Max’s life.
There’s a beat where nothing is said, but there’s a noise in the background that says more than any words could.
“... Here,” Mathers drawls at last. I can hear the grin in his voice.
There’s some static, and I nervously ask, “Hello?”
“Craig?”
“Max!” I yell, leaning forward in the driver’s seat as if to get closer.
“Craig,” he whines, and I know now that what I heard in the background was Max crying. He’s sobbing into the phone, snuffling hard and obviously trying to control himself. It just makes him cry harder.
Something contorts inside me, and my intestines feel like they’re twisting and knotting. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Max cry, because Max always preaches that tears aren’t worth a damn thing. My heart aches.
“He broke my fingers,” he says, voice wavering and muffled. “He’s going to kill me, Craig. He’s going to -”
“He’s not going to kill you! Tell me where you are!”
“Holy fuck, my fingers are broken,” he murmurs, sounding far-off. It’s like he’s only just noticing.
“Damn it, tell me where you are!”
“I can’t!” Max growls. “I don’t know where I am, and if I did, I couldn’t...”
The line goes dead. The dial tone creeps up my spine like a death sentence.
I press ‘3’ for Max’s speed dial, but his phone has been switched off.
“Max!” I scream, slamming my fist against the steering wheel. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck. Jesus!” I snap my phone shut before throwing it violently into the passenger's seat and resting my head on the center of the wheel. The horn blares.
“Shut the fuck up!” I yell, pulling at my hair.
God, Max. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t save you.
::
It’s over an hour later when I finally pull out of the parking lot. I had considered calling Robert or Bryan for a ride, but decided in the end to just cool down and drive myself. Blinking, I realize I'm safe and stopped in front of the police station, and I wonder just how I managed to get myself here alive. I don’t remember anything of the drive.
My legs guide me to the service desk, and I ask for Officer Stenson.
He isn’t on duty.
Max has broken fingers, and he’s off duty?
Still in a daze, I wander outside and stop at a public phone. I could easily have used my cell, but I instead pop a quarter into the slot and numbly punch in the number that Greg gave me in order to reach him. I have it memorized.
He answers, sounding as though he’s just woken up. I talk hurriedly.
“Max is alive. It’s that Mathers guy, not his step dad, and -”
“Craig, is that you? Slow down.”
::
In the end, Stenson tells me that he’s going to post two officers in the house so that if Chase Mathers calls again, they can trace him. Max’s hectic voice rings and repeats over and over again in my mind, so I only pay half attention. Gab will be so pissed.
“What have they done? What have I not? And every time I think about your voice I start to tremble, and my throats aching. And anytime you need a shoulder, I’m right here, you’ve just gotta find a way...”
I cut myself off abruptly as Gabriel enters the room. I watch as she flops down on the couch and uses the remote to flick on the television. I ball my hands into fists to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret.
“Do you ever miss them?” She asks briskly.
“Bless? Sometimes.”
She makes an indifferent noise. “Want to watch The Office with me?”
“Where’s Leila?”
“Sleepin’.”
She hasn’t so much as glanced in my direction, and it’s more than easy to tell that she really isn’t interested in anything but herself. I make a conscious decision right then not to tell her about my contact with Max.
I’m about to decline her offer when the door bell rings. “I guess I’ll get that,” I mutter when she makes no effort to move.
Beau Bokan and Matt Traynor are standing outside, wearing scarves and gloves and looking ridiculous. It isn’t even cold out.
Beau grins brightly down at me. I can’t think of anything to say and so I stay silent, and he must instantly get the wrong idea because he suddenly thrusts a grande Starbucks cup at me.
“I brought Starbones,” he tells me unnecessarily. The kid is so in love with his lattes that I can’t find it in my heart to tell him to leave, no matter how badly I want to be on my own.
“He payed for it himself,” Matt informs me with a roll of his eyes. “It’s kind of a big deal.”
“We thought you could use some company,” Beau chirps.
I don’t, really - I have my daughter and my band mates, and Gab is just inside...
On second thought.
I accept the proffered drink and toe on my sneakers. “Let’s go out.”
::
“So what are you guys doing in town?” I inquire, taking a sip of my chai latte as Matt parks his car in front of the beach entrance. It’s nice out.
“Just checkin’ out Warped, visiting old friends.” The drummer winks at me before pitching his door open and climbing out. “You know, the usual.”
We drift along the shoreline for a while until I decide that my mind is being given too much time to wander. I bark out a laugh as Beau stumbles over a rock and brings his Starbucks closer to his chest in order to protect it, and then guide them further up the beach where I sit down on a log and they follow suit.
“Distract me,” I say. “What’s new?”
“I wanna be on tour so bad, man,” Beau answers immediately, sounding just like a passionate child. A child that towers over both Matt and I.
I tilt my head. “But you guys signed on to the Atticus tour, right? Congrats.”
“Hey, let’s talk about you,” Matt interrupts, his tone serious but gentle. Beau, sensing an uncomfortable topic, draws his Sidekick out of his jacket pocket, his fingers moving rapidly against the keys until Matt places a hand over his, stilling him. Matt shakes his head.
Damn, that boy is a full-blown Twitter addict.
“What about me?” By the way Matt raises a brow at me, I doubt even my prided nonchalance could fool him now.
“Come on, McDeck. We know about Max. The gist of situation, anyway.”
I turn, slow and robotically, to stare blankly out at the ocean’s rolling waves and the gulls that ride them. “... How?”
“All Time Low goofed up big time. D’you know Jack Barakat? He made some smart announcement about ‘the safe return of Max Green from Escape the Fate,’ but the singer shut him up good before he could say anything else.”
I’m flat-out bewildered, not to mention vexed. Epitaph had promised to keep everything on the down-low. “Well how the hell did they find out? We haven’t told anyone.”
“Fucked if I know.”
If this at all jeopardizes the case, I’ll...
I pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter. “Mind if I smoke?”
Beau wrinkles his nose and takes a huge drink of his latte while Matt just sighs and pats my back as I inhale.
Pairing: Max/Craig
Rating: R - beware of the noncon.
POV: First & third
Disclaimer: Fake. Title belongs to The Used.
Prelude | One | Two | Three | Four | Five
More emotion than I can handle hits me all at once. There’s a lot of anger and a lot of desperation, and I almost scramble to press the mobile closer to my ear, my knuckles turing white and my hand shaking. I feel so close to losing this chance in an instant; in the blink of an eye, this guy could disconnect me and it would be all over. There’s no one around to trace the call, and I don’t have a phone number to give Stenson since it’s Max’s. Everything rides on this. I take a deep breath and try to play it cool.
“I’ll do anything,” I state.
There’s laughing on the other end. “I’m sure you would.”
“What do you want from us? I can give you money, you name it,” I offer, just short of pleading. I cross my fingers in my lap, praying that he’ll demand something materialistic. Anything is more than worth Max’s life.
There’s a beat where nothing is said, but there’s a noise in the background that says more than any words could.
“... Here,” Mathers drawls at last. I can hear the grin in his voice.
There’s some static, and I nervously ask, “Hello?”
“Craig?”
“Max!” I yell, leaning forward in the driver’s seat as if to get closer.
“Craig,” he whines, and I know now that what I heard in the background was Max crying. He’s sobbing into the phone, snuffling hard and obviously trying to control himself. It just makes him cry harder.
Something contorts inside me, and my intestines feel like they’re twisting and knotting. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Max cry, because Max always preaches that tears aren’t worth a damn thing. My heart aches.
“He broke my fingers,” he says, voice wavering and muffled. “He’s going to kill me, Craig. He’s going to -”
“He’s not going to kill you! Tell me where you are!”
“Holy fuck, my fingers are broken,” he murmurs, sounding far-off. It’s like he’s only just noticing.
“Damn it, tell me where you are!”
“I can’t!” Max growls. “I don’t know where I am, and if I did, I couldn’t...”
The line goes dead. The dial tone creeps up my spine like a death sentence.
I press ‘3’ for Max’s speed dial, but his phone has been switched off.
“Max!” I scream, slamming my fist against the steering wheel. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck. Jesus!” I snap my phone shut before throwing it violently into the passenger's seat and resting my head on the center of the wheel. The horn blares.
“Shut the fuck up!” I yell, pulling at my hair.
God, Max. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t save you.
::
It’s over an hour later when I finally pull out of the parking lot. I had considered calling Robert or Bryan for a ride, but decided in the end to just cool down and drive myself. Blinking, I realize I'm safe and stopped in front of the police station, and I wonder just how I managed to get myself here alive. I don’t remember anything of the drive.
My legs guide me to the service desk, and I ask for Officer Stenson.
He isn’t on duty.
Max has broken fingers, and he’s off duty?
Still in a daze, I wander outside and stop at a public phone. I could easily have used my cell, but I instead pop a quarter into the slot and numbly punch in the number that Greg gave me in order to reach him. I have it memorized.
He answers, sounding as though he’s just woken up. I talk hurriedly.
“Max is alive. It’s that Mathers guy, not his step dad, and -”
“Craig, is that you? Slow down.”
::
In the end, Stenson tells me that he’s going to post two officers in the house so that if Chase Mathers calls again, they can trace him. Max’s hectic voice rings and repeats over and over again in my mind, so I only pay half attention. Gab will be so pissed.
“What have they done? What have I not? And every time I think about your voice I start to tremble, and my throats aching. And anytime you need a shoulder, I’m right here, you’ve just gotta find a way...”
I cut myself off abruptly as Gabriel enters the room. I watch as she flops down on the couch and uses the remote to flick on the television. I ball my hands into fists to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret.
“Do you ever miss them?” She asks briskly.
“Bless? Sometimes.”
She makes an indifferent noise. “Want to watch The Office with me?”
“Where’s Leila?”
“Sleepin’.”
She hasn’t so much as glanced in my direction, and it’s more than easy to tell that she really isn’t interested in anything but herself. I make a conscious decision right then not to tell her about my contact with Max.
I’m about to decline her offer when the door bell rings. “I guess I’ll get that,” I mutter when she makes no effort to move.
Beau Bokan and Matt Traynor are standing outside, wearing scarves and gloves and looking ridiculous. It isn’t even cold out.
Beau grins brightly down at me. I can’t think of anything to say and so I stay silent, and he must instantly get the wrong idea because he suddenly thrusts a grande Starbucks cup at me.
“I brought Starbones,” he tells me unnecessarily. The kid is so in love with his lattes that I can’t find it in my heart to tell him to leave, no matter how badly I want to be on my own.
“He payed for it himself,” Matt informs me with a roll of his eyes. “It’s kind of a big deal.”
“We thought you could use some company,” Beau chirps.
I don’t, really - I have my daughter and my band mates, and Gab is just inside...
On second thought.
I accept the proffered drink and toe on my sneakers. “Let’s go out.”
::
“So what are you guys doing in town?” I inquire, taking a sip of my chai latte as Matt parks his car in front of the beach entrance. It’s nice out.
“Just checkin’ out Warped, visiting old friends.” The drummer winks at me before pitching his door open and climbing out. “You know, the usual.”
We drift along the shoreline for a while until I decide that my mind is being given too much time to wander. I bark out a laugh as Beau stumbles over a rock and brings his Starbucks closer to his chest in order to protect it, and then guide them further up the beach where I sit down on a log and they follow suit.
“Distract me,” I say. “What’s new?”
“I wanna be on tour so bad, man,” Beau answers immediately, sounding just like a passionate child. A child that towers over both Matt and I.
I tilt my head. “But you guys signed on to the Atticus tour, right? Congrats.”
“Hey, let’s talk about you,” Matt interrupts, his tone serious but gentle. Beau, sensing an uncomfortable topic, draws his Sidekick out of his jacket pocket, his fingers moving rapidly against the keys until Matt places a hand over his, stilling him. Matt shakes his head.
Damn, that boy is a full-blown Twitter addict.
“What about me?” By the way Matt raises a brow at me, I doubt even my prided nonchalance could fool him now.
“Come on, McDeck. We know about Max. The gist of situation, anyway.”
I turn, slow and robotically, to stare blankly out at the ocean’s rolling waves and the gulls that ride them. “... How?”
“All Time Low goofed up big time. D’you know Jack Barakat? He made some smart announcement about ‘the safe return of Max Green from Escape the Fate,’ but the singer shut him up good before he could say anything else.”
I’m flat-out bewildered, not to mention vexed. Epitaph had promised to keep everything on the down-low. “Well how the hell did they find out? We haven’t told anyone.”
“Fucked if I know.”
If this at all jeopardizes the case, I’ll...
I pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter. “Mind if I smoke?”
Beau wrinkles his nose and takes a huge drink of his latte while Matt just sighs and pats my back as I inhale.