Hey, everybody, it's my first fic of PoI and I really enjoyed writing it. I'm in love with the show and with the characters.
English is not my first language so I hope I haven't screwed up too much. =)
My inspiration to write this story was the story "John's bad day" by Vilixia Flickeram. It's a great story. Well, I hope she doesn't mind. You should read her story. =)
I don't own the characters, and If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, I would be doing some dirty with some Mr. Reese.
Chapter 1 –
At some dark room
Plop... Plop... Plop... Plop... The silence that filled the room was making the sound of each drop echo through John's ears. It pierced his already tormented mind like a voodoo pin. Plop… Plop… Plop…
"Fuck it…" John tried to scream but only a whisper came out of his mouth. Pain was unbearable. It was 22 hours since they had taken him into that dark room. The longest he had been tortured before was 16 hours. His eyelids were desperate to shut down because of the pain, but he could manage to stay awake.
Plop… plop… plop…
It was driving him crazy. He felt helpless. He couldn't stop the drip on the roof. Hell, he couldn't even see from where it was coming because he was strung up by his hands in the middle of the room like a meat to be sold. There was only a beam coming from the outside and John realized it was already night by the intensity of the light.
His feet were barely touching the floor and he was able to sense the cold tile only by the tip of his toes. It was not the first time he had been strung up by his arms like an animal yet to be tortured and sacrificed before. If there was something that frightened John Reese was being in that situation. He felt helpless and vulnerable not only psychologically but also physically. The perpetrators had all control over his body and he didn't like it…
John had been tortured in many ways during his life at the agency and he actually had managed to endure it easily, but… being strung up and tortured at the same time was a different situation.
Plop… plop… plop…
"Ahm…" He groaned and fidgeted his hands to try to free them from the knot that was trapping the rope around his wrists. The more he tried, the more it ached. "Fuck…" He cursed his incapacity to release himself from a fucking rope knot. Perhaps the weight that was supported by his trapped wrists… his weight, which wasn't few… would make even more impossible to release the grip. He ended up giving up. He had to think another strategy. Where was Finch, anyway.
"Carter…" She answered her phone expecting the man in a suit on the other side.
"You have to help me, Detective." Finch sounded desperate.
"Who is it…?" She asked in confusion. She didn't hear the low tone and flippant voice.
"My name is Harold Finch and you've been in contact with my partner for a few days… "
"By your partner you mean the guy in a suit? The one who keeps sending criminals as gifts and destroying everything along the way." Carter asked. She was still wondering why the man called her.
"That's… him…" Finch leaned back and gazed around. What a strong opinion she had over Reese. Not that she was wrong anyway. The man was the characterization of the destruction.
"What happened?" She sounded concerned.
"Something went terribly wrong, detective. I need your help." Finch tried to sound calm, but it was vainly. His worrying was right clear in his voice and Carter prepared her ears to the bad news. The man in a suit was probably bleeding out somewhere.
"What exactly do you need?" Carter stood up from her desk and walked to an interrogation room where she could speak with anyone eavesdropping.
"I'll send you an address, be there as soon as you can, detective. Make sure you are not being followed." Finch ordered and despite his fears, he was able to sound convincing.
"What… why… what's going on…?"
"Sent you the message… come quickly!" He paused. "Please…"
Finch ended the call and stared at the computer. How could they have slip like that? One dumb conclusion. One dumb decision. One dumb mistake and John was now in the wrong hands, probably dead.
Finch hid his face in his hands and hoped Detective Carter could help him find John still alive.
At some dark room
Plop… plop… plop… John's body was covered by bruising and cuts strategically placed in parts of his body that inflicted an amount of pain to torture him, but not leave him unconscious. To be unconscious was all John desired at that moment.
He was holding on quiet until that moment. He would never give up any information about Finch and the machine. He would die first. He could be replaced easily… but Finch… no… There were some people the world couldn't afford to lose.
He listened to the door of the small room opening and his whole almost-naked body cringed. He was in his underwear, at least those guys left him with a little bit of dignity. The two guys came back to try to extract information from him.
One of the guys was dressed in a suit. He was tall and had an imposing figure. When John was investigating the new number, he missed this guy. He and Finch had made an unforgivable mistake again. They had saved the wrong person and it had cost a lot until now. The other guy was only there to do the dirty work. He was carrying a box with some surgical stuff and some strange objects.
"So, John… have you decided to talk or are you really a masochist?" The imposing man approached and grabbed John roughly by his chin.
John jerked his head away, but he actually didn't have any strength to react at that point. His look was a mixing of angry, shame, vulnerability, extreme pain and willpower to tell that son of a bitch to go to hell.
Their eyes were almost at the same level. The man was tall like John, but still he had to look up to reach Johns eyes because of the strung up position.
"Who are you working for?" The man let go of John's chin and stepped back to prepare some stuff.
"…" John silenced himself.
"Your chest and abdomen are covered by cuts… It's bleeding John… You could get and infection…" The man had a nonchalantly tone in his voice.
He and his assistant were preparing some chemical. John tried to open his half closed eyelids to see what they were doing… but his view was obstructed by the figure of the men. He cursed himself for that.
"Your back is burned and bruised. It will leave some pretty scars there, John… not to mention your legs… They looked fine before I worked on them, don't you think?" The man turned to him with a vial and a syringe in his hands.
John breathed heavily and frowned angry in order to show he was prepared for what the hell that man planned to do to him. But inside… he was cracked as a 4 year old and he had to fight against the tears that had started to appear in his eyes because of the extreme pain. Where was Finch… Where was Carter… He still had some hope they would find him.
"Those hematomas John… they are not made for strong legs like yours… it's a shame." The man had a mischievousness smirk.
He approached and filled the syringe with the chemical inside the vial. John's eyes followed the man's hands. John knew what was that and anticipated the pain that was about to be inflicted in his body. Those were chemical to induce inflammatory pain. It would hurt like hell. John had been there before.
"This will hurt…" The man said with a smile.
"Ahm…" John whispered in fear and fidgeted to try to protect himself, but it was vainly, his body was weak.
The man was able to grab John's hair with one hand and jerk his head slightly to the side. With that exposure, John's aorta was beautifully ready to receive the medication. John felt the pinch and jerked his head to release himself from the grip of the man, but the man tightened the grab stronger and jerked John's head again.
"Don't play me, John…" He faced John eye with eye.
John spited in his face and smirked flippantly.
"Son of a bitch!" The man screamed and then slapped John in the face two or three times.
Slapping was more humiliating than punching. John felt his dignity being shattered slowly and he wasn't able to do much about it.
"You… know…" John tried to speak, but his voice was only a painful whisper. "No… matter… how much pain… you will never… break me…"
"We will see, John… Have you prepared the other chemical?" The man looked to his assistant.
"Yeah… here… its strong… be careful." The assistant gave him the vial.
"Ah… ahm… fuck…" John closed his eyes hard and groaned in pain. The medication was kicking in.
At the library
Finch worked on his computer to trace John's path before he had been abducted by 2 men in black clothes and masks. He just needed to find something, some clue… some… . The rain was falling heavily and the fog made the search even harder. He had to find John… no matter how. Finch gathered all the information they had stored about the last case. He looked and read it again and again. He looked desperately for a clue. He didn't mind if Carter discovered about the machine… He didn't mind if she discovered their hidden sanctuary inside an abandon library… He only minded saving John.
He heard the ring bell and walked to the huge door to open it. There she was. Carter… With the most confusion face a human being could manage to have.
"Ask no questions… look for anything… only help me finding him… He is in danger… can be dead."
"What is this place… what is going on?" She had her mouth slightly open. Apparently she hasn't listen to Finch's previous words.
"No questions, detective! Come inside." He stepped aside to give her way to enter.
She stepped inside the library and Finch closed the huge door behind them.
At some dark room
The man smiled at John's face. John locked his eyes on to the perpetrator's and stared at him, defying him. There was still a hint of smugness in John's blue eyes, but they were too bright to give in his soul when he was in pain.
The man grabbed the vial… this one was a little bigger than the other and in a sudden movement he threw the liquid at John's body… Specifically at his chest which was covered by cuts.
"Ahhhhhhhh… hamm… ham…" John screamed a 1 second scream and the rest of it turned into whispers and groans of pain. He didn't have any more strength to even scream.
"Poor John… For whom do you work for?" The man screamed in John's face.
John's body was already showing signs of shock. He was sweating, shivering, his eyelids were ready to give up and pass out, and he was breathing heavily… and there it was… tears.
"Fuck… you…" John whispered.
The man hit John's private parts with his knee. John cringed and fidgeted to protect himself, but he couldn't… the more he fidgeted, the more his wrists ached.
"Why have you tried to kill me, John?" The man screamed again.
"…" John only stared at the guy.
"And why have you saved before?" The man was confused.
"I've… been asking… myself that…" John's voice was so weak it was almost inaudible.
"What?" The man couldn't hear.
"What did you say?" He grabbed roughly John's chin.
"Go to hell…" John managed to smirk.
The man stepped back and laughed.
"I thought we were friends, John." The man turned to leave. "Break his knee!" He said with a smile in his way out.
John's eyes opened and looked at the assistant. The guy had a baseball bat. John freaked, but he had no more control over his muscle to try another useless attempt to protect himself. The medication must have been something strong… it was piercing him from the inside and he was losing control of his muscles.
"Sorry, buddy…" The guy said before smashing the bat against John's right knee.
"Ahhhhh…" Again, he tried to scream but only a whisper of pain came out of his mouth. He buried his face in his arm.
"Sorry… man…" Another smashing at the same knee.
It was enough… he couldn't do it anymore… His mask of smug super hero fell heavily from his face. He finally gave up being strong and cried. He cried. He was no more John Reese, the indestructible, the abrasive figure, he was not the aggression in its most elegant way anymore… he was just himself… a man… broken into a billion pieces… frightened as a child. With no more dignity left…
Hope you enjoyed. =) Reviews are welcome. Chapter 2 will be post soon. Sorry again if I got messed up with my English!