I wake up the next morning to the door opening. Or - at least, I think it's morning. I'm pretty sure it is. But I'm not entirely sure. Aaron and I are dragged out into the blinding sun by armed men, and then I can be sure, based on the position of the sun, that it is, in fact, morning. About eight or nine, to be exact. 

We're thrown into a canvas tent, where I'm tied to a chair and Aaron to a pole.

Three men, each with a baton and one with a knife, circle my chair with sneers of men who have ill intent. I've met this kind of sneer with my Slave Guardian in the Camps, and know that remaining impassive is my best bet at not being beaten or stabbed to death. Dunno about anyone else, but I'd like to remain living, thank you very much.

The troubled expression on Aaron's face, especially because he's not being harmed at the moment, tells me that he understands what they have in store for me as much as I do.

"Listen, bitch," the one with the knife growls - actually growls, while calling me the dog. "You're going to answer our questions, you're not going to back talk, and you're not going to refuse an answer. If you refuse to oblige, we will hurt you."

I frown. "What if I don't know the answer? Will it affect my grade on this quiz?"

Ah, my mouth is going to get me into a lot of trouble. But some things just slip out, you know?

"Any question you cannot answer will result in your injury. Compliance is the best option."

"That's a tad one-sided," I muse. Then I shrug. "Ask away. I'll answer to the best of my abilities."

"How did you escape the camps?"

Oh, these types of questions, then? Easy. "My brother helped me. He was really the mastermind behind it all."

"Where is he?"

"Dead. Killed by a Sentry soon after we escaped. Then it was just me."

"How the hell are you still alive?"

"Teaching myself to fight, and stealing what I needed from Sentry stations." Slight lie. An older guy taught Brian and I a few things before we left because he wanted us to be able to defend ourselves. But - these guys don't need to know that.

"By yourself?"

"For awhile."

"Where's your team now?"

"No idea. Your bomb kinda rendered me unconscious. They must've disappeared in that time before you caught us."

That gets me a whack in the stomach, because I guess my answer wasn't enough. I gasp, Aaron calling my name and struggling against his binds to try to reach me.

"Where are they headed?" the man snarls.

"I-I don't know," I choke. "Originally, we had a rendezvous point near Rhode Island, but if they think I'm dead, they might head somewhere else." Lies. But again, they don't need to know that.

This earns another whack of the baton, this time against the base of my knee. My knee kicks forward, hitting the man, and I'm punched in the jaw by one of the other men. I cough and wheeze, my eyes watering. 

"How many people are in your group?"

I must have taken too long to respond. The knife comes down on my arm, slicing through a decent way - not enough to scar, but enough to bleed and make me scream.

"Bryna!" Aaron shouts, struggling against his restraints, trying to uproot the pole, trying to do something to stop this cruelty.

"Four," I choke. Probably, this is actually the truth if Justin's still with them.

"Who?"

I refuse this one. I won't make it easier on them to find the twins and Lea. I couldn't really care less if they found Justin.

My chair is kicked over, and the man kicks me in the chest, making me cry out and struggle against my binds to curl up in protection.

"Maybe I should just ask your friend here," the man snarls, turning to Aaron.

I gasp, inhaling and exhaling to regain my composure.

"Who is in your group?" he snarls at Aaron. Aaron refuses, just like I did, and receives a punch to the gut, as well as the baton cracking against the side of his skull.

Aaron cries out, and I struggle in my binds as the man snaps and just starts brutally beating Aaron with the baton.

The two other men pull me up and one of them yanks my head back by the hair, forcing me to watch Aaron get mauled.

"Stop!" I plead, struggling in the grip of my captors. "Just stop."

The man turns to me and Aaron coughs. "You gonna answer the question, b-"

"No," I interject. "But you're sure as hell not getting anything from me by beating up my friend." I shrug weakly.

The man snarls at me, motioning for the men to undo my binds from the chair. They oblige, but manage to keep my hands bound behind my back.

My main captor grips me by the collar of my shirt, lifting me up a few inches. 

"I can make your life a living hell, and there's nothing you can do about it," he growls.

Oh. Then there's no point in holding back my snark. "Y'know, you keep calling me a bitch, but have yet to refrain from growling out sentences for at least a minute," I remark, my expression impassive. 

This earns me a punch to the gut, but I don't give them the satisfaction of hearing my cry of pain.

So it goes. They hurdle insults at me - ugly, annoying useless, pathetic - and beat me up pretty much to a pulp. I wonder if this is what people who were bullied felt like. Probably they felt worse.

The entire time, Aaron's pleading for the three of them to leave me be, to take it out on him. I can't allow that, and so I fire remarks at them over his pleas, which effectively keeps their attention on me.

~~~

Aaron's P.O.V

I know what Bryna was doing when she had them inflict pain on her. But that doesn't mean I had to like it, just because she was saving my skin.

Watching them abuse her like that killed me. She was so obviously in pain, but she didn't do much about it, other than egging them on and grunting at the brutal blows. 

The person who takes us back to our 'cell' is none other than Adam. He carries Bryna's limp body, and one of his minions grips me by the arm to keep me in place as I follow along.

When we're in our dark room again, Adam lies Bryna near the far wall, before undoing both of our binds. His minion leaves at his gesture. 

"I apologize immensely for this," Adam says quietly. "Had I known how brutal they'd be, I'd have put a stop to it."

I don't respond with anything other than a curt nod, sinking to the ground next to Bryna.

He sighs, throwing me a bag that hits the ground next to me with a thud. "You didn't get that from me," he says curtly, striding out with authority and closing the door behind him.

For awhile, I just sit in silence, waiting for something. For what, I don't know. 

Finally, I grab the bag and open it, pulling out some trail mix and granola bars, as well as some plastic water bottles, a mini first aid kit and a flashlight.

Okay. Maybe this guy isn't so bad. But, still.

I turn on the light and examine our surroundings. We're in a small room with no windows under what used to be a factory of some sort. The area is pretty much bland, except for a small, tattered cot in the corner that looks like it'd more likely give someone back pains than be a comfortable place to sleep.

Bryna lays next to me, her face covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. She always looks so relaxed when she's sleeping, but now she looks slightly pained, as if caught in a vaguely uncomfortable situation. From what she's told me about her nightmares, I'd say it's extremely likely.

After about a half hour, Bryna decides to grace me with her consciousness.

"Aaron?"

I glance at her. "Hey."

She tries sitting upright, grimacing as she puts pressure on her wounded arm. "Hi. How'd we get back here?"

"We were escorted after you fell unconscious," I explain, pulling out the first aid. "Your friend got us supplies we're probably not supposed to have. But I'm not complaining."

"Neither am I," she says. "How're you feeling?"

"Horrified. Stunned. Furious." I shrug. "But I should be asking you that question."

"Eh, it's nothing I can't handle. You were at the Camps longer than I was. You know how they were."

I frown. "Unless I stepped out of line, we were pretty much not touched physically."

"Huh. We could do nothing right. Well, you got lucky, then."

I rub the back of my neck. "Yeah."

She places a hand on my shoulder, seeming to read my thoughts. "Aaron, I'm really okay. You don't need to worry about it."

I frown. "I know you're okay pain-wise. But the body can only take so much damage before it gives in. I don't wanna see you die."

Bryna scoffs. "I'm not going to die, Aaron, but thanks for your concern."

"Someone has to be concerned, because it sure as hell isn't you."

She smiles and squeezes my shoulder lightly before removing her hand. "I've got you to worry about; you're my priority."

I have to admit, the concept of being someone else's priority is a foreign concept to me. For the longest time, it's been Lea and I, me taking care of her and looking out for the both of us. And then Bryna comes along, pulling me out of firing range from the man who almost killed my sister in all her mysterious glory, before going and saving both me and Lea without batting an eyelid about it. I have to admit, from seeing her in place with Brian and Alex, I could tell she was the leader of the three. She just exudes that confidence and intelligence that leaders usually have, and even having no contact with someone who wasn't out to kill me for years, I felt safe with them. I trusted them with Lea, and I trusted Bryna to make the decisions. For once I didn't have to lead, and I was grateful for that.

Bryna quite literally saved my life, and then metaphorically changed it forever. And even when her life is on the line, she's still here with the sole purpose to get me to where I need to be - with Lea - and she's determined to get me there no matter the cost. She's willing to take the injuries I should be bearing, the scars I should be harboring, for the sake of getting me out of here unharmed and ready to make the journey back to my sister. Knowing that she's putting herself out there for me, for a guy she's barely known a month... It's astonishing. And admirable. And quite dangerous. I wish I could stop her from doing it, but I know I can't. So I just do what I can, and fix up her worst injuries without comment. 

And she must have realized that this is my way of saying thank you, because she doesn't say anything, just allows me to do what I can.

When I'm done, she gives me a tight smile, and I nod solemnly, not liking her lack of emotion towards her injuries, but also not brave enough to call her out on her sh- ahem. Crap. Look at that, she's even got me filtering my language in my own head. Cute.

~~~

Bryna and I sit in companionable silence for a few days, not speaking, just eating and sleeping and waiting for something to happen.

No one's visited us, and I don't know whether or not that's a good thing. Bryna hasn't commented on any of it, so either she's not thinking about it or she just isn't that concerned. I'm leaning towards the latter. 

Currently, we're both leaning against the wall, our shoulders touching. She's sitting in a fetal position, her head resting on her knees and her icy blue eyes staring at the space in front of her. I can practically see the gears turning in her head, whatever's going through that head of hers will either kill us or be our saving grace. 

I sit with my legs sprawled out in front of me, my head leaning against the wall. I'm doing quite the opposite of my companion, staring at the ceiling with my mind a blank slate. I don't think I've been this bored since Lea decided to drone on about her girly problems and tell me how inconvenient they are. Because I needed to know about it, apparently. 

Suddenly, Bryna lets out a sigh. "It's official. I am officially just bumming myself out at this point."

I look at her in confusion. 

She can't notice my expression because it's dark, but she goes on explaining anyway. "I've been trying to figure out how to get us out of here, and I keep counteracting every single plan I come up with. It's depressing."

I snort. "I can imagine. So what're we going to do?"

"Dunno. Wait 'til I'm struck with an idea of pure brilliance, or until Adam decides to give us a ring and assist us in our escape."

"Sounds like we're going to go through a bit more before either happens."

She whacks my shoulder halfheartedly and laughs. "I'm counting on myself, but it'd be nice if I didn't have to be the rescuer this time. I could use some cliche in my life."

"You hate cliche."

"I know. But I'm in the mood to be the rescued, not rescuer."

I shake my head. "You're strange."

"You're just now noticing that?"

I laugh. "Nah. I'm just now pointing it out."

"Well, at least you're honest." I can imagine her grin.

"But of course. Chivalry may be dead, but honest men aren't."

"Lemme know when you see an honest man, then. I've yet to meet one."

"Was that an insult to my masculinity?"

"Maybe."

I chuckle. "You're lucky I'm fond of you."

"I'm blessed, I know," she responds, and even in the dark her sarcastic smirk is prominent on that pretty face of hers.

"More like cursed," I retort with a small scoff.

"I am cursed, aren't I?" she muses, leaning against me. "Tragic. I never noticed that before now."

"Bad things happen to good people for great reasons." I shrug, moving my arm to wrap around her waist so she can snuggle into my side, as we've been doing for the past few days. 

At first, I had done it to comfort both of us, so we know someone else is there, I suppose, but now it's just ritual. She curls into my side and I wrap an arm around her to accommodate her. An intimate position, absolutely, but comfortable all the same. 

I fiddle with a stray strand of her hair and she rests her head on my shoulder. 

"They do, don't they?" she asks softly. "But then what does that make you and Lea?"

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

Hey! Sorry I'm late. I was babysitting last night and just collapsed when I got home.

This is more of a filler chapter - or at least Aaron's P.O.V was.

What do we think these guys want? Whats with the questions?

And what did we think of Aaron's P.O.V? Yes? No?

Also, what do we think about Bryna's self-sacrifice complex? Her last words to Aaron? What about their relationship as a whole?

Alright. School ends this next week for me, so if I can remember, updates should begin a normal pace. ^.^ And we've almost reached the climax for Escape. Yay!

Alright, off to go sadistically decide fates,

-Musical_Author