ciwey
in
the_flyboys
HHF ENTRY: Into the Haze, Part 3
HORRIFYING HALLOWEEN FIC ENTRY
Title: Into the Haze
Author: ciwey
Rating: NC-17 for excessive swearing and depiction of violence
Summary: A night at the Gamma Rho Fraternity House turns out to be hell.
Disclaimer: This never happened.
Author’s Notes: Angsty College!Mavid. Based on the Cold Case episode "The Promise". Comments and constructive criticisms are very much appreciated. :)
Present.
Getting back into the real world with a look of pure determination in his eyes, Michael Lee found himself cursing at the injustice of this all. By all rights, this shouldn’t have happened to people like them, like David, like Stacey, like himself. True, they weren’t the most good-hearted of people, but most certainly not the worst either, just individuals trying to get by in a harsh and unfair life without screwing things up too much. They never went out of their way to hurt other people, almost always did all that they could to avoid inconveniencing people, acted with common decency towards others at the very least, but still, this fucking thing happened. It was unfair, there was no question about that, nothing that had happened tonight was reasonable at all. They didn’t deserve this, none of them did, not himself, not Stacey, and certainly not David.
But still it happened, still those bastards came by and tore us to fucking shreds. There is no justice in this world, I swear to fucking god, no justice at all. David... he’s a good guy, no doubt about that, but the bastards took advantage of that and decided to fuck him up just for the heck of it, fucked him up real bad and now you don’t even know where the hell he is. Stacey as well, she’s as sweet a girl as it comes, no reason for this horrible... event to befall her. But they hurt her too, they hurt them both, and if that’s not fucking injustice, I don’t know what it is.
He laughed bitterly at the thought, coughing up a fair amount of blood and feeling a shifting pressure in his chest. It was unfair, life was unfair, but as much as he cursed and screamed and fought back at the grand scheme of things nothing would change. Everything that had already happened earlier that night had, well, already happened, and as much as he resented the way things turned out, there was no way to amend the past. It was likely for the best that he just went on and try his best to fix things up, repair what those goddamn bastards had destroyed. Best find David fast, get him out of this huge mess you got him into in the first place.
That was the sole fact that hurt the most. All that had happened to David and Stacey would not have happened had he not brought them along in the first place, but Jesus Christ how was I supposed to know that things would turn out this way, that those bastards would fuck everything up?
It wasn’t fair, plain and simple, but nothing would ever change now. All he could do now was to find David, get Stacey, and get the hell out of this place.
Forcing himself to ignore the pain that shot through his system with each step (everything hurts like hell, but there’s nothing you can do about it at this point), Michael forced himself to continue making his slow and agonizing way along the smoke-filled hallway. Each breath was more of an effort than the last, each gasp of air bringing in more smoke and soot than oxygen. All the while the fire burned and crackled merrily around him, consuming what little remained of the oxygen in the air. He had put on as valiant an effort as was within the limits of his current battered condition, but with the conflagration that the fraternity house had all but erupted into and the hurt that his body had already had to endure, it didn’t take a medical expert to note that his physical condition was rapidly deteriorating. Still... you can’t just up and leave now, you gotta keep going on. It all depends on you now, can you hold long enough to make it through or will this take you down once and for all? This has to be it, no chance for you to quit or fall back, you’ve got to keep fighting, do all that you can to-
“What the fuck,” a familiar male voice barely registered over the fire with what Michael took to be immense surprise.
Spinning around on his feet as quick as he could (which admittedly wasn’t that quick at all), Michael winced and cried out in pain as the sudden movement sent a sharp ripple of agony through him. Still, the boy remained rather alert of what he saw before him, and as his eyes met those of the speaker, the rage and aggression that had been building up and yet he had suppressed for the most part erupted with such intensity that Nick Hunter, for all his twenty odd years of wrath, violence and varsity wrestling, had never even seen anything particularly close to it.
With an intense look that showcased the sheer rage that was within him, Michael stood tensely with the slightest of hunches, looking as though he was battered and bloodied in more ways than a human body should be able to survive, yet still managing to come across more intimidating than he had ever been. Hunter, on the other hand, looked to be almost flinching from the combined sight of the enraged Australian and the blaze that raged away all over the fraternity house. It almost escaped Michael’s notice that behind the college athlete was a half-open door from which he could see David’s ragged and exhausted form in the room beyond, hanging lifelessly from the ceiling by his bound wrists.
Oh god.
“What the fuck?” Hunter exclaimed not without certain terror in his voice, all a sudden seeming not as much the daunting guy he had been for the majority of his life. “The fucking house is on fire, Jesus Christ! I mean, fucking hell, it’s burning down, Jesus, where did everybody go? What the
“Get out of my way,” Michael could only mumble with spite through cracked and bloody lips. Almost without paying any heed to the other man, Michael struggled to restrain his emotions as he made for David in slow steps. Keep the rage in check, getting mad won’t do you any good now, someday you’re gonna kill this bastard for what he did but not today, not now. Don’t lose sight of what you came back for, you’re just here to get David to safety, no more, no less-
“I asked you what in the fucking hell is going on!” Hunter practically roared in his face, shoving the Australian backwards with both hands. “Jesus, why is the fucking house on fire? What happened, who the fuck did this, I’ll fuck that fucker up, I swear to god I will fucking kill that-”
“I said get the fuck out of my way, you sick son of a bitch!” Michael screamed with all the contempt that he could muster, the exertion of it causing him to cough more explosively, blood spraying from his lips as his chest constricted in unbelievable pain. Still he held his ground, gaze trained spitefully on the other man as he spat out each word with all the bitterness and resentment that was in the world, “You know what, Hunter? Fuck you. Fuck you and fuck Gamma Rho. You guys think that you’re the shit, that you get the right to do whatever you want to, that you can take advantage of everybody else, that you can put people through hell and treat them like shit just because they’re different? Well, you’re not. You guys are nothing but a bunch of fucking jerks, and I don’t need this anymore. I’ve seen you for the jackasses you really are, and I don’t-”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think!” Hunter hollered again in a mix of rage and confusion. Narrowing his eyes and glaring at the Australian, he accused, “You did this, didn’t you? You tried to burn the fucking house down just because we put down your fag of a friend?”
“FUCK YOU!” Michael howled at the top of his lungs. “You had no right to do anything that you did, you had no fucking right at all! You abused him, broke him, and I’ll see to it that you’ll pay for this to your very last breath, you fucker!”
Letting the pure infuriation that he had kept restrained within him explode into a powerful rage, Michael hurled the entirety of his body weight into the varsity wrestler’s muscular frame, fists pummeling away at anything that he could reach with every last bit of strength he could possibly muster. Taken off guard, Hunter could only yelp as a flurry of blows to his torso sent him crashing backwards onto the floor. Though the boy’s physical condition was not the best in the world, the sheer vehemence of his furor was more than enough to make up for it. With all the force of his body placed behind each punch, Michael lashed out again and again, what looked to be blind fury flaring in his eyes (though in reality likely the smoke inhalation rendering his vision hazy at best). He found himself coming damn near to losing the last pure strands of his sanity, but for the life of him he couldn’t care less. Hurt the smug bastard, tear him apart with your bare hands, bleed him out to death and rip him to shreds. Make him pay for everything he did, for all that he had done to Dave and the others!
“Get - the - fuck - offa me!” Hunter grunted in between strikes as Michael grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifted his head up from the floor and slammed it back down into the floorboard with all his strength, bloodying the back of the wrestler’s scalp.
In what was likely a subconscious attempt to hold back the Australian’s ceaseless assail, Hunter brought his knee up with driving force, effectively slamming his kneecap into the boy’s groin. Michael howled with immense agony as the pain overtook everything, the great strength that he had possessed seemingly all evaporated as he allowed Hunter to shove him aside.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hunter gasped, wincing and minding the mess of bruises over his mid-section as he cautiously got to his feet.
“What the fuck is wrong with you fucker?” Hunter snarled at the top of his voice, landing a vicious kick square in the Australian’s face that would’ve shattered his nose in a mess of bone and cartilage had it not already been broken. Michael whimpered as his world became one of sheer agony, the unbelievable pain all that he knew anymore even as Hunter delivered several more strikes in rapid succession, the first two landing heavy blows to his fractured and broken ribs, the third hitting his jaw with a spray of blood and teeth, then once more at his elbow where the force of the kick shattered the bone of the joint. Stomping as hard as he could onto Michael’s hand (and crushing every one of his fingers) for good measure, Hunter gathered his saliva and spit onto the side of the Australian’s face.
“Fuck you,” Hunter could only snarl as he stood over the downed man, beginning to pant with the exertion of fighting off the assault and the smoke that was starting to choke. “You think you’re better than me, huh you son of a bitch? You think you and that fag’s worth anything? Tell me, how does it feel? How does it feel, pussy boy? You hurtin’ something fierce? ‘Cause I’m on the top of the world here, I’m just about as good as it gets. You and that fag, you’re nothing. So don’t you even fucking dare to-“
“M-Michael?” a voice said weakly from behind him in the middle of the wrestler’s tirade, barely even audible over the fire.
Sprawled out on the floor in a mess of blood and broken bones, Michael could only raise his head for the slightest bit at the sound of the voice. Though he had been trounced, trampled and tortured beyond the limits of human endurance and was feeling some of the most vicious pain people were never meant to feel, hearing the voice brought what felt like a dim level of hope to what looked to be a dire situation. Looking up pleadingly, he caught sight of David’s hapless gaze as the loner still struggled to free himself from his bindings. Michael tried to cry his name, tried to form words with his lips but failing dismally as dark, viscous blood gushed out of his mouth. Instead, he mouthed the two words that had been on his mind ever since... ever since this all happened.
I’m sorry-
“So you’re awake, faggot?” Hunter sneered, regaining some of his previous arrogance yet still somewhat fearful of the raging fire at the same time. “You were a good fuck while it lasted, I’ll give you that much.”
Michael’s eyes widened with a renewed rage, but with his body in some of the worst conditions a human body has ever withstood he could not find any strength inside himself to fight back. The will was there, the determination was there, the rage was there, he just could not find the energy to do it. Bastard, that fucking bastard! How dare he, how dare he hurt David, that sick bastard hurt him, used him, fuck!
“Yeah, you heard me right cocksucker,” Hunter went on in a sharp tone as he none too gently nudged Michael in his side. “Fucked the faggot. Hey, what can I say, a hole is a hole, right? So whaddya think, betcha would’ve loved to go for sloppy seconds huh? Is that it, pussy boy? Is that why you were so worked up? You wanted to be the one to break him in, the first guy to shag the fag?”
Why, fucking why, why did this have to happen to somebody as good as David? Why, god, why in the hell? Is there no justice in the world? WHY, GODDAMNIT WHY?!
“Bet that was it, huh?” Hunter said idly with a bit of a laugh as Michael used the last of his strength to roll over onto his back. “Wanted to shag the fag so bad you couldn’t have waited. Though that’s not unjustified I guess, fag boy was a good fuck, like cunt, fuckin’ cunt. Well, let it never be said that I’m one to deny anybody a fuck when they want one.”
Grabbing hold of Michael’s right arm by his shattered elbow, Hunter hauled the dead weight of the Australian’s body along with enough force to dislocate his shoulder and leave a helluva trail of blood on the floorboards. Hardly putting up any resistance as the college athlete bodily dragged him along into the room David was in, Michael instead weakly did his best to dig his broken fingers into the floor. With a heave or two, Hunter stood back with a great look of perverse satisfaction on his face as he surveyed the condition Michael was in. Fucking bastard, what is he planning now, god fucking damn it!
“Go for it,” Hunter said with a demonic smirk as he swatted David on the rump on his way out of the Den. “You know you want to. One last fuck before the two of you go up in flames. Don’t mention it dude, you truly deserved it.”
The sound of his footsteps faded into the crackling of the fire, broken only by the thud of the heavy door slamming into its frame and the click of the bolt. For the longest time afterwards, all that Michael had to hear was the sound of David’s ragged breaths as he struggled in his restraints.
Mustering what was probably all the life within him that still kept his tattered body for the lack of a better word, alive, Michael screamed to the heavens as he let out a primeval howl of all the anguish that he endured. He screamed at the top of his garbled voice, he screamed until his lungs were raw and on fire, he screamed until it all came out, all the suffering and torment and misery and despair that no single person could possibly handle in a lifetime. He screamed as though his life depended on it, he screamed until he began to weep and laugh. Damn, it all hurts, it all hurts so fucking bad. David got hurt, Stacey got hurt, everybody ended up getting hurt by those bastards and it’s all my fault.
“Michael? Are... are you okay?” David asked weakly with a bit of a cough.
David, he’s still alive at least, you gotta free him, get him out of here. Control yourself, mate, come on now, don’t lose control. Hold the scream back in, don’t let it get the better of you. Help Dave out of this, you owe him that much...
Trying to compose what little that remained of his sanity, Michael painfully pulled himself to a seating position. With one arm broken at the elbow and every one of his fingers on the other hand crushed, it was hard to manage but somehow he did it. He shook off the last few gasps of hysterical laughter, minding the choking smoke wafting from under the door yet not finding it in himself to really give a damn. Why, why me, why David? We’re too good for any of this, we’re not bad people, this isn’t fair!
“D-David?” he finally collected himself enough to say, tears still filling his eyes from the smoke and the injustice of this all.
“Yeah?” David responded with minimal optimism.
“I’m sorry,” Michael said with considerable difficulty as the damage he had received to his chest, throat and jaw made it hard for him to speak at all. “I’m just... I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that all this happened to you. It didn’t have to be this way, it really, it didn’t, this is all my fault. I could have, I should have fixed this, but I didn’t, I... god damn it,” he choked, violently coughing up a mess of mucus and blood. “I just, I just wish none of this happened in the first place, I shouldn’t have brought you here, I should have risked life and limb to get you out of here, but I didn’t, and look at us now, look at how we ended up.”
He laughed bitterly, the hatred and remorse in his voice plainly audible. Remorse intended for David and all that had befallen him, hatred directed at himself and how he could have but didn’t prevent it. Jesus... damn this all to hell.
“Michael, I-“ David started to say as the Australian paused to take a breath.
“Just don’t, don’t lose all hope just yet, because I’m going to get you out of here, you hear me?” Michael went on, seeming to be oblivious to the boy’s interjection. “I’m gonna get you out of here, out of this god forsaken place if it’s the last thing I do.”
He paused again and gasped for air. Shortness of breath, fuck, the smoke inhalation’s definitely getting to you, probably David too. Get this over with quick, just get out of this hell before it’s too late.
Gathering the last strands of his strength and sanity, the boy angrily declared, “I will help you out of this. Come hell or high water, I will help you out of this.”
Pushing his hands off the floor the best he could, Michael tried to get up onto his feet with all the determination in the world. Blinding pain jolted through his system, almost sending him crashing back onto the floor, but he held strong. Fuck, that’s right. Got to keep yourself going, fucking bastards ain’t got nothing on you.
Ambling on over to where David still hung from the ceiling, he could only cringe. Hunter had done a great deal of abuse on David, that much he could figure out for himself, but god... he never imagined it would be anything quite this bad. Jesus, Dave... what in the hell had they done to you?
Simply put, the boy was for the lack of a better word, a mess. Though compared to the Australian he was still in rather good shape, by any other standards the boy looked as though he had gone through hell itself, and in a sense he had. What used to be the softened edges of his facial features was now obscured behind a mess of black and purple bruises, his nose broken with blood trickling from his face onto the front of his shirt. Though he could not and did not want to see for sure, Michael had little doubt that David’s body (and likely his own as well) was also covered in similar marks. His eyes were swollen from tears, though the bruises and swells made it hard for him to tell for sure. With his wrists bound together and held over his head with what looked to be a leather belt, the boy had been suspended from a hook inn the ceiling, the tip of his feet just inches above the floor. One of his wrists jutted at an odd angle (fingers all intact though, all ten of them, thank god for that at least), likely broken from the abuse he had received over the past hour or two.
Staring at the wreck that David now was, Michael could only gape speechlessly. Jesus, Dave, what did they do to you, what in the hell did they do? Bastards, I swear to god I’ll kill them, all of them, every single one of them. Hunt them down and find them and make them suffer, make them wish they had never been born... No, shit no, you gotta help Dave out first, get him out of this place before all else. Don’t let the anger blind you like it did, it won’t get you anywhere. Jesus Christ, all that they did to Dave, that was, they, no don’t focus on that, just get David out of this hell.
Restraining the rage that was once again daring to escape him, Michael could only utter a guttural groan. Blinking to force the tears from his eyes, he felt an urge to let loose and scream, but he did the best that he could to suppress it. Don’t lose it, not here, not now. You’ve got work to do, gotta help Dave...
The smoke was beginning to accrue into an oppressive swathe in the Den, making it hard for him to see past much of anything at all. Still, he could just manage to discern the binds around David’s wrists, the leather belt that had been forcefully tightened around both his wrists. Think you can get it off? Broken elbow, broken fingers, fuck this will be difficult to do, but you gotta do this. How, how am I supposed to do it, fuck if I know but you have to do it anyway. All right, here goes nothing, one, two, three-
With unbelievable pain and effort, the Australian raised his unbroken arm and made for the makeshift restraint that held his friend in place. Scrabbling wildly at the leather belt with his broken fingers, Michael realized through the pain that there was almost no way he could get it off. Shit, this is definitely the worst situation you’ve been in. What to do now, what to do now, what to do-
“Michael,” David coughed and said out loud, seeming to be barely aware of the Australian’s avail attempts to get him free. “Help me!”
“I can’t!” Michael had to force himself to scream with rising panic. “That bastard broke my arm and fingers, I can’t get the belt off!” He did that on purpose, he wants David to die in here, he wants David to die in the fire!
“Help!” David yelled hysterically, his voice wavering with terror. “Get me out of here, somebody, please!”
“I’m trying to!” Michael shot right back in as harsh a tone as he could muster at his friend. “Stop struggling, stop moving around, you’re not helping!”
“No, please, help me!” David was damn near entirely in tears, screaming as he thrashed about in an attempt to escape yet only managing to buck the Australian in his broken ribs. Fuck, fuck, that hurts like hell, fuck!
“Just shut the fuck up!” Michael could barely restrain himself, instead relegating to screaming back at the other boy. “I’m trying my best to free you here, and if you don’t stop moving around like that so help me god I will beat the shit out of you when we do get out of here!”
The boy fell silent, eyes still widened with palpable fear yet beginning to find the first few strands of clarity. Holding one broken finger in front of his lips in a miserable approximation of a quiet gesture, Michael went on, “Look, I’ll figure out some way to get you out of here, out of this mess, but you gotta stop struggling! Okay, just, just see if you can, just make as much noise as you can, see if we can get the attention of the people out there, get somebody to help us!”
“Please, you gotta help me out of this, I don’t want to die here!” David screamed at the top of his lungs. “Somebody please, help us!”
As the boy continued screaming as loud as he possibly could, Michael could only groaned. The situation looked to be hopeless, it really did. What little noise they managed to make was lost behind the crackling of the flames, and the heavy door that barred the way to the Den made it all but entirely impossible for them to escape. Okay, one thing at a time, get Dave off these restraints, get him off these bindings first, then try and get out of here!
Pulling away from the leather belt that might as well be a pair of handcuffs, Michael snarled angrily, more of an animalistic noise of frustration than any coherent complaint. With all the energy that he could muster he tore at the belt, but still the belt was wrapped as tightly as ever around David’s wrists. Whoever had bound him had done a good job, and it took all his will power not to flinch away from the pain jolting through his broken fingers.
“The clasp!” David yelled with tears streaming down his face. “Undo the clasp!”
“Fuck!” Michael growled as he made the realization. Of course, undo the clasp and the whole thing unravels! Goddamnit, what kind of moron are you to not realize that?
Making for the buckle of the leather belt as fast as he could under the circumstances, Michael dug his fingers under the metal clasp, oblivious to the pain it was causing him. With some difficulty he managed to unclasp the buckle, and quickly drew out the end of the belt in one fell swoop. Untying the rest was relatively easy, all he had to do was to disentangle it from David’s wrists. Got it, got it, got it!
With the belt that held him suspended gone, David crashed heavily down onto the floor of the room. Stunned by the turn of events for a moment, he took only the slightest of moments to recover from his stupor and quickly help David to his feet. The loner cradled his broken wrist in pain as Michael, for all the life that was in him, kept the two of them upright and on their feet.
“Fuck!” David screamed in raw pain as he nursed his wrist.
“Come on, we gotta get out of here!” Michael screamed urgently, letting his own ruined hand drop to his side.
Making for the exit of the Den, Michael slammed his entire body’s weight into the door like a battering ram, yet only succeeding in shaking the heavy door in its frame and sending an immense, blinding wave of agony through his body. Overtaken by the crushing pain, the boy’s dead weight lost to gravity and collapsed in a crumpled heap. Shit, that was stupid, damn it hurts like fucking hell.
“It’s locked?” David screamed in reasonable hysterics, grabbing the door knob with his uninjured hand and rattling it with all his strength. “Fuck, it’s locked, it’s locked! We’re going to die here, fuck, the door’s locked!”
Getting to his feet with David’s aid, Michael could only stare hopelessly at the door. After all that they had gone through, getting beaten up to within an inch of his life, getting David out of those restraints, surviving through all the hell that had happened when by all rights he should not have, after all this and this is what they get? So close to escaping, so close to getting out alive, but all the hell that they had gone through for nothing? How is this fair? Where’s the fucking justice in this all?
“No, no, please don’t,” he muttered in despair as he slammed his broken fist into the door. “No, this isn’t possible, no, just, no, no, please, we can’t, we really, no... Fuck, please don’t, please don’t, no, we gotta get out, please...”
“Is, is there a key or something?” David asked with what minimal hope he could still gather.
“Bolt,” Michael responded with a grimace.
“Well, shit,” David could only say.
While the Australian hammered the door with the last of his desperation, David had merely dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands (though he took care to mind the broken wrist). “I guess this is it then,” he admitted resignedly with the greatest of reluctance, “we’re going to die here and that’s it, huh?”
“No - we’re - not,” Michael grunted through tears in between strikes. Finally giving up all together, he continued bitterly, “I promised you I’d get you out, and I’ll see to it that you do escape this. I managed to get through Hunter, get you out of that fucking thing, and, just, I’ll be damned if we don’t make it through this fire. I swear to god I will fucking get you out, and we will, we will make it through.”
In a mix of anger and frustration he kicked the door as hard as he humanly could. While he prayed for the door to then creak open with deliberate slowness and reveal their savior standing proudly on the other end (and it would’ve made a helluva story to tell his grandchildren some day in the distant future), the only occurrence he could tell was the bone in his toe cracking with the force of the strike. Shit, stupid again, ow, that’s gonna hurt like hell and take ages to heal. Fuck, you’re going to die here in this fucking frat house in this fucking fire, your toe’s not going to take time to heal because you’ll be dead!
“I just never thought it would end this way,” David went on apocalyptically, “I never thought it would be like this. I always thought I’d die later in my life, y’know? Like, maybe of cancer, or a quick painless accident, but not like this, fuck definitely not like this.”
“We’re not going to die like this!” Michael declared furiously, looking about the room for something, anything that they could use. No windows, no trapdoors, no secret passages? Come on, not even a fire extinguisher? Shit, we are going to die. No, we’re not, we’re going to live long and prosper, so shut the fuck up and just keep trying to get out of here!
“We’re going to get out of this!” Michael yelled on, though his voice was wavering noticeably this time. “We’re going to get out of this mess, or so help me god I will-“
With a loud splintering noise, a portion of the ceiling gave way, sending a great deal of flaming debris crashing down onto a coffee table below and engulfing it in flames. Michael and David screamed almost at the same time, eyes quickly turning to survey the scene as various ablaze fragments of wood and glass were scattered every which way about the room, beginning to ignite the carpet, the couch, the wallpaper, or any other furniture they could get to. While the imminent embers were of themselves a perturbing thought, they did nothing to compare with the blazing wreckage that had settled where the coffee table had once been.
“Shit!” Michael snarled as the flames began to spread to the couch, licking around an abandoned bottle of vodka before igniting it with a sudden whoosh. “Shit, this is bad, this is fucking bad, what in the hell do we do now?”
“We’re going to die, oh fuck we’re going to die!” David wailed all the louder, gaze fixated at the fire that began to lick its way towards the two.
“Damn it, damn this all to hell!” Michael yelled in fear and despair. “We have to get out, we’ve got to get out of here, god, we have to!”
Though he tried best not to, Michael could not help but hammer the heavy door again and again, further bruising his already rather battered body. With a mixture of tears and blood streaming down his face, the boy found himself repeating the futile action, bashing his fist against the wood until he could no longer even feel the pain emanating from it. He didn’t want to lose what little control he still had over the situation, but even with things dire as they were, he just could not bring himself to give up. With all the sheer rage that he could still muster, he rammed the unbroken elbow of his left arm into the frame of the door - rousing a crack that wasn’t entirely from the cracked bones of the joint.
Choking back a gasp of surprise (as well as a mouthful of soot), he stared at the fissure he had struck in the doorframe. A deep split in the painted frame that gouged out splinters of wood, it looked to be an unbelievably hopeful sign in an unbelievably hopeless situation. Trailing his fingers along the cleft in the wood, he would have took a moment to thank whatever deities existed had the situation been any less critical and the need for escape any less pressing.
With renewed rage and vigor, Michael struck the twisted frame of the door over again and again, insensitive to any pain shooting through his broken fist, partly due to the damaged nerve endings and partly due to the adrenaline clouding his mind. In the back of his mind, he knew if he made it out of this hell, it would be extremely unlikely that he’d ever regain use of his tattered hand for the rest of his life, but all things considered he could not really find it in himself to give a damn. Getting David out of here, that was the priority, and that was what it would cost him...
The frame began to twist further and further with each strike, fragments of wood blasted every which way as he rammed his fist, his elbow, his shoulder into the break. The adrenaline helped a lot with that, and for that much Michael was thankful. Already he could see the slightest of gaps between the wood splinters, the gloom outside the room cast aside by flames so radiant they looked to be glowing a blinding white. It would not be long before they could escape, it would not take long...
Minutes later, Michael let out a victorious yelp as his fist broke clean through the splintered wood. Blood ran free from his crushed fingers and where wooden chips had pierced skin, but he could not possibly care any less. He broke through, he managed to bore a hole through the door against all odds, it wouldn’t be long before he managed to gouge a hole large enough for them to escape, no sir, no it wouldn’t. You can do this, really, you’re the man, you’re the man now, you can do this, you can get us out of here, you can do this...
“M-Michael?” David stuttered just loud enough for him to hear.
Turning to his friend with a look that screamed fervent hope, Michael took the briefest moment to take in the sight. The boy was still on his knees, head raised weakly and looking to be faintly astonished at the sight of Michael with one arm practically torn to shreds with the adrenalized effort. Even in his eyes, Michael could see the glint of firelight reflected from outside the hole of the door. Yes, we can do this together, we’re going to get out of here, yes!
Almost immediately turning back to the hole in the door, Michael dug into the splintery hole, struggling to widen it enough for them to make it through. Damn it, a fist-sized hole’s nowhere near enough, fuck you still gotta enlarge it, make it enough for you two to go through, only how much time do we still have? Doesn’t look to be enough, shit, we might just be fucked. Don’t say that, can’t lose hope just yet, you’re going to make it out of here I swear to god you’re both going to make it out of here. You can do this mate, you can do this.
“I’m going to get you out of this, Dave,” he growled with aggression, “I swear to god I will fucking get you out of this...”
“Michael,” David seemed to have to force the words to come out of his mouth, though all things considered Michael couldn’t really blame him, “y-you know, you can just unlock the b-bolt from the hole?”
Feeling a sudden urge to mentally slap himself for his momentary stupidity, Michael cursed out loud, “Fuck!”
Ceasing the assault on the doorframe altogether and instead just shoving his arm through the hole the best he could, Michael tried his best not to mind the bloody streaks the splintered wood drew along his arm. Instead, the Australian merely groped about, feeling for the metal above where the doorknob would be on the other end. Yes, just, just get it unlocked and it’s all okay, get it unlocked and we’re out of here!
To his horror, his crushed fingers only slipped away from the bolt. Though he had earlier managed to unclasp a belt and punch his fist through a door with the greatest of difficulties, the precise motion required to unlock the bolt all but entirely eluded him. “Fuck, I can’t get it done! Dave, give me a hand here!”
Taking a moment to recover from what looked to him like a mild state of catatonia, David quickly regained his stance and hurried forward. “Here, let me, let me help with that,” David said to his friend as Michael drew his arm back from the hole.
“It’s all yours,” Michael said with the slightest of grimaces as he cradled his bloodied arm, not wanting David to get hurt yet seeing no other alternative. “Just take care, don’t get hurt.”
“All right,” David said as he pushed his arm through the hole, wincing as splinters gouged into his skin. “Here, I got it, I got it, yes!”
The bolt that safeguarded the heavy door to the Den disengaged with the slightest of metallic clinks, effectively freeing the two from the room that had housed much of their torments for the past few hours of their lives. Uttering a garbled cry of thanks, Michael stepped forward and, with David’s help, pressed their shoulders into the door as it inched outwards with a slowness that seemed to be almost deliberate. From beyond the twisted frame of the door came a fiery glow that would have been affectionate if the boys didn’t already know the destruction it was capable of. Still, all things considered, they were in reasonably high spirits. Yes, we’re free, we’re free, we’re gonna escape, take that Hunter, we made it out, we made it home!
Though in most circumstances the two would have raced out of the fraternity house in delight, the fact that both of them were in some intense hurt made it practically impossible for either of them to manage. Though compared to his friend, David was still in top form with three of his four limbs intact (whereas Michael practically had every square inch of his body bruised, cracked, or broken in some way or other), Michael still found himself under David’s right shoulder, doing his limited best to keep the loner on his feet. Whether it was the ordeal they had undergone or simply the fire and smoke taking its toll on the two youngsters, David seemed to find difficulty in even standing and walking as Michael supported his friend’s frame.
“Come on, Dave, we’re going to make it out of this,” Michael said with considerable enthusiasm as they negotiated the turn around the hallway. “We can do this, we can do this, we went through this much, we can do this, we can make it out of here.”
Smiling weakly as he caught what his friend said, David’s facial expression registered almost no surprise as a flaming chunk of rafter crashed down directly behind them, inches away from crushing both their heads in yet managing only to singe their hair.
“We’re going to make it through, just stay strong Dave, we can do this!” Michael went on as though oblivious to how close they had been from their respective demises. Still, he persevered and kept trudging ahead, bringing David along as they rounded another corner and came to the staircase. Taking only a brief moment at the top of the stairs to contemplate the way down (staircase, you can do it), the two made to amble down the stairs, one painful step at a time, taking care not to step into the burning patches of flames in the carpet.
“Th-Thank you so m-much, Michael,” David coughed and said as they made it halfway down the staircase. “Thanks f-for coming b-b-back for me, r-really.”
“What else would I have done, left you here to die?” Michael tried to say with some level of dark humour that failed miserably. “You know me. I won’t leave you behind, I can’t leave you behind.”
“I just w-wanted to l-l-let you know,” David went on to say, “I r-really appreciate all that y-you’ve done for m-me.”
The two remained silent as they reached the bottom of the staircase, the exertion of making it through the fire rendering both of them speechless for a moment. They stopped for a moment to gather their breaths, minding the swathe of smoke that hung about the fraternity house and made it a tremendous effort to even take in a gasp of air. Much of the house was already ablaze, they could see that much, chairs and tables and couches and lamps engulfed by the capacious flames as they rose higher and even higher. Every now and then something within the fire reached ignition point, detonating with sharp bang that scared the two youngsters more than they thought were possible.
“We can make it through,” Michael repeated insistently. “We’re going to make it through this, David, you hear me?”
David responded with a nod that might have been an exhausted loll of his head, but Michael chose to believe in the former.
Taking yet another moment to recover from making their way through the mostly aflame living room, Michael surveyed the scene. Near the front doorway, the flames seemed to have increased in their intensity, roaring and crackling with an almost guttural belch as blasts of gray smoke spilled out from shattered windows. It looked to be the only way out of the fraternity house that he could see, but the flaming pyre in the way made negotiating it all but impossible. Through the flames and smoke he could see the open doorway, the few people who stood outside in dumbstruck stupors, the lawn where pieces of flaming debris scattered about, the vast expanse of darkness in the sky that was dotted only be sporadic sparkles of starlight. Freedom was outside, that much he could see for sure, but to escape they would have to go through the flames themselves, and that would be harder than hell.
“David,” Michael said, breathing heavily with all the smoke that was in the air. “Let’s do this, okay? We can do this, it will be quick and painless, we make it out and it’s all over, we’ll have escaped, gotten the better of those frat boys, so what do you say, let’s do this?”
Looking Michael straight in the eyes with a gaze of deep intensity, David only nodded, more affirmative this time. “Yeah, let’s d-do it,” he forced himself to say.
Okay then, mate, it’s now or never. Either you charge through the fire and get out of here, or you stay here and Dave dies with you. Yeah, if you don’t do anything, you’ll both just end up dead like you never even got out of the Den, and you can’t have that, can you? Now, it’s not that hard, it’ll be easy, just do it, run through blindly like your life depends on it. What are you saying, of course it does, if you don’t do this you’re going to die. You know how, just do it, just do it and get it done, mate, come on... God damn it will you just-
Clenching his eyes shut and holding one arm around David’s waist, he bolted into the fire.
An immense wave of agony seared into his flesh from all that was around him, a ceaseless, intense wave of pain of such torridity that he had never known before. Each breath inhaled only fire and smoke, charring the insides of his mouth and stealing the scream from him before it even escaped from his throat. All that he could see was a fiery blast of black and orange, and all that he could hear was the deafening crackles as the two of them burned. His skin blistered as he thrashed about, the flesh practically melding under the powerful heat of the flames. Even as his mind screamed with pure agony, Michael could only grab David by the waist and shove him forward, sending the burning boy crashing down onto the lawn, where he writhed about in pain as he tried to bat out the flames over him.
That’s it, he’s safe, David got out. Now yourself, just focus every shred of willpower you have, force yourself out of this fire, out of this pain-
Feeling as though every fibre of his being was being wrenched away from his body, Michael hurtled himself through with the most violent of screams. Though he did stumble on the doorframe, it did not take long before he joined his friend on the lawn outside, immediately collapsing into a crumpled heap. The air that by all rights should have been sweltering was now cool to the touch, almost distracting him from the fact that the few seconds he had spent in the fire had left second and third degree burns over much of his body. With the last of smoldering flames still dancing from his body and refusing to be smothered, Michael found himself in great agony, but you’re still alive, yeah, you’re still alive. Just, just stop drop and roll, like they taught you, beat out the flames.
Exercising the determination that had carried him through the bulk of the night, Michael brought himself to roll around the grass on the lawn as he desperately tried to bat out the flames. Yes, that’s it, just do it, just roll and get the flames off you, get them to smother out so you can go help Dave, go find Stacey, go get somebody to help you.
Groaning in more pain than anybody was ever meant to feel in a lifetime, Michael forced himself to pull himself up to an approximation of a seated position. With some difficulty (though compared to what he had already gone through that was likely near nothing) he managed to drag himself along the lawn, leaving a charred, smoldering path in the grass. David, go help him, he’s still in pain, he’s still on fire.
Michael looked over to the downed boy with some hope that everything would be all right now that they had made it out of the fraternity house. “Jesus, Dave, are you okay?” he tried to say, though what came out was a guttural croak that sent pain along the insides of his throat. Shit, those are definitely burns, you’re going to be spending a long time in the hospital mate, but at least David’s okay, right?
“David,” he forced himself to whisper as he painfully beat out the last of the flames. “Come on, you’re okay, just, just come on, they’ll be here soon, they’ll take us to the hospital and everything will be okay... David?”
The boy did not reply. Oh god.
With anguish coursing in his veins, Michael crawled over to his friend’s side, all cognitive thoughts now beyond him. Feeling almost as though the whole world had fallen out from underneath him, the Australian found everything that he had ever known vanishing from his world. He was close to bawling, feeling tears streak their way down his face yet hardly giving a damn at all. He could not die, not now, not ever. After all that they had gone through, everything they had done, surviving so much that would have had any lesser man in defeat, and after all this, the fire took him away? No, this could not happen, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, David was okay, that much was sure. You can’t do this god, you’ve done so many wrong things, so many fucked up things and I haven’t complained, put us in this and fucked with our lives so many times, but you can’t do this, not David, not him please god, you owe him better than that, you owe him better...
Still the boy did not respond in any way, shape or form.
Why, god damn it why, he should have lived, no, not him, it should have been me! He should have lived, he deserved so much better than this, oh god damn it please don’t, please, it was bad enough back there, don’t make this any worse... Why, just, why did he have to go like this, why did he have to go at all? He deserves better, you owe him better! Just, I saved him damn it, I brought him out of that house against all odds when we should have died in there, so why him, why now? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ALL ABOU-
“...Mikey?”
Nothing was going to be the same.
Part 2
Title: Into the Haze
Author: ciwey
Rating: NC-17 for excessive swearing and depiction of violence
Summary: A night at the Gamma Rho Fraternity House turns out to be hell.
Disclaimer: This never happened.
Author’s Notes: Angsty College!Mavid. Based on the Cold Case episode "The Promise". Comments and constructive criticisms are very much appreciated. :)
Present.
Getting back into the real world with a look of pure determination in his eyes, Michael Lee found himself cursing at the injustice of this all. By all rights, this shouldn’t have happened to people like them, like David, like Stacey, like himself. True, they weren’t the most good-hearted of people, but most certainly not the worst either, just individuals trying to get by in a harsh and unfair life without screwing things up too much. They never went out of their way to hurt other people, almost always did all that they could to avoid inconveniencing people, acted with common decency towards others at the very least, but still, this fucking thing happened. It was unfair, there was no question about that, nothing that had happened tonight was reasonable at all. They didn’t deserve this, none of them did, not himself, not Stacey, and certainly not David.
But still it happened, still those bastards came by and tore us to fucking shreds. There is no justice in this world, I swear to fucking god, no justice at all. David... he’s a good guy, no doubt about that, but the bastards took advantage of that and decided to fuck him up just for the heck of it, fucked him up real bad and now you don’t even know where the hell he is. Stacey as well, she’s as sweet a girl as it comes, no reason for this horrible... event to befall her. But they hurt her too, they hurt them both, and if that’s not fucking injustice, I don’t know what it is.
He laughed bitterly at the thought, coughing up a fair amount of blood and feeling a shifting pressure in his chest. It was unfair, life was unfair, but as much as he cursed and screamed and fought back at the grand scheme of things nothing would change. Everything that had already happened earlier that night had, well, already happened, and as much as he resented the way things turned out, there was no way to amend the past. It was likely for the best that he just went on and try his best to fix things up, repair what those goddamn bastards had destroyed. Best find David fast, get him out of this huge mess you got him into in the first place.
That was the sole fact that hurt the most. All that had happened to David and Stacey would not have happened had he not brought them along in the first place, but Jesus Christ how was I supposed to know that things would turn out this way, that those bastards would fuck everything up?
It wasn’t fair, plain and simple, but nothing would ever change now. All he could do now was to find David, get Stacey, and get the hell out of this place.
Forcing himself to ignore the pain that shot through his system with each step (everything hurts like hell, but there’s nothing you can do about it at this point), Michael forced himself to continue making his slow and agonizing way along the smoke-filled hallway. Each breath was more of an effort than the last, each gasp of air bringing in more smoke and soot than oxygen. All the while the fire burned and crackled merrily around him, consuming what little remained of the oxygen in the air. He had put on as valiant an effort as was within the limits of his current battered condition, but with the conflagration that the fraternity house had all but erupted into and the hurt that his body had already had to endure, it didn’t take a medical expert to note that his physical condition was rapidly deteriorating. Still... you can’t just up and leave now, you gotta keep going on. It all depends on you now, can you hold long enough to make it through or will this take you down once and for all? This has to be it, no chance for you to quit or fall back, you’ve got to keep fighting, do all that you can to-
“What the fuck,” a familiar male voice barely registered over the fire with what Michael took to be immense surprise.
Spinning around on his feet as quick as he could (which admittedly wasn’t that quick at all), Michael winced and cried out in pain as the sudden movement sent a sharp ripple of agony through him. Still, the boy remained rather alert of what he saw before him, and as his eyes met those of the speaker, the rage and aggression that had been building up and yet he had suppressed for the most part erupted with such intensity that Nick Hunter, for all his twenty odd years of wrath, violence and varsity wrestling, had never even seen anything particularly close to it.
With an intense look that showcased the sheer rage that was within him, Michael stood tensely with the slightest of hunches, looking as though he was battered and bloodied in more ways than a human body should be able to survive, yet still managing to come across more intimidating than he had ever been. Hunter, on the other hand, looked to be almost flinching from the combined sight of the enraged Australian and the blaze that raged away all over the fraternity house. It almost escaped Michael’s notice that behind the college athlete was a half-open door from which he could see David’s ragged and exhausted form in the room beyond, hanging lifelessly from the ceiling by his bound wrists.
Oh god.
“What the fuck?” Hunter exclaimed not without certain terror in his voice, all a sudden seeming not as much the daunting guy he had been for the majority of his life. “The fucking house is on fire, Jesus Christ! I mean, fucking hell, it’s burning down, Jesus, where did everybody go? What the
“Get out of my way,” Michael could only mumble with spite through cracked and bloody lips. Almost without paying any heed to the other man, Michael struggled to restrain his emotions as he made for David in slow steps. Keep the rage in check, getting mad won’t do you any good now, someday you’re gonna kill this bastard for what he did but not today, not now. Don’t lose sight of what you came back for, you’re just here to get David to safety, no more, no less-
“I asked you what in the fucking hell is going on!” Hunter practically roared in his face, shoving the Australian backwards with both hands. “Jesus, why is the fucking house on fire? What happened, who the fuck did this, I’ll fuck that fucker up, I swear to god I will fucking kill that-”
“I said get the fuck out of my way, you sick son of a bitch!” Michael screamed with all the contempt that he could muster, the exertion of it causing him to cough more explosively, blood spraying from his lips as his chest constricted in unbelievable pain. Still he held his ground, gaze trained spitefully on the other man as he spat out each word with all the bitterness and resentment that was in the world, “You know what, Hunter? Fuck you. Fuck you and fuck Gamma Rho. You guys think that you’re the shit, that you get the right to do whatever you want to, that you can take advantage of everybody else, that you can put people through hell and treat them like shit just because they’re different? Well, you’re not. You guys are nothing but a bunch of fucking jerks, and I don’t need this anymore. I’ve seen you for the jackasses you really are, and I don’t-”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think!” Hunter hollered again in a mix of rage and confusion. Narrowing his eyes and glaring at the Australian, he accused, “You did this, didn’t you? You tried to burn the fucking house down just because we put down your fag of a friend?”
“FUCK YOU!” Michael howled at the top of his lungs. “You had no right to do anything that you did, you had no fucking right at all! You abused him, broke him, and I’ll see to it that you’ll pay for this to your very last breath, you fucker!”
Letting the pure infuriation that he had kept restrained within him explode into a powerful rage, Michael hurled the entirety of his body weight into the varsity wrestler’s muscular frame, fists pummeling away at anything that he could reach with every last bit of strength he could possibly muster. Taken off guard, Hunter could only yelp as a flurry of blows to his torso sent him crashing backwards onto the floor. Though the boy’s physical condition was not the best in the world, the sheer vehemence of his furor was more than enough to make up for it. With all the force of his body placed behind each punch, Michael lashed out again and again, what looked to be blind fury flaring in his eyes (though in reality likely the smoke inhalation rendering his vision hazy at best). He found himself coming damn near to losing the last pure strands of his sanity, but for the life of him he couldn’t care less. Hurt the smug bastard, tear him apart with your bare hands, bleed him out to death and rip him to shreds. Make him pay for everything he did, for all that he had done to Dave and the others!
“Get - the - fuck - offa me!” Hunter grunted in between strikes as Michael grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifted his head up from the floor and slammed it back down into the floorboard with all his strength, bloodying the back of the wrestler’s scalp.
In what was likely a subconscious attempt to hold back the Australian’s ceaseless assail, Hunter brought his knee up with driving force, effectively slamming his kneecap into the boy’s groin. Michael howled with immense agony as the pain overtook everything, the great strength that he had possessed seemingly all evaporated as he allowed Hunter to shove him aside.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hunter gasped, wincing and minding the mess of bruises over his mid-section as he cautiously got to his feet.
“What the fuck is wrong with you fucker?” Hunter snarled at the top of his voice, landing a vicious kick square in the Australian’s face that would’ve shattered his nose in a mess of bone and cartilage had it not already been broken. Michael whimpered as his world became one of sheer agony, the unbelievable pain all that he knew anymore even as Hunter delivered several more strikes in rapid succession, the first two landing heavy blows to his fractured and broken ribs, the third hitting his jaw with a spray of blood and teeth, then once more at his elbow where the force of the kick shattered the bone of the joint. Stomping as hard as he could onto Michael’s hand (and crushing every one of his fingers) for good measure, Hunter gathered his saliva and spit onto the side of the Australian’s face.
“Fuck you,” Hunter could only snarl as he stood over the downed man, beginning to pant with the exertion of fighting off the assault and the smoke that was starting to choke. “You think you’re better than me, huh you son of a bitch? You think you and that fag’s worth anything? Tell me, how does it feel? How does it feel, pussy boy? You hurtin’ something fierce? ‘Cause I’m on the top of the world here, I’m just about as good as it gets. You and that fag, you’re nothing. So don’t you even fucking dare to-“
“M-Michael?” a voice said weakly from behind him in the middle of the wrestler’s tirade, barely even audible over the fire.
Sprawled out on the floor in a mess of blood and broken bones, Michael could only raise his head for the slightest bit at the sound of the voice. Though he had been trounced, trampled and tortured beyond the limits of human endurance and was feeling some of the most vicious pain people were never meant to feel, hearing the voice brought what felt like a dim level of hope to what looked to be a dire situation. Looking up pleadingly, he caught sight of David’s hapless gaze as the loner still struggled to free himself from his bindings. Michael tried to cry his name, tried to form words with his lips but failing dismally as dark, viscous blood gushed out of his mouth. Instead, he mouthed the two words that had been on his mind ever since... ever since this all happened.
I’m sorry-
“So you’re awake, faggot?” Hunter sneered, regaining some of his previous arrogance yet still somewhat fearful of the raging fire at the same time. “You were a good fuck while it lasted, I’ll give you that much.”
Michael’s eyes widened with a renewed rage, but with his body in some of the worst conditions a human body has ever withstood he could not find any strength inside himself to fight back. The will was there, the determination was there, the rage was there, he just could not find the energy to do it. Bastard, that fucking bastard! How dare he, how dare he hurt David, that sick bastard hurt him, used him, fuck!
“Yeah, you heard me right cocksucker,” Hunter went on in a sharp tone as he none too gently nudged Michael in his side. “Fucked the faggot. Hey, what can I say, a hole is a hole, right? So whaddya think, betcha would’ve loved to go for sloppy seconds huh? Is that it, pussy boy? Is that why you were so worked up? You wanted to be the one to break him in, the first guy to shag the fag?”
Why, fucking why, why did this have to happen to somebody as good as David? Why, god, why in the hell? Is there no justice in the world? WHY, GODDAMNIT WHY?!
“Bet that was it, huh?” Hunter said idly with a bit of a laugh as Michael used the last of his strength to roll over onto his back. “Wanted to shag the fag so bad you couldn’t have waited. Though that’s not unjustified I guess, fag boy was a good fuck, like cunt, fuckin’ cunt. Well, let it never be said that I’m one to deny anybody a fuck when they want one.”
Grabbing hold of Michael’s right arm by his shattered elbow, Hunter hauled the dead weight of the Australian’s body along with enough force to dislocate his shoulder and leave a helluva trail of blood on the floorboards. Hardly putting up any resistance as the college athlete bodily dragged him along into the room David was in, Michael instead weakly did his best to dig his broken fingers into the floor. With a heave or two, Hunter stood back with a great look of perverse satisfaction on his face as he surveyed the condition Michael was in. Fucking bastard, what is he planning now, god fucking damn it!
“Go for it,” Hunter said with a demonic smirk as he swatted David on the rump on his way out of the Den. “You know you want to. One last fuck before the two of you go up in flames. Don’t mention it dude, you truly deserved it.”
The sound of his footsteps faded into the crackling of the fire, broken only by the thud of the heavy door slamming into its frame and the click of the bolt. For the longest time afterwards, all that Michael had to hear was the sound of David’s ragged breaths as he struggled in his restraints.
Mustering what was probably all the life within him that still kept his tattered body for the lack of a better word, alive, Michael screamed to the heavens as he let out a primeval howl of all the anguish that he endured. He screamed at the top of his garbled voice, he screamed until his lungs were raw and on fire, he screamed until it all came out, all the suffering and torment and misery and despair that no single person could possibly handle in a lifetime. He screamed as though his life depended on it, he screamed until he began to weep and laugh. Damn, it all hurts, it all hurts so fucking bad. David got hurt, Stacey got hurt, everybody ended up getting hurt by those bastards and it’s all my fault.
“Michael? Are... are you okay?” David asked weakly with a bit of a cough.
David, he’s still alive at least, you gotta free him, get him out of here. Control yourself, mate, come on now, don’t lose control. Hold the scream back in, don’t let it get the better of you. Help Dave out of this, you owe him that much...
Trying to compose what little that remained of his sanity, Michael painfully pulled himself to a seating position. With one arm broken at the elbow and every one of his fingers on the other hand crushed, it was hard to manage but somehow he did it. He shook off the last few gasps of hysterical laughter, minding the choking smoke wafting from under the door yet not finding it in himself to really give a damn. Why, why me, why David? We’re too good for any of this, we’re not bad people, this isn’t fair!
“D-David?” he finally collected himself enough to say, tears still filling his eyes from the smoke and the injustice of this all.
“Yeah?” David responded with minimal optimism.
“I’m sorry,” Michael said with considerable difficulty as the damage he had received to his chest, throat and jaw made it hard for him to speak at all. “I’m just... I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that all this happened to you. It didn’t have to be this way, it really, it didn’t, this is all my fault. I could have, I should have fixed this, but I didn’t, I... god damn it,” he choked, violently coughing up a mess of mucus and blood. “I just, I just wish none of this happened in the first place, I shouldn’t have brought you here, I should have risked life and limb to get you out of here, but I didn’t, and look at us now, look at how we ended up.”
He laughed bitterly, the hatred and remorse in his voice plainly audible. Remorse intended for David and all that had befallen him, hatred directed at himself and how he could have but didn’t prevent it. Jesus... damn this all to hell.
“Michael, I-“ David started to say as the Australian paused to take a breath.
“Just don’t, don’t lose all hope just yet, because I’m going to get you out of here, you hear me?” Michael went on, seeming to be oblivious to the boy’s interjection. “I’m gonna get you out of here, out of this god forsaken place if it’s the last thing I do.”
He paused again and gasped for air. Shortness of breath, fuck, the smoke inhalation’s definitely getting to you, probably David too. Get this over with quick, just get out of this hell before it’s too late.
Gathering the last strands of his strength and sanity, the boy angrily declared, “I will help you out of this. Come hell or high water, I will help you out of this.”
Pushing his hands off the floor the best he could, Michael tried to get up onto his feet with all the determination in the world. Blinding pain jolted through his system, almost sending him crashing back onto the floor, but he held strong. Fuck, that’s right. Got to keep yourself going, fucking bastards ain’t got nothing on you.
Ambling on over to where David still hung from the ceiling, he could only cringe. Hunter had done a great deal of abuse on David, that much he could figure out for himself, but god... he never imagined it would be anything quite this bad. Jesus, Dave... what in the hell had they done to you?
Simply put, the boy was for the lack of a better word, a mess. Though compared to the Australian he was still in rather good shape, by any other standards the boy looked as though he had gone through hell itself, and in a sense he had. What used to be the softened edges of his facial features was now obscured behind a mess of black and purple bruises, his nose broken with blood trickling from his face onto the front of his shirt. Though he could not and did not want to see for sure, Michael had little doubt that David’s body (and likely his own as well) was also covered in similar marks. His eyes were swollen from tears, though the bruises and swells made it hard for him to tell for sure. With his wrists bound together and held over his head with what looked to be a leather belt, the boy had been suspended from a hook inn the ceiling, the tip of his feet just inches above the floor. One of his wrists jutted at an odd angle (fingers all intact though, all ten of them, thank god for that at least), likely broken from the abuse he had received over the past hour or two.
Staring at the wreck that David now was, Michael could only gape speechlessly. Jesus, Dave, what did they do to you, what in the hell did they do? Bastards, I swear to god I’ll kill them, all of them, every single one of them. Hunt them down and find them and make them suffer, make them wish they had never been born... No, shit no, you gotta help Dave out first, get him out of this place before all else. Don’t let the anger blind you like it did, it won’t get you anywhere. Jesus Christ, all that they did to Dave, that was, they, no don’t focus on that, just get David out of this hell.
Restraining the rage that was once again daring to escape him, Michael could only utter a guttural groan. Blinking to force the tears from his eyes, he felt an urge to let loose and scream, but he did the best that he could to suppress it. Don’t lose it, not here, not now. You’ve got work to do, gotta help Dave...
The smoke was beginning to accrue into an oppressive swathe in the Den, making it hard for him to see past much of anything at all. Still, he could just manage to discern the binds around David’s wrists, the leather belt that had been forcefully tightened around both his wrists. Think you can get it off? Broken elbow, broken fingers, fuck this will be difficult to do, but you gotta do this. How, how am I supposed to do it, fuck if I know but you have to do it anyway. All right, here goes nothing, one, two, three-
With unbelievable pain and effort, the Australian raised his unbroken arm and made for the makeshift restraint that held his friend in place. Scrabbling wildly at the leather belt with his broken fingers, Michael realized through the pain that there was almost no way he could get it off. Shit, this is definitely the worst situation you’ve been in. What to do now, what to do now, what to do-
“Michael,” David coughed and said out loud, seeming to be barely aware of the Australian’s avail attempts to get him free. “Help me!”
“I can’t!” Michael had to force himself to scream with rising panic. “That bastard broke my arm and fingers, I can’t get the belt off!” He did that on purpose, he wants David to die in here, he wants David to die in the fire!
“Help!” David yelled hysterically, his voice wavering with terror. “Get me out of here, somebody, please!”
“I’m trying to!” Michael shot right back in as harsh a tone as he could muster at his friend. “Stop struggling, stop moving around, you’re not helping!”
“No, please, help me!” David was damn near entirely in tears, screaming as he thrashed about in an attempt to escape yet only managing to buck the Australian in his broken ribs. Fuck, fuck, that hurts like hell, fuck!
“Just shut the fuck up!” Michael could barely restrain himself, instead relegating to screaming back at the other boy. “I’m trying my best to free you here, and if you don’t stop moving around like that so help me god I will beat the shit out of you when we do get out of here!”
The boy fell silent, eyes still widened with palpable fear yet beginning to find the first few strands of clarity. Holding one broken finger in front of his lips in a miserable approximation of a quiet gesture, Michael went on, “Look, I’ll figure out some way to get you out of here, out of this mess, but you gotta stop struggling! Okay, just, just see if you can, just make as much noise as you can, see if we can get the attention of the people out there, get somebody to help us!”
“Please, you gotta help me out of this, I don’t want to die here!” David screamed at the top of his lungs. “Somebody please, help us!”
As the boy continued screaming as loud as he possibly could, Michael could only groaned. The situation looked to be hopeless, it really did. What little noise they managed to make was lost behind the crackling of the flames, and the heavy door that barred the way to the Den made it all but entirely impossible for them to escape. Okay, one thing at a time, get Dave off these restraints, get him off these bindings first, then try and get out of here!
Pulling away from the leather belt that might as well be a pair of handcuffs, Michael snarled angrily, more of an animalistic noise of frustration than any coherent complaint. With all the energy that he could muster he tore at the belt, but still the belt was wrapped as tightly as ever around David’s wrists. Whoever had bound him had done a good job, and it took all his will power not to flinch away from the pain jolting through his broken fingers.
“The clasp!” David yelled with tears streaming down his face. “Undo the clasp!”
“Fuck!” Michael growled as he made the realization. Of course, undo the clasp and the whole thing unravels! Goddamnit, what kind of moron are you to not realize that?
Making for the buckle of the leather belt as fast as he could under the circumstances, Michael dug his fingers under the metal clasp, oblivious to the pain it was causing him. With some difficulty he managed to unclasp the buckle, and quickly drew out the end of the belt in one fell swoop. Untying the rest was relatively easy, all he had to do was to disentangle it from David’s wrists. Got it, got it, got it!
With the belt that held him suspended gone, David crashed heavily down onto the floor of the room. Stunned by the turn of events for a moment, he took only the slightest of moments to recover from his stupor and quickly help David to his feet. The loner cradled his broken wrist in pain as Michael, for all the life that was in him, kept the two of them upright and on their feet.
“Fuck!” David screamed in raw pain as he nursed his wrist.
“Come on, we gotta get out of here!” Michael screamed urgently, letting his own ruined hand drop to his side.
Making for the exit of the Den, Michael slammed his entire body’s weight into the door like a battering ram, yet only succeeding in shaking the heavy door in its frame and sending an immense, blinding wave of agony through his body. Overtaken by the crushing pain, the boy’s dead weight lost to gravity and collapsed in a crumpled heap. Shit, that was stupid, damn it hurts like fucking hell.
“It’s locked?” David screamed in reasonable hysterics, grabbing the door knob with his uninjured hand and rattling it with all his strength. “Fuck, it’s locked, it’s locked! We’re going to die here, fuck, the door’s locked!”
Getting to his feet with David’s aid, Michael could only stare hopelessly at the door. After all that they had gone through, getting beaten up to within an inch of his life, getting David out of those restraints, surviving through all the hell that had happened when by all rights he should not have, after all this and this is what they get? So close to escaping, so close to getting out alive, but all the hell that they had gone through for nothing? How is this fair? Where’s the fucking justice in this all?
“No, no, please don’t,” he muttered in despair as he slammed his broken fist into the door. “No, this isn’t possible, no, just, no, no, please, we can’t, we really, no... Fuck, please don’t, please don’t, no, we gotta get out, please...”
“Is, is there a key or something?” David asked with what minimal hope he could still gather.
“Bolt,” Michael responded with a grimace.
“Well, shit,” David could only say.
While the Australian hammered the door with the last of his desperation, David had merely dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands (though he took care to mind the broken wrist). “I guess this is it then,” he admitted resignedly with the greatest of reluctance, “we’re going to die here and that’s it, huh?”
“No - we’re - not,” Michael grunted through tears in between strikes. Finally giving up all together, he continued bitterly, “I promised you I’d get you out, and I’ll see to it that you do escape this. I managed to get through Hunter, get you out of that fucking thing, and, just, I’ll be damned if we don’t make it through this fire. I swear to god I will fucking get you out, and we will, we will make it through.”
In a mix of anger and frustration he kicked the door as hard as he humanly could. While he prayed for the door to then creak open with deliberate slowness and reveal their savior standing proudly on the other end (and it would’ve made a helluva story to tell his grandchildren some day in the distant future), the only occurrence he could tell was the bone in his toe cracking with the force of the strike. Shit, stupid again, ow, that’s gonna hurt like hell and take ages to heal. Fuck, you’re going to die here in this fucking frat house in this fucking fire, your toe’s not going to take time to heal because you’ll be dead!
“I just never thought it would end this way,” David went on apocalyptically, “I never thought it would be like this. I always thought I’d die later in my life, y’know? Like, maybe of cancer, or a quick painless accident, but not like this, fuck definitely not like this.”
“We’re not going to die like this!” Michael declared furiously, looking about the room for something, anything that they could use. No windows, no trapdoors, no secret passages? Come on, not even a fire extinguisher? Shit, we are going to die. No, we’re not, we’re going to live long and prosper, so shut the fuck up and just keep trying to get out of here!
“We’re going to get out of this!” Michael yelled on, though his voice was wavering noticeably this time. “We’re going to get out of this mess, or so help me god I will-“
With a loud splintering noise, a portion of the ceiling gave way, sending a great deal of flaming debris crashing down onto a coffee table below and engulfing it in flames. Michael and David screamed almost at the same time, eyes quickly turning to survey the scene as various ablaze fragments of wood and glass were scattered every which way about the room, beginning to ignite the carpet, the couch, the wallpaper, or any other furniture they could get to. While the imminent embers were of themselves a perturbing thought, they did nothing to compare with the blazing wreckage that had settled where the coffee table had once been.
“Shit!” Michael snarled as the flames began to spread to the couch, licking around an abandoned bottle of vodka before igniting it with a sudden whoosh. “Shit, this is bad, this is fucking bad, what in the hell do we do now?”
“We’re going to die, oh fuck we’re going to die!” David wailed all the louder, gaze fixated at the fire that began to lick its way towards the two.
“Damn it, damn this all to hell!” Michael yelled in fear and despair. “We have to get out, we’ve got to get out of here, god, we have to!”
Though he tried best not to, Michael could not help but hammer the heavy door again and again, further bruising his already rather battered body. With a mixture of tears and blood streaming down his face, the boy found himself repeating the futile action, bashing his fist against the wood until he could no longer even feel the pain emanating from it. He didn’t want to lose what little control he still had over the situation, but even with things dire as they were, he just could not bring himself to give up. With all the sheer rage that he could still muster, he rammed the unbroken elbow of his left arm into the frame of the door - rousing a crack that wasn’t entirely from the cracked bones of the joint.
Choking back a gasp of surprise (as well as a mouthful of soot), he stared at the fissure he had struck in the doorframe. A deep split in the painted frame that gouged out splinters of wood, it looked to be an unbelievably hopeful sign in an unbelievably hopeless situation. Trailing his fingers along the cleft in the wood, he would have took a moment to thank whatever deities existed had the situation been any less critical and the need for escape any less pressing.
With renewed rage and vigor, Michael struck the twisted frame of the door over again and again, insensitive to any pain shooting through his broken fist, partly due to the damaged nerve endings and partly due to the adrenaline clouding his mind. In the back of his mind, he knew if he made it out of this hell, it would be extremely unlikely that he’d ever regain use of his tattered hand for the rest of his life, but all things considered he could not really find it in himself to give a damn. Getting David out of here, that was the priority, and that was what it would cost him...
The frame began to twist further and further with each strike, fragments of wood blasted every which way as he rammed his fist, his elbow, his shoulder into the break. The adrenaline helped a lot with that, and for that much Michael was thankful. Already he could see the slightest of gaps between the wood splinters, the gloom outside the room cast aside by flames so radiant they looked to be glowing a blinding white. It would not be long before they could escape, it would not take long...
Minutes later, Michael let out a victorious yelp as his fist broke clean through the splintered wood. Blood ran free from his crushed fingers and where wooden chips had pierced skin, but he could not possibly care any less. He broke through, he managed to bore a hole through the door against all odds, it wouldn’t be long before he managed to gouge a hole large enough for them to escape, no sir, no it wouldn’t. You can do this, really, you’re the man, you’re the man now, you can do this, you can get us out of here, you can do this...
“M-Michael?” David stuttered just loud enough for him to hear.
Turning to his friend with a look that screamed fervent hope, Michael took the briefest moment to take in the sight. The boy was still on his knees, head raised weakly and looking to be faintly astonished at the sight of Michael with one arm practically torn to shreds with the adrenalized effort. Even in his eyes, Michael could see the glint of firelight reflected from outside the hole of the door. Yes, we can do this together, we’re going to get out of here, yes!
Almost immediately turning back to the hole in the door, Michael dug into the splintery hole, struggling to widen it enough for them to make it through. Damn it, a fist-sized hole’s nowhere near enough, fuck you still gotta enlarge it, make it enough for you two to go through, only how much time do we still have? Doesn’t look to be enough, shit, we might just be fucked. Don’t say that, can’t lose hope just yet, you’re going to make it out of here I swear to god you’re both going to make it out of here. You can do this mate, you can do this.
“I’m going to get you out of this, Dave,” he growled with aggression, “I swear to god I will fucking get you out of this...”
“Michael,” David seemed to have to force the words to come out of his mouth, though all things considered Michael couldn’t really blame him, “y-you know, you can just unlock the b-bolt from the hole?”
Feeling a sudden urge to mentally slap himself for his momentary stupidity, Michael cursed out loud, “Fuck!”
Ceasing the assault on the doorframe altogether and instead just shoving his arm through the hole the best he could, Michael tried his best not to mind the bloody streaks the splintered wood drew along his arm. Instead, the Australian merely groped about, feeling for the metal above where the doorknob would be on the other end. Yes, just, just get it unlocked and it’s all okay, get it unlocked and we’re out of here!
To his horror, his crushed fingers only slipped away from the bolt. Though he had earlier managed to unclasp a belt and punch his fist through a door with the greatest of difficulties, the precise motion required to unlock the bolt all but entirely eluded him. “Fuck, I can’t get it done! Dave, give me a hand here!”
Taking a moment to recover from what looked to him like a mild state of catatonia, David quickly regained his stance and hurried forward. “Here, let me, let me help with that,” David said to his friend as Michael drew his arm back from the hole.
“It’s all yours,” Michael said with the slightest of grimaces as he cradled his bloodied arm, not wanting David to get hurt yet seeing no other alternative. “Just take care, don’t get hurt.”
“All right,” David said as he pushed his arm through the hole, wincing as splinters gouged into his skin. “Here, I got it, I got it, yes!”
The bolt that safeguarded the heavy door to the Den disengaged with the slightest of metallic clinks, effectively freeing the two from the room that had housed much of their torments for the past few hours of their lives. Uttering a garbled cry of thanks, Michael stepped forward and, with David’s help, pressed their shoulders into the door as it inched outwards with a slowness that seemed to be almost deliberate. From beyond the twisted frame of the door came a fiery glow that would have been affectionate if the boys didn’t already know the destruction it was capable of. Still, all things considered, they were in reasonably high spirits. Yes, we’re free, we’re free, we’re gonna escape, take that Hunter, we made it out, we made it home!
Though in most circumstances the two would have raced out of the fraternity house in delight, the fact that both of them were in some intense hurt made it practically impossible for either of them to manage. Though compared to his friend, David was still in top form with three of his four limbs intact (whereas Michael practically had every square inch of his body bruised, cracked, or broken in some way or other), Michael still found himself under David’s right shoulder, doing his limited best to keep the loner on his feet. Whether it was the ordeal they had undergone or simply the fire and smoke taking its toll on the two youngsters, David seemed to find difficulty in even standing and walking as Michael supported his friend’s frame.
“Come on, Dave, we’re going to make it out of this,” Michael said with considerable enthusiasm as they negotiated the turn around the hallway. “We can do this, we can do this, we went through this much, we can do this, we can make it out of here.”
Smiling weakly as he caught what his friend said, David’s facial expression registered almost no surprise as a flaming chunk of rafter crashed down directly behind them, inches away from crushing both their heads in yet managing only to singe their hair.
“We’re going to make it through, just stay strong Dave, we can do this!” Michael went on as though oblivious to how close they had been from their respective demises. Still, he persevered and kept trudging ahead, bringing David along as they rounded another corner and came to the staircase. Taking only a brief moment at the top of the stairs to contemplate the way down (staircase, you can do it), the two made to amble down the stairs, one painful step at a time, taking care not to step into the burning patches of flames in the carpet.
“Th-Thank you so m-much, Michael,” David coughed and said as they made it halfway down the staircase. “Thanks f-for coming b-b-back for me, r-really.”
“What else would I have done, left you here to die?” Michael tried to say with some level of dark humour that failed miserably. “You know me. I won’t leave you behind, I can’t leave you behind.”
“I just w-wanted to l-l-let you know,” David went on to say, “I r-really appreciate all that y-you’ve done for m-me.”
The two remained silent as they reached the bottom of the staircase, the exertion of making it through the fire rendering both of them speechless for a moment. They stopped for a moment to gather their breaths, minding the swathe of smoke that hung about the fraternity house and made it a tremendous effort to even take in a gasp of air. Much of the house was already ablaze, they could see that much, chairs and tables and couches and lamps engulfed by the capacious flames as they rose higher and even higher. Every now and then something within the fire reached ignition point, detonating with sharp bang that scared the two youngsters more than they thought were possible.
“We can make it through,” Michael repeated insistently. “We’re going to make it through this, David, you hear me?”
David responded with a nod that might have been an exhausted loll of his head, but Michael chose to believe in the former.
Taking yet another moment to recover from making their way through the mostly aflame living room, Michael surveyed the scene. Near the front doorway, the flames seemed to have increased in their intensity, roaring and crackling with an almost guttural belch as blasts of gray smoke spilled out from shattered windows. It looked to be the only way out of the fraternity house that he could see, but the flaming pyre in the way made negotiating it all but impossible. Through the flames and smoke he could see the open doorway, the few people who stood outside in dumbstruck stupors, the lawn where pieces of flaming debris scattered about, the vast expanse of darkness in the sky that was dotted only be sporadic sparkles of starlight. Freedom was outside, that much he could see for sure, but to escape they would have to go through the flames themselves, and that would be harder than hell.
“David,” Michael said, breathing heavily with all the smoke that was in the air. “Let’s do this, okay? We can do this, it will be quick and painless, we make it out and it’s all over, we’ll have escaped, gotten the better of those frat boys, so what do you say, let’s do this?”
Looking Michael straight in the eyes with a gaze of deep intensity, David only nodded, more affirmative this time. “Yeah, let’s d-do it,” he forced himself to say.
Okay then, mate, it’s now or never. Either you charge through the fire and get out of here, or you stay here and Dave dies with you. Yeah, if you don’t do anything, you’ll both just end up dead like you never even got out of the Den, and you can’t have that, can you? Now, it’s not that hard, it’ll be easy, just do it, run through blindly like your life depends on it. What are you saying, of course it does, if you don’t do this you’re going to die. You know how, just do it, just do it and get it done, mate, come on... God damn it will you just-
Clenching his eyes shut and holding one arm around David’s waist, he bolted into the fire.
An immense wave of agony seared into his flesh from all that was around him, a ceaseless, intense wave of pain of such torridity that he had never known before. Each breath inhaled only fire and smoke, charring the insides of his mouth and stealing the scream from him before it even escaped from his throat. All that he could see was a fiery blast of black and orange, and all that he could hear was the deafening crackles as the two of them burned. His skin blistered as he thrashed about, the flesh practically melding under the powerful heat of the flames. Even as his mind screamed with pure agony, Michael could only grab David by the waist and shove him forward, sending the burning boy crashing down onto the lawn, where he writhed about in pain as he tried to bat out the flames over him.
That’s it, he’s safe, David got out. Now yourself, just focus every shred of willpower you have, force yourself out of this fire, out of this pain-
Feeling as though every fibre of his being was being wrenched away from his body, Michael hurtled himself through with the most violent of screams. Though he did stumble on the doorframe, it did not take long before he joined his friend on the lawn outside, immediately collapsing into a crumpled heap. The air that by all rights should have been sweltering was now cool to the touch, almost distracting him from the fact that the few seconds he had spent in the fire had left second and third degree burns over much of his body. With the last of smoldering flames still dancing from his body and refusing to be smothered, Michael found himself in great agony, but you’re still alive, yeah, you’re still alive. Just, just stop drop and roll, like they taught you, beat out the flames.
Exercising the determination that had carried him through the bulk of the night, Michael brought himself to roll around the grass on the lawn as he desperately tried to bat out the flames. Yes, that’s it, just do it, just roll and get the flames off you, get them to smother out so you can go help Dave, go find Stacey, go get somebody to help you.
Groaning in more pain than anybody was ever meant to feel in a lifetime, Michael forced himself to pull himself up to an approximation of a seated position. With some difficulty (though compared to what he had already gone through that was likely near nothing) he managed to drag himself along the lawn, leaving a charred, smoldering path in the grass. David, go help him, he’s still in pain, he’s still on fire.
Michael looked over to the downed boy with some hope that everything would be all right now that they had made it out of the fraternity house. “Jesus, Dave, are you okay?” he tried to say, though what came out was a guttural croak that sent pain along the insides of his throat. Shit, those are definitely burns, you’re going to be spending a long time in the hospital mate, but at least David’s okay, right?
“David,” he forced himself to whisper as he painfully beat out the last of the flames. “Come on, you’re okay, just, just come on, they’ll be here soon, they’ll take us to the hospital and everything will be okay... David?”
The boy did not reply. Oh god.
With anguish coursing in his veins, Michael crawled over to his friend’s side, all cognitive thoughts now beyond him. Feeling almost as though the whole world had fallen out from underneath him, the Australian found everything that he had ever known vanishing from his world. He was close to bawling, feeling tears streak their way down his face yet hardly giving a damn at all. He could not die, not now, not ever. After all that they had gone through, everything they had done, surviving so much that would have had any lesser man in defeat, and after all this, the fire took him away? No, this could not happen, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, David was okay, that much was sure. You can’t do this god, you’ve done so many wrong things, so many fucked up things and I haven’t complained, put us in this and fucked with our lives so many times, but you can’t do this, not David, not him please god, you owe him better than that, you owe him better...
Still the boy did not respond in any way, shape or form.
Why, god damn it why, he should have lived, no, not him, it should have been me! He should have lived, he deserved so much better than this, oh god damn it please don’t, please, it was bad enough back there, don’t make this any worse... Why, just, why did he have to go like this, why did he have to go at all? He deserves better, you owe him better! Just, I saved him damn it, I brought him out of that house against all odds when we should have died in there, so why him, why now? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ALL ABOU-
“...Mikey?”
Nothing was going to be the same.
Part 2