We'll Be Okay [Solby]

Chapter 21

Colby waited a long time.  Long enough that his tears had dried and he just felt empty inside again.

They were going to come for him.  And they were going to hurt him, in some sort of way.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried to get a feel for how big the room was this time by walking it, sliding his feet along the floor so that he didn't accidentally hit anything with his face.  This room was smaller than the last one, more of a glorified storage closet than a room and Colby couldn't help but feel claustrophobic.

His shuffle of the room also confirmed that he was the only one here.

For better or for worse, Sam had escaped capture.

God, he hoped he was okay.

He hoped he and Elton were just fucking alive.

That was the worst part, honestly.  Because not only was he fighting through his own panic at the pain he knew was coming, he had no idea if his boyfriend had even survived jumping out of the van.  Or if Elton had survived being shot three times.  The terror that he was the only one, that there was no one coming for him... Fuck... if he had any more tears to cry over it he would. 

He was here, locked in a tiny room, bound and blind, probably going to be tortured in more ways then he cared to think about...

He had never felt more alone.

The sound of a door opening reminded him that while he may have been alone, he had not been forgotten.  He turned his body towards the source of the noise as footsteps approached him.

What happened next... happened in a blur.  He was so close to dissociated that it only took someone seizing him by the hair and shoving him to the ground for him to truly leave his body again.  Something unpleasant was happening, he was sure, something having to do with pain, violation, and oh fuck I can't breathe... but Colby wasn't there for it.  He just let himself be used because what was even the point in fighting this time?  It wasn't like he was trying to protect Sam.

Sam was gone.

Sam had left him alone with these monsters. 

And fuck knew if rescue would come this time.

Time was a hard thing to quantify while he was out of his body.  He thought that the violation might have taken a while, but it could have been half an hour or five.  It didn't really make any difference when Colby was left on the floor again, alone.

And Sam wasn't there to tell him everything would be okay. 

He kind of floated, for a while.  Reality was a painful thing, and Colby stayed as far from it as he could.   He didn't know how else to do.  What the fuck else could he do?

There was nothing.  So instead he floated, and let time pass without him.

OOO

Sam waited anxiously for an update on Colby. Meanwhile, he tried to take stock of everything that had happened to him. 

He was told, because he didn't remember much after getting shot out of the back of the van and hitting the asphalt going way too fast, that someone had called EMS for him after his falling body apparently caused a small traffic jam.  He had been bleeding profusely from his leg, several limbs obviously broken, but it wasn't until they had gotten him into the OR that they really recognized the extent of the damage. 

Sam knew there were fancy words attached to the bones he had broken, but most of what he registered was that everything was broken, and that his knee was really, really, broken.  He could feel it even now, throbbing against the bandages wrapped around it.  When the doctors had rounded Thursday morning (it was already Thursday morning and they had taken Colby Wednesday afternoon), the news wasn't great.