Getting It Together

Florencio

Choosing not to release his home address to the public was supposed to be a safety mechanism. He already had plenty of bodyguards. They were assigned by the police force ever since Pascal's escape. If he had anymore, his life would be sealed away in a vault, nothing coming in or out.

Even so, it didn't feel like enough. So, he made a stupid decision and released his schedule to the public. Nothing would be safer than having fans follow him everywhere, and they almost always figured out his schedule anyways. What would be the harm in making it more public?

 Pascal wouldn't be stupid enough to kidnap him in broad daylight, not in front of such a large crowd. Would he?

The plan seemed to work. Crowds followed him everywhere. The restaurants he ate at were crowded. His hand was cramped with the number of times people came up and asked him to sign their books. He slowly made progress getting everything safe and backed up on his computers. Once he was done he promised himself he'd go stay with Alejo and Logan and meet his nephew properly.

Of course, everyone had to be alone at some point. The bathroom and the bedroom were both places where Florencio refused to have security follow him. No one could always have someone with them.

Besides, Pascal wouldn't possibly be stupid enough to go after the same people. Sure, maybe he would go for similar people. The same family scheme, maybe. But too much had changed in them, they wouldn't be the same as Pascal wanted. They had more in their lives. Not to mention the extra police presence that had been offered to all of them.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, Florencio knew Pascal wouldn't settle. He would want his old 'family' back.

So it wasn't as surprising as you'd expect when he'd woken up in the middle of the night to Pascal sitting in a chair across from his bed. A gun rested threateningly on his thigh, his head stuck in a book. It was one of Florencio's novels. Sure, it was terrifying, but not all that surprising.

It was also pretty trippy. Some of the nightmares were almost this exact situation. Pascal appearing in the room seemingly out of nowhere. In each, he held different weapons with which to force Florencio to come with him. He could almost believe it was another dream, like all the others he'd been plagued with since their first escape from Pascal. But the drop in his chest was too real, and the clock on the wall ticked on steadily.

Sometimes when you have dreams and remember them, you nitpick every decision made. Why did I do that? Why didn't I do that? He could almost see himself nitpicking it in the morning, or when he woke up from a nap. Why didn't I scream? Why didn't I hit him with a book? Why did I follow him? Why did I get in his car?

Of course, he didn't wake up from the dream. He didn't stop daydreaming in the chair in the middle of the boring meeting.

It was insane. All the extra security he had was for nothing. Pascal got him out almost seamlessly.

No one even realized until morning.

And just like that, he was gone again.

Nothing felt real to Florencio anymore. He sat dissociated, his eyes trained at a stray curl in Pascal's hair. He barely registered the door to the van slamming shut, with him curled up in the back. The window between the front and back was already closed, and Florencio paid it no mind. Gas leaked out of the vents and Florencio merely watched as it loomed closer to him. And then his eyes fluttered into the back of his head and he was gone.

Florencio came to with his hands tied, locked in an unfamiliar storage room. Pascal came in with the ever familiar breakfast tray and Florencio let him feed him, staring at Pascal for any hope of remorse in the other. There was nothing. He listened boredly as Pascal expressed his disappointment in the book he'd written. He scolded Florencio like a child, yet strangely he couldn't bring himself to care.

He started ranting about his disappointment. The words slowly went deeper, and Florencio finally felt worried. Pascal knew so much. He knew about the bakery Jory worked in, seeing as he lived just above it. He knew how Giovonnie had moved. Kai couldn't keep up with the rent for their parent's house, and the house itself had too many painful memories. He even knew about Jasper, adopted after his father and mother both died.

They were all so fucking screwed.

Words: 800