Stitches ~ Scömìche

Gonna Wind Up Dead

"You helped him?" Abe roared rounding on Mitch. Mitch didn't even flinch, simply stared back at Abe, he was expecting this, ever since he helped Scott, he knew something like this was coming.

"You expected me to do anything but?" Mitch replied smoothly, he was no longer the hysterical man that he was truly. Somehow he figured out how to put on this mask. 

"I would have fixed the problem," Abe snarled.

"Letting him die would have caused you more problems." But Abe wasn't listening. 

"I was wrong to give you any type of freedom. You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. If you are to leave the room, you will be handcuffed to me." Mitch shrugged and picked at his jagged nails. He had chewed them down to the beds in anxiety, but he pretended that he hadn't, cleaning out dirt that wasn't there. This was a game of cat and mouse, the only thing that was changing was who was cat, and right now it was Mitch. Abe was playing right into his claws, the angrier he got, the happier Mitch would be. If Mitch could keep Abe's attention off of Scott, then Mitch was one happy camper. Deep in his mind, Mitch knew that if one of them was going to make it out, it was going to be Scott. Mitch had escaped once, but he highly doubted Abe would be dumb enough to let him do it again.

~*~

Mitch didn't even struggle as his wrist was enclosed in the unforgiving metal of the handcuffs. He was then clipped to the wooden frame of Abe's bed (even though Mitch spent all of his nights there he still refused to call it his own. Since Abe too slept in it, it would therefore be Abe's bed. Calling the bed his would be admitting to everything Abe had done). Abe was pacing before him, murmuring to himself about "what he was going to do with the blond". Mitch watched it all with uninterest. Scott was going to live, if Abe even lifted a finger on him, Mitch was going to attempt to kill himself. If that doesn't stop Abe, Mitch didn't know what will. 

"Don't touch him," Mitch finally said bringing Abe's attention to him. He was standing now, positioned directly next to the bedpost, and was glaring at Abe with such intensity that Abe thought a fire might start in the room. 

"What are you going to do to stop me, sweetheart?" Abe sneered, too frustrated with Mitch to even try to be nice. 

"This," And with that Mitch slammed his head down. His forehead collided with the sharp wood of the bed frame, splitting his skin and causing blood to gush down his forehead. He collapsed onto the floor, his head banging against the bedpost as he fell, leaving a smear of blood. Abe's mouth dropped open in horror and he rushed to Mitch's side, screaming at him to wake.

In the other room, Scott vomited, unable to stomach the thought of Mitch being hurt.