Rebellion

Florida

Florida

​Pain. That was all he felt. Incredible pain as he blinked his eyes open and stared up at the sun. What the hell? He groaned as he slowly rolled over and felt grass underneath him. What had happened? He slowly stood up and staggered when he felt pain explode in his chest. He glanced down and saw that blood was staining his white shirt. He groaned and looked around. Where was he? He started walking in one direction and hoped he could find some sort of civilization. Now that he thought about it, he probably didn't want to be found by anyone. Well, he needed a doctor of some sort. He held his hand to his chest and he couldn't believe he was alive. He must've lost a ton of blood. He saw a few houses in the distance and managed to make his way over.

​"Oh holy shit! Are you alright!?"
​
​A guy with blondish hair was in front of him. He was wearing glasses.

​"He's government. Look at his uniform."

​"He's hurt. We can't just leave him to die. That's cruel."

​He was supported by the guy with the glasses and helped into one of the houses. He was laid down and he gasped as his pain flared up again.

​"Relax, we're going to help you."

​He blinked slowly as the guy with the glasses cut away his shirt and jacket.

​"It went through. That's good. Really good. Alright now you need to stay awake. You'll be alright but you have to stay up for a while."

​He nodded as the man bandaged him carefully and treated the wound. He knew that they didn't have stuff for blood transfusions so he'd have to stay up until his body would produce more blood than what was leaving him. He kept his eyes open as long as he could and shuddered as he was still in a lot of pain.

​"We can't keep him here."

​"Why not? He hasn't even tried to hurt us."

​"You're not thinking this through. He's dangerous. You saw what he did!"

​"Yea but so did the other ones and they've been pardoned haven't they!?"

​"We should go there. Tell that Farrell guy about it."

​"Not yet. If he's dangerous, we can always leave him."

​He blacked out.

<><><><><><><><>

​He woke up again and this time, thankfully, he was in a lot less pain. He slowly sat up and noticed the guy with the glasses was back. He groaned and accepted the glass that was being held out to him. He took a slow sip.

​"Am I alive?"

​"Yep. You're going to live. I'm Patrick by the way, Patrick Stump. My friend here is Pete Wentz."

​"Thanks for helping me out I guess."

​"Of course. What happened? If you don't mind me asking?"

​"It's kind of a blur," he muttered, "I got shot."

​"No kidding."

​The other man entered the room and he took in his appearance. Black hair with blonde highlights in it. This must be Pete Wentz. Patrick smirked at him.

​"Well, are you headed somewhere?"

​"I should probably get back to the Capitol......No.....wait..."

​"Mark Wakefield is dead," Pete said as he took a seat in a chair, "The rebels executed him about a week and a half ago or so."

​"What? How long have I been out?!"

​"Um. Well, Wakefield died a few days before we found you. You've been unconscious for about a week or so. Well not totally, sometimes you wake up and start saying things that don't make any sense."

​"He's dead?"

​"Yea."

​He felt a smile cross his face. So they'd done it. He couldn't help but laugh softly. He shook his head.

​"That's the best news I've heard. Ever."

​"It's still not exactly safe out there."

​"Why? What's going on?"

​"Well, there's been a lot going on in D.C."

​"Where are we?"

​"Tennessee."

​"Okay."

​"Hey Pat! Get in here man, look!"

​Patrick got up and left the room. He got up off the bed slowly and followed the shorter man into a different room.

​"Oh my god," Patrick groaned, "How could you show that on public television?"

​He leaned forward as he tried to catch a glimpse of what was going on. There was D.C. It looked pretty awful. There was a huge crowd of people standing around the square outside the Capitol. In the middle, a man was on his knees, blood dripping off his back while another man stood in front of him. From what he could tell, it seemed as if they were giving out a public blowjob. He grimaced and watched as the taller man grabbed the other one by his arm and shoved him hard against the pole, cuffing him in and then letting loose on him with a whip. And something flashed in his eye. He gasped and looked away. He remembered that man. He staggered backwards.

​"Pete! Shut it off! Shut it off!"

​"You promised! You said I'd never.....I'd never....."

​He felt a hand steadying him but it was really too late for that. His vision clouded over again and he was out.

<><><><><><><><><>

​He woke up again and was met with that same dork in the glasses. He groaned and leaned back against the pillows.

​"If you're going to keep blacking out like this, we may need to get you some more help."

​"I'm fine," he grumbled as he rolled onto his side. His wound didn't even hurt anymore but he was weak and he knew it.

​"You're definitely not fine. What happened? Why are you passing out?"

​"I don't know okay!? I can barely even remember what happened to me."

​"You were gone another few days."

​"That man....the one on the television....is he okay?"

​"Yes. He's alive."

​"Okay."

​He slowly got to a sitting position and then went to get up but Patrick pushed him back down.

​"Uh. No. Look, you haven't eaten in a long time. You need some food and some water."

​He complied. It wasn't like he was in any position to really argue. Besides, he was hungry. He got a sandwich and some fruit and a big glass of icy water. It was really good.

​"We were like, under the radar rebels I guess," Pete said. They'd decided to tell him their past story. "We supported Farrell and his guys but we wouldn't be any help towards them. We aren't really fighters. Of course, we'd like to be part of the system, but we would probably do better out here."

​"Anyway, we're pretty technical I guess, science-like," Patrick nodded, "We were trying to design weapons for the rebels to maybe use if we could find them but they were pretty good at staying off the map. So we weren't able to share them."

​"If the rebels are so against torture, why were they beating that man?" he asked with a growl.

​"Did you get hit hard or something? You honestly don't remember anything? That guy on there was a murderer!"

​"Well then so am I!"

​"Yea well, whatever. Your punishment is living with us."

​"It's hell alright," he growled. Patrick grinned at him.

​"Anyway, both the President and the elite were supposed to be executed but it turned out something was fucked up with the elite's mind so he was held prisoner and punished for his crimes before getting off and then joining the rebels."

​"He joined them?" he asked quietly.

​"Yea."

​He sighed and put his stuff on the table. He looked around before standing up.

​"Look, I really appreciate you allowing me to stay here and the fact that you practically saved my life, but I really need to go."

​"Where are you planning on going?"

​"D.C."

​"You'll get jumped or killed if you go there alone."

​"I'll manage. Survived this far haven't I?"

​"Just barely, you dick. Let us come with you," Patrick nodded.

​"No way," Pete said shaking his head, "I'm not getting dragged into a death sentence."

​"There's obviously something important back in D.C. if you want to go there," Patrick nodded, "I'll help you get there. What are you going back for?"

​"My lover," he said quietly. Patrick glanced at Pete.

​"You're going to turn that down?"

​"Fine. But we only have about one hundred miles left on the car. We'll have to walk from there."

​"That's fine. We'll get there," Patrick said, "Let's get packed."

<><><><><><><><>

​He sat looking out the window of the back seat of a jeep. He couldn't believe he was on his way back to the Capitol. He needed that reassurance that he was there. And that man....the rebel who had tortured him, oh he'd die. He would kill him. He clenched his jaw. Just the thought of that man made his heart race. He hated him.

​"You alright back there?"

​"Fine. I just want to get there."

​"We'll find her for you, don't worry."

​Oh if it were that easy. First off, it wasn't a girl he was chasing. And if what Patrick and Pete were saying was true, then he'd have to go to the Capitol just to get a glimpse of him. People would be on all sides of him. But seeing him again, that would mean everything. He wouldn't care about anything else. Just being able to hold him in his arms again and kiss him. He wanted to comfort him, to be with him every second of the day. He smiled at the thought of it. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the other man until now. Maybe that was because he was unconscious half the time. He shifted and looked out the window again. A small smile spread across his face. He'd be in D.C. soon enough. And then.....well, he had a trip to Florida to plan.