DemoGrassi

eighteen

Mitch suddenly pulls away and furiously wipes away his tears, standing up and marching to the door.

"Where — where are you going, sir?" Kirstie dares to ask, but Mitch doesn't even look back. "I'm going to get Scott back."

He stalks through the halls, ignoring everyone's slightly fearful glances as he passes. He stops at huge wooden doors, the handles an intricately carved 'G'. He growls and pushes them open, letting the doors slam closed behind him.

Mitch looks around the large office overlooking the fields and ignores the slaves minding the fields. He sees all the drawers surrounding the large desk in the middle with the black leather chair behind it, and bites his lip. Then, with another small growl, he starts to tear through all the stuff, searching for the one thing he knows will tell him where his Scott is.

For hours he searches through the office, tears blurring his vision and hands shaking with exhaustion, but he refuses to give up. "It's got to be in here somewhere," he whispers to himself desperately, throwing yet another stack of papers to the side.

The floor is littered with papers similar to those, all covered with meaningless numbers about the financial stability of the country and meaningless words about letters from citizens asking for help.

Cabinet after cabinet is thrown open and ransacked, more and more papers covering the floor. Mitch's eyes hurt from scanning every paper as he desperately searches, but he forces himself to keep going.

Mitch's heart jolts as he recognizes a paper in a cabinet, and hurriedly scans the rest of them.

He throws the papers to the ground, resisting the urge to tear them apart. "No, no, no, no, no," he screams frustratedly, pulling on his own hair, "where is it?"

"You know, you'd think you'd ask someone if you could ransack their office."

Mitch whirls at the sound of the voice, his eyes darkening even more. "Where is it?" he demands, and Mr. Grassi smiles innocently. "What?" he asks, and Mitch has to resist the urge to strangle him right there. "You know what. Where is it?" Mitch snarls, but Mr. Grassi isn't even fazed.

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because if you don't, I won't hesitate to kill you."

Mr. Grassi raises his eyebrow. "Your own father?"

"Give me the f*cking papers."

Mr. Grassi shakes his head. "Mitchell. Where are your manners? And I don't know what papers you're talking about."

Mitch clenches his fists. "Yes, you do. Don't lie, Father. You do, and you're going to give them to me right now."

"No, I really don't, Mitchell."

"The papers. Scott's papers. Give them to me."

Mr. Grassi raises his eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "And have you buy him back to continue your little love affair? I don't think so."

Mitch snaps, and suddenly all he sees is red. He slams his father against the wall, gripping him by his collar. "Listen to me, Father. If you don't give me the f*cking papers, I will personally tear you apart limb from limb and rip out your vocal chords so you can't scream. Then, just when you think you're about to die, I will rip your f*cking heart out and squeeze it until all that's left is dust."

Silence rings after Mitch's hissed threat, Mr. Grassi staring fearfully into his son's eyes. Mitch slams him against the wall again, staring fiercely into his eyes. "So let me tell you again. Give me the f*cking papers."

+++

Mitch follows Mr. Grassi in silence, ignoring the fact that everyone gives him a lot of space in the hall and watches him pass with wide, fearful eyes. His own dark orbs are practically black, anger and sadness merging together in the depths.

Mr. Grassi stops in front of a small metal door. "We're here," he says softly, not meeting Mitch's eyes. "Well? Are you going to open it?" Mitch says annoyedly, but his voice is back to its normal soft tone.

Mr. Grassi jumps and nods hurriedly, taking out the key and opening the door. He holds it open for Mitch, and he hurries inside, immediately starting to search.

Mr. Grassi comes inside fully and goes to a cabinet in the corner of the room. The cabinet is very small and dusty, so unnoticeable Mitch probably wouldn't've seen it. Mr. Grassi gets another smaller key and sticks it into the lock, turning it carefully until a small click resounds through the room. He pulls it open and extracts a bundle of paper, carefully handing it over to Mitch.

Mitch quickly grabs them and flips through them, making sure they're the right ones, before looking briefly up at his father. "Thank you." He turns and leaves the room, clutching the papers tightly in his hand.

Once again, people skirt him widely, careful eyes watching him as he stalks back to his room. Mitch hears their frightened whispers, but ignores them, blinking back a fresh round of tears.

He slams the door to his room once more, carefully putting the papers on his dresser. He glances outside and mutters a curse, deciding he better wait until tomorrow. Mitch spots the only thing he left on the dresser and freezes.

It's a small picture frame tucked in the corner, usually blocked by a larger one of him and Jessa that was thrown. It's of him and Scott, his lips against Scott's cheek and Scott smiling like an idiot. They had taken it themselves and Mitch took a chance and printed it, slipping it into a free photo frame and hiding it in the corner. Mitch tears his eyes away, blinking back his tears and shakily removing his shirt.

Mitch shakily climbs into bed, curling into a small ball and willing himself not to cry.

It's his first night without Scott sleeping beside him in about three months, and frankly, Mitch doesn't think he's going to be able to do it.

But still, Mitch pulls the covers up to cover himself and grabs the other pillow on his bed, holding it and trying to convince himself it's Scott. He squeezes his eyes shut and curls tighter into his little ball, a tear slipping out of his eyes.

Soon, he's full-on sobbing, the wound from the loss of his love fresh and burning. His heart is breaking, he can't breathe, he physically cannot function without the familiar tall blonde there to help him. Each breath he manages to take stabs him in the chest like a constant reminder that Scott is gone and it's his fault.

But, Mitch thinks with a small, miserable smile, not for long.