Winding Away

Home

As soon as Nate woke up, he ran into the basement. He turned on the lights and turned off the fog machine as he ran. He started untying Matt, who was twitching oddly, the moment he reached him. Matt watched him blankly.

Nate helped Matt stand. Then he led him to the door. Matt didn't need much help getting there. Most of the damage had been done on his upper half. And his mind. Nate shook his head as if the awful thought was a bug in his hair.

Once upstairs, Nate brought Matt to the living room. "You can sit on a couch. Or lay. Or stand. Do whatever you want." It suddenly dawned on Nate how much skinnier Matt had become. I barely fed him. No, Mare. Not me. Still feeling guilty about what he blamed himself for doing, Nate said, "I'll go get you food and water" before he ran into the kitchen.

Matt stayed standing. He never wanted to sit again. How long had he been stuck in that stupid chair? And exhausted as he was, he just didn't want to lay down. So he stood.

A quick look around revealed that he was in Nate's house. I Brett had told someone who kidnapped me, they would've found me pretty easily, Matt thought. But maybe that's the point. No one would expect him to hide me in such an obvious place.

Soon, Nate came back in with a plate that was really more food than plate and a glass nearly overflowing with cold water. He set the meal down on the coffee table. Matt almost lunged at it. He hadn't realized how hungry and thirsty he had been until he'd seen the meal. Now he dug into it like a starving alley cat and messily gulped down the water, seemingly getting more water down his jaw and shirt than in his mouth. Nate watched for a moment. Matt didn't notice him leave.

When Nate came back once again, he had a first aid kit. He tended to Matt's wounds while the hungry, thirsty, tired male ate. All Nate could do for the rather deep cut on Matt's arm was clean and bandage it before he plopped onto the couch to catch his breath from all this running around.

Maybe about a week later...

Stephanie hugged Matt for the bajillionth time as they left the hospital. "Steph, I'm glad you missed me, but you don't need to suffocate me every five minutes," Matt said. His wife immediately released him from the embrace as if she thought he was made of glass and would break at the slightest touch.

"Sorry." Matt didn't respond, so she continued. "I still don't understand how you don't know what your kidnapper looked like."

Matt shrugged. "What can I say? He wore a mask to hide himself." Then Matt finally went home.

That night...

Matt laid awake thinking up ways to get even with Nate. You might be wondering why Matt didn't tell anyone Nate kidnapped him. The answer is simple. If the police found out, they'd arrest Nate. How could Matt get revenge on someone in jail? Of course, it wouldn't help if Brett squealed. I'll have to find a way to keep him quiet, Matt thought. Even if that means killing him. Whatever it takes to ensure that Nate is my victim. That's what he is after all. My victim. Mine. With that thought in mind, Matt decided to sleep since he was finally in his bed. Dreams full of blood still filled his head, but in them he was the one causing the bloodshed.

A/N: Sorry if I start updating slowly. I started writing this at a time when I had a lot of free time. Now I'm busy with other things, both necessary and just for fun. So I keep forgetting about this story (Darn my memory. DX). I promise I won't abandon it though. It shall be finished!