Revenge of The Fallen (Crossover)

Alone Together

Pete's Pov:
My eyelids felt heavy as I tried to wake up. Everything hurt. My head, my neck, my entire body. I couldn't breath. It felt like someone buried me alive.

I let out a tired groan as I tried to move my head. I was sitting, definitely sitting, and my head was down. Maybe that's why my neck hurt so much.

I groggily lifted my eyes as I found myself in the sitting position, but something was off. I couldn't move. I wasn't paralyzed, but something was restricting me. 

As I woke up, I found that it was mostly my arms and legs I couldn't move. My vision was still hazy, but as I started to look around more I could tell I was in Andy's basement.

I blinked a couple times, then focused my vision to the center of the room. I took in a sharp breath. Everything that happened tonight came flooding back to me, and there he was. Watching me, like he was waiting for me to do something.

My breathing became panicked as my eyes started to flit around the room. Now that I was fully awake, I noticed why I couldn't move my limbs. They were duct taped to the limbs of the chair I was sitting in.

Oh God no, I thought to myself. This can't be happening.  

He smirked, like he only did this for fun. Hell, he probably did.

"You up yet?" He asked nonchalantly. I hated when he did that. I hated when he did anything nonchalantly. It made it almost seem like nothing was wrong. Or at least like he didn't care.

"What the hell is this!?" I snapped, raising my voice as much as possible while struggling against the tape.

"Oh, that's just something to keep you outta trouble." He sneered, a glint in his eyes. That only made me struggle more, which was probably exactly what he wanted. I hated this. I hate this more than words could describe.

To be honest, I would have hated this a lot less if that douche bag was possessing someone other than Patrick. Anyone, really, because knowing my best friend was in there, having to go through all this. It was unbearable. 

"Well, here we are. Finally alone together." He said, still smirking. He stopped when I didn't respond. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

I still didn't respond, finding myself not being fully able to. Instead, I just looked away. I didn't want to see those eyes any more. I couldn't.

I took in a breath as I heard him start to pace around my chair, like some sort of James Bond villain.

"You know, I've been thinking. I don't have to kill you." He stated, putting his hand on my shoulder. I shuddered.

"It was a suggestion, really. By one of those girls." He continued, starting to pace again. I perked up. Girls? I thought. Oh no. It was as bad as I feared.

"They were witches, I think. They even saw your cute little video series. That's why Patrick is here. It really makes you redefine the term fangirl, doesn't it?"

I looked up at him, the smirk on his face not faltering one bit. "But you already knew that, didn't you, Pete?" He asked, tilting his head a little. I looked back down. This really is my fault, I thought to myself. It's all my fault.

I finally found the strength to struggle more at that thought. If this was my fault, than maybe I would be the one to fix it. Yeah, and look how well that's going.

After a moment of silence he stepped towards me and grabbed my jaw, keeping his hand just above my throat. "Look at me." He hissed, his words stinging in my ear and his breath right on my face.

Instead of ignoring him, like I should have, I looked at him. I looked him right in the eyes. "Fuck off." I spat.

His gaze faltered, as if my retort was unexpected. He let go of my jaw, still keeping eye contact, then slapped me hard, right across the face.

I winced, letting out a short groan. I balled up my fists and struggled even more, opening my eyes to face him again. I wasn't paralyzed any more. I was fired up and ready to go.

But I noticed something as I looked in his eyes. It wasn't just him up there. Patrick was up there too. I could tell he was suffering. I could almost envision it.

"You listen to me, you asshole!" I started, watching him cock his eyebrow.

"I know that you're 'different' from Patrick. But I know you have him up there, and I know you're treating him like shit. You can do whatever the hell you want to me, I couldn't care less! But please, just let him go. He doesn't deserve any of this."

I was met with a chuckle and an eye roll. "You humans continue to amaze me." He said as he grabbed me again, this time by the neck. I could hardly breathe.

"This is what I like about you, Pete. About both of you. Your emotions, your bond. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced! All of my previous meat-suits were middle aged males with boring lives and sick fantasies. But Patrick? He's a gold mine!"

His grasp on my throat hardened, closing my airways even more. I fought against him as I struggled to breathe, but it was no use.

"I need this. I need him. I need you!" He snarled in my ear, his hand squeezing my throat so tight I began to feel light headed.

After a second his grip softened, along with his eyes. He huffed, then smirked. "Being dead for two years really puts things in perspective, doesn't it?"

His eyes shifted from me to his jacket pocket as something began to ring. He finally let go of me, sending me coughing up a storm. He pulled the source of the noise from his pocket. It was my phone. He must have lifted it off of me while I was unconscious.

I looked down with guilt as a smirk grew on his face. He knew who was calling me, and I was leading them right into his trap.

"Sorry, Pete, but this has to be cut short." He stated after pushing the ignore button. He then pulled something else from his other pocket; the roll of duct tape.  

"Oh fuck no!" I exclaimed as he began to unroll the tape. This was going way too far enough as it is! I didn't want them to find me and think I was some 'damsel in distress.'

But no matter how much I struggled, or turned away, he managed to fit a strip of tape around my mouth. He must have noticed the blood rushing to my cheeks, for he grabbed my chin. "Aw, look who's all embarrassed!" He teased.

I hated this. I hated every single moment of this. Even though I couldn't show it - he would probably kill me - I was screaming. I was screaming my lungs out.

He let go, then started to head towards the stairs. "Now, we got to greet our guests. Dean, and little Sammy."

My eyes widened at those words. He knew them? I mean, he would've probably known they were hunters, but their names? This was a very bad sign.

I started to struggle again. I even tried to make noise in protest. But he just ignored me as he ascended the stairs and slammed the basement door. I shuddered again as I heard the door lock.

I sighed in defeat and put my head back. This was going to be a long night.