Roy sat in a cell so dark that the only way he could tell that others were with him was by the sound of their breathing. He pressed his back against the wall and felt cold, wet stone. They were underground. He felt a hand touch his and jumped.
"It's just me." Paul's voice was soft, a whisper.
The hand reached out again and he took it. Paul's skin was warm, a comfort. He slid, using the wall as a guide, until his shoulder pressed against Paul's.
"Are you okay?" Roy leaned close, letting his lips touch Paul's ear as he spoke.
"Yeah. I guess." Paul's grip tightened. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"
"Who knows." Roy sighed, letting his head rest against the wall.
This was a mess, a big one. It was one that he wasn't so sure they could all get out of. He knew one thing though. Paul would get out. He would make damn sure of that. He couldn't sit idly by and watch another person he cared about... a person that he loved, die. He had done it with Chester. What could he have done then? Now he had some power, some control, even if it was just a tiny bit.
"I wish it hadn't taken so long for us to..." Roy spoke into the darkness, not caring if the others around him heard.
"That was my fault." Paul moved closer. "I'm sorry."
"At least it finally happened." Roy laughed. "Even if it did take an insane cult of blood thirsty maniacs to do it."
Suddenly there was the sound of a door opening, squeeling on it's hinges, followed by the bright light of a torch.
Roy shielded his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light.
"You'll come with us now." An older man, in his forties, stood in the doorway. He was the owner of the grocery store.
Next to him was a younger man, probably in his late teens. His son. Roy had seen those two thousands of times. He'd talked to them, laughed with them. Now they were willing to slit his throat for what? Some lie Moira had told them?
Roy went to help Paul up. In the light he could get a good look at him. Paul was pale, his eyes watery. He had been crying. He was covered in dirt and sweat, and pretty much looked like death warmed over.
The young man, seeing Roy move, pulled a machette from his belt, pointing it at Roy's face.
"No funny business faggot." The boy's voice was high. He hadn't even hit puberty yet.
"He's wounded." Roy ignored the blade and continued to help Paul up.
The boy didn't take being ignored well, because he raised the blade, aimed, but before he could stop his father lashed out, bashing the base of the torch into the back of the boys head.
The boy crumpled to the ground, but the act had caused Roy to stop.
"Are you an idiot? She said bring them to her alive." The man reached down, pulling his son to his feet, and flung him back through the doorway. "I can handle them. Go back with the others."
Roy watched Julie and Roxanne stand. It seemed to be agreed that they would play along. Fighting back now, in such a confined space, would probably only end with them all getting hurt, or worse, killed.
The man motioned his head towards the door and started walking. Roy threw Paul's arm over his shoulder, helping his boyfriend to his feet. Slowly, carefully the four of them made there way into the dark tunnel, making sure to stay close behind the man. If they lost the light who knew what would happen.
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