Chapter Text
Nathaniel woke up. His whole body ached with pain, and his vision swam. He wanted to call for Jean, but remembered that he wasn't here—Renee had kidnapped him yesterday. Lying on the floor, the redhead tried to get up. The attempt failed as his legs gave way. Gathering the last remnants of his strength, willpower, and self-control, he managed to rise by leaning on the bed. Nat rummaged through the bedside table and picked up a phone that had long since died, since its owner had last used it two years ago.
The redhead went to the bathroom for the first-aid kit. Usually Jean treated his wounds, just as Nathaniel treated Jean's. Now he was alone. Taking thread, a needle, antiseptic, and bandages, he stitched up the worst wounds. The young man could barely even stand properly. But training wasn't canceled. There was nothing left to do but pull himself together and go out onto the court. The wounds burned, itched, and gave him no peace.
The hardest part was that Nathaniel had once been able to rely on his brothers. But now he was alone, without support, in this horribly gloomy and cold place. Kevin had gone to the Foxes after Riko broke not only his hand, but his life as well.
Jean suffered from Riko's beatings when he learned that his father had died. On that same day, Renee Walker kidnapped him from the Nest.
At that moment Nathaniel was in another room. Riko had ordered him taken out of the room he shared with Jean, brought elsewhere, and chained to a bed. Wesninski couldn't know what was happening to Jean, but when Moriyama returned, having had his fill of "playing" with Moreau, he turned his attention to Nathaniel and "played" with him too.
The redhead thought he would pass out immediately, but that didn't happen. Nat didn't know how much time had passed; he only knew that time dragged on endlessly, and that he once again couldn't even stand. Somehow he managed to make it back to the room. Cracking the door open in the darkness, he saw Jean being carried out on someone's back. It was Renee Walker. Nathaniel tried to shout to the girl that he was here too. But his throat, ruined by torture, produced only a rasp. The Foxes' goalkeeper left the building with Jean. That was the last thing he remembered before fainting. His body could no longer endure so much stress and pain and activated its defense mechanism.
The morning began with practice. No one yet knew about Moreau's disappearance, but they noticed that the younger Wesninski had arrived alone. Riko was displeased by this and headed toward Nat.
" Nathaniel, where is your brother?" — a perfectly expected question, but the redhead didn't immediately find an answer.
What was he supposed to say? "Riko, sorry, but yesterday your defender was kidnapped by the Foxes' goalkeeper"? Oh, Nat already knew what awaited him. It had been the same with Kevin, except back then he and Jean had both been punished for their brother's mistake.
A sharp blow, like a whip crack, landed across his cheek. Yeah, Moriyama Junior could really hit; no wonder he'd spent so much time terrorizing the brothers. Riko struck him for remaining silent and repeated the question.
"Where is your brother?" the dark-haired boy shouted now. His face was twisted with anger.
In a way, Nathaniel was glad that Jean had managed to escape and get out of the Nest. He was happy, but a slippery resentment spread through his thoughts that he had once again been abandoned to fate. Wesninski was about to open his mouth and launch into another lie when a Raven's shout interrupted him.
"Jean isn't in the Nest!" Wonderful. Those words sounded like thunder from a clear sky. Now Nathaniel definitely had no hope for a bright future.
After waiting a couple of seconds, Riko slowly turned toward Nat. His trademark smile gleamed on his face. The smile practically radiated aggression. It was obvious he was restraining himself from killing someone that very second (Nathaniel, of course). In those two seconds Moriyama managed to think through every possible way Jean could have escaped. And the redhead mentally said goodbye to his life, thanked the few people who had splashed color onto the canvas of his gray existence (his brothers), and stitched him back together like a lifeless doll.
Practice was canceled—the coaches needed to understand what had happened.
Everything happened too quickly.
Riko grabbed Nathaniel and dragged him to his room, threw him onto the bed, locked the door, and pulled out a knife. Moriyama approached the bed, yanked Nathaniel's shirt off, and chained him to the bed. Bringing the blade to the boy's stomach, he drew it across the skin. A new wound appeared. Blood gathered along the edges of the cut and slowly streamed down his side onto the sheets. The pain dulled. Nathaniel had endured the Japanese boy's torture for too long, too much pain. Too much. His brain had begun ignoring pain unless it was truly unbearable.
"Usually I only do this to those idiots willing to jump into bed with an athlete of my level, but right now I want to see your tears, your screams, and how you'll writhe beneath me. I want revenge on your fucked-up brothers," a dangerous grin stretched across the Japanese boy's lips, like a predator that had finally caught the prey it had hunted for so long.
Moriyama Junior pulled down his own pants and then stripped Nathaniel as well. At that moment Wesninski realized what the boy intended to do. He desperately tried to break free, but his strength was running out, and there were those damn handcuffs.
Riko took some lubricant and applied it to himself. Entering him all at once, he didn't even give him a chance to breathe before beginning to move. Fast and painful... Revolting and disgusting. Nathaniel wanted to scream, but because his vocal cords had been torn, he could only desperately gulp air. A tear rolled down the redhead's cheek, and Riko laughed like a madman.