Benchtrio's Amazing Guide to City Living | Ft. The Hermits & SBI

and from the third wall, the lady next door has put her eye to the peephole

When Jimmy wakes up, it is to a horrible headache splitting his head in two. He can't connect to his senses, he thinks, his eyes seeing but no image registering, fleeting his memory right the next second. His ears are ringing, his arms and legs are numb and wrists sore, something within the gap between his heart and lungs distinctly repressed. What in the world happened?

Like a flash flood, memories flood into his head. No, that wouldn't be a good word for it. Feelings. Feelings and emotions entangled in a thick web of black. Fearful, ensnared and driven into a corner by an enemy he could neither see nor hear. The stress sends blood pumping into his head, neck suddenly scalding hot and flashed as his skin temperature takes on the bubbling lava underneath.

A door creaks open and he winces as light comes through. He can't see where he is and he doesn't know why he'd be in a house of all places. Trying to move his arms to shield his face, he finds that he is unable to move; unable to defend himself or attack if need be. Fucking Hell, he is right in the wolf's mouth and he's yet to be chewed and swallowed.

It begs the question: why? And his brain can't boot up fast enough to provide an answer in T minus (x amount of seconds).

"Oh, he's awake", the voice sounds vaguely familiar but he can't quite put his finger on who it could be.

"Still can't peg a random cashier to be The Listener, though", another replies and Jimmy sucks a deep breath in. The air catches in his throat and he swallows down the urge to cough and then the urge to gag at the tingling sensation running up his esophagus– it takes all of his willpower to do that.

The words swim in his head and then drown. The ringing has faded somewhat by the time the people who have come into the room have approached him but it is still slightly there, thrumming against his eardrums.

"We should let him go", speaks a third voice, this one even more familiar. "This is a fucking kidnapping and we're heroes for fuck's sake!"

"Dream is right. This isn't– why are we going along with this?!"

Jimmy blinks, eyes blurry but finally, the world around him is registering in his senses. Still a little indiscernible at the edges but he can finally see and not just listen. Sapnap and 404, standing right behind them is Dream, for once looking timid rather than self-assured and confident.

Ah, right. Jimmy is a hostage. He's been kidnapped, right, and the heroes are to blame for him still being here. If word gets out –and trust him, it will get out–, the heroes will be in a whole lot of trouble.

"Where am I?", he struggles to say, his neck feeling so restricted, he thought there was rope tied around his head too! Thankfully, there is nothing tied around his throat.

The heroes shriek in terror, all of them a different tone of deinitely-(not)-manly, and then they fall silent. A zap of a distinct something crackles through the air. Jimmy can't tell what it is but he can see the form it takes: golden and green threads that circle around the room he's in. Looking around, he can see the room– that's all. He can see it; he can see the four walls enclosing him but everything else is a muddle in his head.

He can't tell if he feigns his fear or if it's real. He shouldn't be scared; Grian is on his tail, he just knows it, with Martyn and every other villain there is around possibly. Wait. Oh crap, that's why they're doing it!

He's bait! The cheese on the mousetrap!

Cold sweat drips down his forehead, catching on his brow. He can't let anyone come near this house, not even on the same street. The heroes seem to be unsure of his Listener form, however, and he can't risk them finding out, so he can't turn and teleport and go about his day. He is pretty sure he can't do that even if he wanted to; not with the godly power encircling him in shiny threads that are invisible to the human eye.