How a Resurrection Really Feels

3

Brendon figures that he deserves this. All the things he has done over the years, all the sins, all the unchristian decisions, have led him here. It's punishment from God, and he knows that. His captors even took him when he was wearing a dress – a sign of God's sense of humor. He's not sure who saw what when he was taken, but he hopes that the other townsfolk didn't see he was in a dress. It was pretty dark at that point. They probably didn't. He prays that they didn't.

But eventually he gets bored of praying. It's his fourth day with the murderers, and God has not intervened yet. He is clearly taking His time, so Brendon just has to wait it out and focus on staying alive.

"Okay, so," Ryan says, and Brendon sneaks a look to the middle of the living room where his captors have convened. Jon is idly playing with a knife as Monster naps in his lap, and Spencer is sitting in an armchair by the fireplace. Brendon takes a firmer hold of the broom Spencer found in the shed and focuses on sweeping the floor. Ryan asks, "How do you start a ransom note, anyway? 'Dear Reverend Urie', 'To whom it may concern'?"

The three guys laugh. Or, rather, Spencer and Ryan laugh while Jon grunts. Brendon doesn't think it's particularly funny when his freedom is involved.

He knows the guys are keeping an eye on him since he is currently unbound. He asked to clean around the house. He doesn't mind cleaning at all, but mostly he suggested it because he doesn't want to be down in the basement with the rats, tied to the chair. In just a few days, he's learned to hate the dark basement with a passion. It's scary sitting in the dark, hearing footsteps above, not knowing what's happening. Jon might come get him to make them dinner, not saying a word and with a gun constantly pointed at his head. Spencer is more sociable, but still never lets his guard down.

Brendon's not sure if he feels happy or terrified when Ryan is the one who comes to get him. Ryan talks to him the most, but Ryan is also constantly making small suggestive comments and yesterday there even was some unnecessary touching here and there.

When Brendon still felt like praying, he prayed for Ryan the most, especially after their first conversation. A shiver runs up his back all the way to his neck when he recalls all that talk about sucking and kissing and then the F word kept popping up. Ryan is obviously on the wrong path, one leading to hell. Hopefully, God will lead Ryan to the path of salvation, but if He does, Brendon hopes Ryan's path will lead away from him.

"I'd better start with the list of demands and then write the other part later," Ryan says more confidently, but Brendon catches him staring at the ceiling, tapping the pencil against the table with a blank expression.

It seems that Ryan doesn't have a lot of ideas or that he doesn't know what to ask for. Brendon just focuses on sweeping. Little by little, the house is starting to look cleaner. He managed to do some work in the kitchen yesterday, though he still isn't fully done with it. He likes doing chores as it's the only time that he is not completely useless, unlike his oldest brother who is the doctor of the town, or his other brother who is working hard to become a priest like their father. His sisters spend their time looking beautiful for potential suitors instead of playing domestic goddesses, so as Brendon has nothing else to do, he makes sure everything is in good order around the Urie residence.

Brendon is a good son when he does chores, staying away from temptation. He isn't entirely sure if he genuinely likes cleaning or has learned to like it because of the connotations it has in his head, but he supposes it doesn't matter since he sincerely enjoys it now.

"Oh, I know! Rice!" Ryan says enthusiastically, writing it down. A long silence ensues. Jon and Spencer look bored. Brendon hesitates and sweeps together another pile of dust before he decides to speak.

"We have a good harvest of bean plants this year," he suggests carefully, and Ryan cocks an eyebrow. "You might like beans," he adds, hoping they realize he isn't trying to tell them what to do.

Ryan points at him with his pencil, nodding. "Of course! Beans! How could I forget about that?"

"What else can we find in your father's warehouse?" Spencer asks. Brendon's told them that most of the town's food is collectively kept in a warehouse behind the church. It belongs to the town in theory, which in practice means it belongs to his father.

Brendon stops sweeping, thinking about it a little. "Mustard plants flourished this year too, so we made a lot of mustard," he recalls, and Spencer nods approvingly so Brendon goes on, encouraged by the reception. "There's a lot of corn, we used most of it to make corn oil. Peas, carrots, flour, a lot of vegetables and –"

"Okay, okay," Spencer cuts him off. "Ryan, move and let Brendon sit."

"What?" Ryan asks in disbelief. Brendon startles slightly.

"Move and let Brendon take your seat. He'll write the note," Spencer explains dully. Ryan glances at Brendon, and he swallows hard. He doesn't want to be the cause of his captors' disagreements.

Ryan doesn't seem to give up easily, though. "I've got this, thank you! You think Brendon is going to write it better than me? Don't make me laugh!"

Spencer stands up and walks over to the table and takes the paper out of Ryan's hands, reading it aloud. "Rice, beans. Yeah, you're doing amazing here, Ry," Spencer states, rolling his eyes, and Brendon tries not to let himself smile. If Spencer wasn't so scary, he'd let himself think that Spencer is pretty funny. "He knows what's in his house better than we do. Plus, they might recognize it's his handwriting, couldn't they? Then they'll know he's still alive and shit."

"That's a good point," Jon comments monotonously, cleaning his fingernails with the sharp blade of the knife. Brendon just focuses on 'still alive'.

Ryan stands up fast with an obvious attitude, walking over and handing his pencil to Brendon. He doesn't look amused at all, and it's not like Brendon is afraid of Ryan – that much – since Ryan is the friendliest of the lot. A little too much sometimes, but still... Ryan is the only one Brendon is pretty sure won't kill him, so he doesn't want Ryan being angry with him.

Carefully, Brendon walks over and sits down, taking the paper from Spencer. "There are a lot of vegetables. We also have salted pork and beef, chicken too. And you could ask for fresh eggs, and dairy things like milk, cheese and butter, but you have to eat those quickly since they don't take long to go off. I don't think you guys could keep a cow out here as you've got nothing to feed it with, but goats also give milk. You could use one of those. You want to ask for a goat?"

"Oh, please," Ryan interrupts. "We are not going to milk animals. We've already got one fucking pet." Ryan glances at Monster sleeping in Jon's lap and, as if sensing the glare, the cat's tail twitches as a warning that it's not as asleep as Ryan might think. Ryan looks surprised, but Brendon knows just how sneaky cats are.

"Milk?" Jon enquires, sounding interested. He puts his knife aside to scratch Monster. "Didn't you say cats like milk?"

It's impossible for Brendon not to smile. Jon doesn't talk much, but he asks about cats. Brendon's tried to be helpful in that department. "Yeah. I'm sure Monster would like it."

"Milk it will be then," Spencer decides, but just like Ryan, he doesn't sound very convinced.

During his time in captivity, Brendon has learned that Spencer seems to be the leader or at least the one who makes the decisions. But Jon seems to frighten Ryan and Spencer as much as he terrifies Brendon, so any small suggestion that Jon makes in the rare moments he speaks instantly gets approved, even if it includes milking goats.

Brendon isn't sure what the deal is. Ryan and Spencer bicker like siblings, Brendon can instantly see that, but Jon doesn't seem to be a particularly close friend, so what are the three of them doing there? Brendon's also pretty sure that three guys aren't many for a gang. He's heard horror stories of Satan's advocates that dwell in all the big, sinful cities, and these guys are clearly from a city. They have to be since they don't even know how to keep a house clean or how to cook. Brendon doesn't ask, though, even if the curiosity nearly kills him at times.

He focuses on the list. "There are fruits as well, so you have several jam flavors. Coffee, tea..."

"Chocolate?" Jon asks.

Brendon catches Spencer's expectant stare. "Yes. Different kinds, but my parents never let me have any. They're for special occasions."

"Then I guess this time you're the special occasion," Spencer grins, motioning him to add it to the list. "After you've listed the demands, you can write a small note to your father," Spencer instructs, happier than Brendon has ever seen him. Must be the chocolate. "Explain that you'll be back safe and sound as long he gives us all the things we ask. And if you've got something personal to say, then go for it. Extra sympathy and all would be a plus."

Jon nods in agreement, but Ryan says, "Don't try tipping them off, though, or you'll spend the rest of your time here with rats."

"Okay," Brendon mutters. Even if he left some kind of a hidden message, no one would probably get it. People in Resurrection don't have much of an imagination.

Addressing his father proves difficult. It's easy to write the food that his captors want, along with linen and other necessities, so Brendon does that first, enumerating one by one the different foods that he thinks the guys will like. He tries to be sensible about it, so he doesn't only focus on what's good, but also on what lasts longer and what stuff doesn't need a lot of cooking since he knows his captors can't cook. Once he's gone, the guys will have to prepare food without him. He could lie to the guys, of course, omit the most precious and best foods from the list, but he doesn't want to do that either. The more he cooperates, the more helpful he'll be, and the safer he'll be.

Brendon also thinks he's worth the special occasion chocolates, but then he regrets thinking that since it clearly doesn't demonstrate humility, so Brendon does a quick, silent prayer and merely hopes his Christian soul is worth more than the chocolates.

Once he's done with the long list of demands, he takes a new sheet of paper and tries to address his family. Should he tell them he misses them? Or how scared he is? Maybe talk about God to get sympathy points from his father? His father would expect him to turn to God, at least. If he's honest with himself, he doesn't particularly miss home. Not to say that he likes being captured by murderers, but they are not that bad when they're not upset. Brendon misses freedom, though, and he misses not being scared, but he has no idea what to say to his family.

Brendon looks up and spots Ryan leaning against the side of the fireplace, staring at him intensely. Brendon instantly looks away, but in his peripheral vision he can see that Ryan is still gazing at him. It's uncomfortable, and not only because it makes him feel overly self-conscious.

Ryan is always giving him long stares when Brendon is cooking or cleaning, and it's a stare that says Brendon is the most delicious meal Ryan could have. It makes him scared of Ryan, but it makes him scared of God more. Even if Brendon hates admitting it, he can't help feeling flattered. No man has ever stared at him like that, which is only natural since in Resurrection it would be a deadly sin to do what Ryan is doing. Sinful, impure thoughts of another man. And that man is him. Ryan perceiving him like that makes Brendon feel nervous and queasy.

Brendon has spent a lot of time eliminating such sinful thoughts from his mind in order not to upset God. All the effort that Brendon has made trying to clean up his wicked soul seems worthless now, when the first time that Brendon receives attention from a man – the kind of attention that has been impossible for Brendon to get so far – he is back to struggling with those same immoral thoughts.

So Brendon decides not to bring God into the letter, since God surely knows by now what Brendon has been thinking in that basement. He doesn't want to refer to the Lord in fear of blasphemy. He's not worthy, especially not while he's thinking deep, deep down in the very most hidden part of his corrupt soul that Ryan is probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Therefore, Brendon keeps the note short. He tells his father he's not hurt and writes what Spencer told him to: to give them what they want, and then he can go back to his family unharmed.

"I think it's done," Brendon announces, handing the letter to Spencer.

Spencer reads both sheets of paper quickly, nodding. "Your family has the best stock of food ever. We'll have a nice, comfortable winter with all of this. Thanks."

"My pleasure," Brendon returns politely before he realizes that it was his ransom note and it's absurd that he is claiming it was his greatest pleasure to draw it up for these violent, leathered and tattooed hooligans.

"You can go back downstairs now," Spencer says distractedly, eyes on the note, and Ryan instantly makes his way over, gun now drawn out.

Brendon wants to say that he doesn't really want to go back downstairs, that he's doing just fine in the living room, sweeping the floor, and he still has a lot of things to clean up. It's almost painful for him to see the amount of dust covering the whole place too, so it's not him merely trying to think of things to do. But Ryan grabs him by his arm, dragging him all the way to the basement stairs. It's useless to put up resistance because once they decide to lock him up again, no matter what Brendon says or does, he always ends up in the basement with the darkness and rats.

Ryan leads him to his chair, pointing at him with the gun and barely saying a word. Brendon assumes that Ryan is still mad at him, which bothers him more than he'd like. He shouldn't care what these guys think. He'd still want to exchange a few words with Ryan before being left alone in silence for the rest of the day, though.

"I'm sorry, alright?" Brendon dares to say while Ryan ties him up to the chair again.

Ryan snorts. "Sorry for making me look like an idiot?"

Brendon startles when Ryan pulls the ropes around his ankles too tight, almost hurting him. Ryan finishes the work and leans towards Brendon, so close that Brendon can feel his warm breath on his face.

"Innocent Brendon," Ryan whispers, running fingers over Brendon's jaw, and Brendon instantly tries to recoil, but it's useless. His legs are bound, and his hands are tied up behind his back and attached to the chair. Ryan grabs his chin carefully, pulling his face up, making their gazes meet. "You're captivating, you know that?" Ryan asks with a hint of genuine fascination in his tone.

Brendon is trembling deep inside, but he forces himself to stay still. He breathes hard and his heart feels like it's going to jump out of his chest. No one has ever called him captivating, and he's not sure what he should say. Ryan is staring at his lips.

"Th-Thanks?" Brendon stutters.

Ryan grins broadly. "Thanks? You're supposed to tell me that I'm hot too or something like that," he says, using a luscious voice that makes Brendon even more nervous. "My ego will never recover from this," Ryan faux-laments, and Brendon is almost glad he unintentionally insulted the other man if it means Ryan will leave him be. Silence is better than demonic temptation.

But then Ryan leans even closer and runs his tongue over Brendon's cheek. Brendon jumps at the contact of Ryan's hot and wet tongue – another guy's tongue – and breathing is suddenly even harder. He repeats it to himself over and over in his head, that this whole thing, what Ryan is doing, is a horrific sin, and that he really, really doesn't like it. Ryan's mouth is too close to his own now. Brendon trembles.

"Ryan! Come up here, would you? We have to talk about the ransom!"

Spencer's voice startles both of them. Brendon thanks God for Spencer interrupting because he doesn't know how to handle the situation. This is something Brendon never expected to happen in his life so he doesn't know how to act.

"Coming!" Ryan shouts back and leans closer to Brendon one last time. "I'll see you later then, pretty thing," Ryan whispers to his ear. "In the meanwhile, think of something nice to say to me, okay? I like being complimented on my eyes, for instance. Just a friendly tip."

Ryan kisses his ear, biting slightly on his earlobe. Brendon winces even as some other tiny voice in him says that the pain feels kind of pleasant and... tingly. Ryan walks away, maybe purposefully shaking his hips in a really distracting way or just subconsciously doing it, Brendon can't tell.

Ryan winks at him before he goes upstairs, leaving Brendon alone in the darkness with sinful thoughts running through his head.