The Pack and Sidemen Oneshots

Zerklan- Hold Me

Lachlan's P.O.V.

"Are you deaf?! I said stand back up!"

No, I wasn't deaf. I thought painfully. But I can't stand.

It was the same thing, day after day after day, but by that point I was so painfully weak that I couldn't even get up from where I had been kicked to the ground. Every movement sent me into the throws of pain and my body would be wracked by sobs for hours, all alone on the cold concrete floor.

"Scream all you want. Nobody's going to hear you." I knew that by now, I would scream and cry and yell until my voice broke but no one ever heard me. No one, ever. It scared me.

"Nobody will save you, so you might as well give up now." I well knew that too. I was in the middle of nowhere where no one could hear me crying, and I had long since accepted that I wasn't going to be saved. So much time had passed that I had lost track and it could be anywhere from a few months to a year.

I had long given up. I didn't fight it when they dragged me from the basement, I allowed them to do what they wanted to me and never complained, never screamed or cried unless I was alone. Alone being in the basement, curled up on a damp mattress that was probably growing mold, completely alone.

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I stared with an unseeing gaze across the half dark room, some cracks of light peeking in through a locked and bolted door. The room was dank and smelled musty but it was the same box I had been living in for months- no windows, one door after a small flight of stairs, made completely of concrete. I had no idea how I was still alive.

As much as I had tried to stay strong it only took a couple of weeks for me to crack. The constant abuse and starvation was bad enough but on top of that they made me beg for things to keep me alive, forcing me into situations I didn't want to be in, simply so I could have water.

Months of that made the cracks grow and finally, after telling myself for so long to hold on, someone would find me, I completely broke. It wasn't just one thing that finally made it happen, it was everything piled on top of me, the abuse and the starvation and the lack of sleep and the begging and the sickness- it completely shattered me.

For months I was in pieces on the floor, submitting to everything they wanted me to do with no complaints. I was beyond caring by that point and I didn't remember half of it, which was part of the reason I had no idea how much time had passed. I couldn't remember a good chunk of it- big, blocky holes in my memory.

For what felt like the millionth time I closed my eyes, hoping someone would find me.

Josh's P.O.V.

We were ticking closer each day to the first anniversary of Lachlan's disappearance. It wasn't anything to celebrate but I felt that the first year would make it almost... more official? I think all of us had lost hope that he would ever be found alive by that point, but with one year coming up, everything reminded me of him.

There were still missing person flyers all over the neighbourhood, a yellow ribbon tied around the tree out front, his YouTube channel sitting unused with no posts, no videos. His twitter had no tweets, his Instagram had no posts. He had vanished off the face of the earth one day with no clues to his whereabouts and we were left wondering.

I missed him. I missed his cheeky smile and loud laugh and mixed accent and how he got on with everyone. I just missed him, and I wanted him back.

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The day of his one year missing I attended the mass at the cemetery where there was a memorial for him- it still said he was missing and presumed dead. There were always fresh flowers, candles and the occasional stuffed toy left there for him, laid by friends or adoring fans. I laid a new wreath of yellow carnations, dahlias and rose for him that evening. Yellow seemed to have become synonymous with him.