30 Days of Assorted One-Shots

Day 21: Seeking Answers

Prompt: Kidnapped / Ransom

Title: Seeking Answers

Fandom: The Bourne Ultimatum (2007) - Starring Matt Damon

Warnings: Mentions of violence, drug induced fatigue, disorientation.

Word Count: 3,605

Author's Note: This is sorta meh. It was fun to write, but took me awhile and sorta bounced all over the place because of how intermittent I wrote it... dang work and school eating up my time...

Synopsis: When Y/N finds herself taken hostage and held as a ransom by an unknown organization simply to get to the one man she's spent her last three years alongside, what will happen? Will answers to her questions be found? Will he finally find answers about his haunting past?

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Seeking Answers

A steady throbbing resonates with your senses, gradually coming back to you.

Your head is pounding, your muscles are all screaming in protest.

Your memory is foggy... in fact, you have no idea where the hell you even are.

A cough rattles through your entire body, making your lungs almost burn in response.

The hell?

Your vision is finally returning to you as you blink back against the grit filling them that you raise your hands in an attempt to rub away...

Only to quickly realize they aren't moving.

Harsh, prickly ropes accompanied by the icy steel of what are likely handcuffs, bite against your wrists as your panic begins to mount, your efforts to free yourself from these sudden binds becoming more and more desperate as you ultimately collapse, breathing labored and shaky, your energy spent entirely.

"I wouldn't bother trying to free yourself. They tied you quite well."

A wheezy, raspy attempt of a sigh of alarm is pulled from your dry, chapped lips as your eyelids finally pry themselves open, your anxious feelings rising once more.

An older man, dressed in a black suit, is sitting in front of you, a rather barren table sitting idle between you both.

Whitewashed walls surround you every which way, a certain stench of... cleanliness... sending a shiver of unease dancing down your spine.

"Where the hell am I? Who are you?" You demand, voice raspy and cracking as you attempt to shift against the cold steel of the seat you're bound to, hands behind your back, unable to move at all.

The man across the table from you just laughs in reply, the sound echoing obnoxiously loud back to your muddled hearing against the empty, bleached walls.

"I should have known he would've found such a feisty one," He chuckles, leaning forward in his seat with ease, grinning knowingly. "Even through his scattered and fragmented memories of who he once was... and who he still is."

Dread instantly floods your system as realization settles in, your heart rate quickening involuntarily.

This man knows exactly who you are.

Who he is.

"You're Treadstone."

Your voice is merely a murmur filled with fear and distaste, your gaze darting towards the pale, tiled floor, unable to hold your captor's eyes glistening with a certain malice and mischief.