885 Days [A Vikklan/Sidemen/Pack Story]

Day 7: Tobi

30 March 2015

I completely understood Vikk's reaction to their words, their disgusting, unfounded words that he had gone willingly, but I had managed to keep myself more under control. Inside I wanted to scream, cry and bawl, but I kept inside. Vikk was a wreck and he needed comfort more than I needed to unleash my emotions. I simply locked it all inside while trying to explain what was going on to the now sober Sidemen, Lachlan's friends and family, and comforting Vikk.

The younger boy took in a shuddering breath as he stirred in my arms, having only slept a few hours. He had woken up screaming twice during the night and hadn't been able to sleep at all between those periods, drifting off before jolting up in a panic. All I could do was hold him tight and whisper unintelligible words into his ear until he fell limp again and my thoughts could drift elsewhere.

God, where was Lachlan? I think in my heart I knew that something was very wrong, he certainly hadn't gone with that man willingly, he had been drunk but because they- the police- hadn't considered him high risk and weren't fighting to find him. He was 19 for god's sake, vulnerable in a mostly new country, taken from a bar by a strange man and we were left with no information. We were left to sit and cry and pray that he would come home to us.

It was midnight, marking three days since Lachlan's disappearance, and Simon came into Vikk's room. I had been sleeping in there with him because he couldn't sleep alone. He crept over to my side, after making sure I had seen him, and sat down on the bed. The mattress sank as he crawled up the bed beside me.

"What's up Si?" I whispered over Vikk, reaching out my arm to pull him close.

"Checking on you and Vikk mostly." He mumbled, but he was shaking. I think he was crying too.

"Do you want to sleep in here?"

"Yeah. Please." He breathed, shuffling under the blankets and wrapping his arms around Vikk. Said boy squeaked a bit but didn't wake up. Simon sighed. "I just... I'm so scared. I can't imagine what Vikk's feeling at the moment and god... god I just want Lachlan to come back. We didn't know him that well but I know I feel like I've known him for years now. He's... he's like Vikk to me, I want to protect him. But I can't."

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An entire week. It took an entire week before we got any more news from the police despite mine and Josh's daily calls to the officer taking his case, Vikk's sobbing pleas to do something to get him home and his panic attacks in the middle of the night following nightmares about where he could be. The imagination was sometimes worse than the reality but I knew that wherever he was, whether he was alive or not, he wasn't safe.

When we finally got a visit from an officer some of Lachlan's friends were only hours out from arriving at our house, having gotten a flight as soon as they feasibly could. The officer knocked on the door, Josh answered, and within a minute everyone was gathered in the living room to listen to what he had to say. Vikk clung to me.

"We took a look at some of the footage from other shops in the area and the investigation has concluded that he didn't go of his own accord. There's... there's footage that's very suspicious, he was stumbling and given the number of drink we knew he had, it doesn't warrant behaviour like that. There's potential of a spiked drink." He paused, looked down at the file in his hand. "He's been reported as a missing, abducted person and we've begun a more intense search. The man is still unidentified and we'll be doing a spot on the news as well as talking with the Australian government if things don't change soon."

The room seemed to breathe out a collective sigh- finally, they were taking us seriously. But there was still this weight, this pain, knowing that he was still missing and could be anywhere, hell, they could have even left the country by now. Vikk didn't let go of me but he was shaking now, tears slipping down his cheeks.

"Because he isn't a minor we can't do an amber alert, but my supervisor has suggested you guys start putting out posters and things like that. We've opened a case on the tip line with a number for anyone who might know anything and we'll get that to you as well." He sighed. "I'm sorry that it's been a difficult week but we've had so many cases. There's been three more missing persons reports with suspicious circumstances since he went missing and two homicides just in our little sector. I know I shouldn't be giving excuses, but we're stretched thin. We've got a solo officer on his case now, so hopefully there'll be some developments."

I only nodded, glancing around at the others. Simon was ghost white, JJ was leaning on the bench to keep himself upright and the others, Josh, Ethan and Harry, were stunned into silence. The officers nodded goodbye and left himself out, leaving behind the thin manila folder he had been holding that was apparently Lachlan's case folder. Inside, on the front page, was the number to the tip line and the 3 digit number that was specific to him. There was the baseline of a missing poster, but without a photo or description. They had all the other information, the dates, his personal information, where he was last seen. There was also a small still of security camera footage of him with the man, who they were asking to be identified. Vikk stifled a sob when he saw it.

"Can... can someone do that?" I breathed, hardly able to believe they left it to us to do. Ethan nodded, face pinched.

"I can I just... I need a photo." He said, gulping.

"There's some on- on his Instagram." Vikk hiccupped from around my arm, eyes glazed and half focused on that piece of paper. "He posted one a couple of weeks ago."

"Alright." Ethan breathed heavily. "I'll do it."

8: Lachlan

The dark was worse than the hunger. I could deal with the parched feeling on my tongue, the growling of my stomach, the sick feeling it gave me, but it was the complete darkness that scared me the most. It was the silence, the crushing knowledge that I was completely alone and that I was still trapped in this dark concrete box with no hope of getting out. How long had passed? Hours? Days? Weeks?

My body was weak. The thirst and the hunger meant I could barely move, not without waves of dizziness and bursts of pain, so I stayed still. I laid on the cold concrete floor in the complete darkness and prayed to whatever God might be out there to save me. Someone, please, come and save me.