When Will wakes up, he's in the dark. For a moment he thinks that he hasn't woken up at all, it's so dark. But when he runs his hand over whatever he's lying on, he knows he's awake. He'd never dreamed about lying in the dark, on a wood floor, before. He struggles to remember what he had been dreaming about. That gives him his first clue about his surroundings. When he pushes himself into a sitting position and his head spins abruptly, he knows. He's been abducted. And drugged too, probably. He curls himself into a tight ball, and closes his eyes.

When I open my eyes, someone will have opened a door somewhere, and then there will be light.

He can defend himself in the light. He might even stand a chance of escaping, if whatever they (whoever they are) gave him has worn off by then.

But how long would that take? He strained to remember what last happened to him. He'd been... He'd been...

He'd been walking back to his cabin. He'd just had dinner by the lake with... with Travis and Katie, Lou Ellen and Miranda, Lacy and Conner. He could remember being completely uncomprehending as to why he was there- this was clearly a couple's picnic. And then...

He couldn't remember any more. He closed his mind, and waited.

Presently, he became aware of breathing next to him. Not slow, measured breathing like his own; instead these were short, sharp gasps. Panicky. Uncontrolled.

He reached out with one hand. First behind him- he didn't want to be snuck up on. But his hand struck wood. He tried again above him. More wood. The same thing happened on his left, and in front of him. That meant the person- whoever it was- was on his right. The breathing had not calmed down, rather, it had gotten more raggedy, as though the person was trying not to cry.

Eyes still tight closed, Will opened his mouth. "Hello?"

There was a short gasp, and then the breathing stopped all together. Will couldn't tell weather the person was holding there breath, or weather they had died of shock. The former, he hoped. He tried again.

"Is anyone there?"

There was a definite quaver in his voice.

Silence.

One more time.

"Please?"

He didn't want to reach out again. What if they attacked. What if, worse, they weren't there at all? What if he was just imagin-

"W-Will?"

A reply. That was all he needed, and the voice sounded familiar. But he still didn't open his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me. It's Will. Do you know where we are?"

More silence. But the breathing had calmed slightly. Only very slightly, though. And then, as though they were trying very hard to sound light, or uncaring (light. What he wouldn't give for a little light.), but failing completely, a reply.

"Wooden box. Cupboard."

Yes, he'd thought as much.

"Any door on your side?"

"No."

"Mine neither" Will responded. The breathing next to him quickened again.

He had to do it now. Will reached out a hand, and his fingers brushed something- leather?

Who is this, anyway?

He opened his eyes. It didn't make anymore of a difference than the first time he tried it.

"So you know who I am," he said lightly (he managed to keep his voice under control), "so... Who do I have the pleasure of being trapped in a cupboard with?"

"Don't! Please." The voice was getting panicky now.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I won't joke about the box." Or the dark, he added silently. "So who is this?"

The tiniest pause, and then:

"Nico. It's Nico."