Warning: This story contains topics that may be triggering or is too intense for some audiences. Some subjects include torture, rape, manipulation, abuse, and suicidal thoughts/depression.

IMPORTANT thing to understand before starting this story: Time will be weird in this story. There will be a lot of time skipping around to be able to have an eventful story. This is especially eminent in the different perspectives. Ponyboy's perspective might be hours or days into the story, while the gang's or detectives' perspective might be months. Sometimes they will match up. I will try my best to keep it as close as possible to each other, but please keep in mind that time could go back-and-forth.

I already wrote a story about kidnapping, if there are any of my older readers here. This story is pretty much a replacement because of how much I hated that one xD. I do not recommend reading that story for any of the new readers. Seriously. Don't. It's still there for a comparison on my writing growth.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.

o-o-o

If you would have asked Ponyboy if he ever had a time where he wished he was dead and have all the suffering end, he would have had no hesitation to his answer. It wouldn't be the normal answer, such as bullying, being in an abusive relationship, losing a loved one, or anything in that category. No. Ponyboy would have loved to go through those a thousand times than go through what he had been through. Even now, when he knows that he is safe, he wishes that he were dead so that the memories wouldn't plague his mind anymore.

It all started while he was in the middle of track practice. The coach had the team run to the nearby gas station—a two-mile run there and back. It usually took the entire practice because it was difficult to keep running without stopping. Plus, everyone would stay at the gas station for a while to hang out and catch their breath before returning. No one complained about the run because, overall, it was nice that they could have a change of scenery and have that small bit of freedom.

Ponyboy Curtis was usually one of the first people at the gas station. This time was no different. He leaned against the wall, trying to capture as much shade as possible. Even though it was early spring, it felt like mid-summer. Sweat made his eyes sting as he constantly swallowed his saliva to ease the dryness in his throat. He would kill for a coke right now.

On a normal day, Ponyboy would also be one of the first people to leave the station, but this time was different. He didn't know what it was, but Pony was a lot more out-of-breath than usual. Maybe it was the humidity; maybe not. But he decided to stay behind a bit longer to relax, watching as more and more students left the gas station to return back to school.

When Ponyboy finally composed himself, he pushed himself off the wall. He was about to start jogging back as well when he heard a 'psst' from behind the gas station. Ponyboy almost ignored it, thinking that it was just his imagination or the sound of a car exhaust or something when he heard it again but louder. The boy peeked over his shoulder but saw nothing. Passing it off as nothing again, Ponyboy turned around, noticing that everyone outside was either gone or had headed inside the station. Again, Ponyboy got ready to jog, but he heard someone whisper, "Come here. There's something really cool back here."

Ponyboy knew that he didn't imagine that.

Normally, Ponyboy would be wary of strangers calling him over, but it could have just been a classmate and, if worst comes to shove, he could easily run away or call for help from the gas station attendants. Yeah, that's right. It wasn't like he was alone or anything and he had the upper hand on the stranger. With that soothing confirmation, he warily crept over to the source of the voice. With each step, his heartbeat sped up and he could feel his anxiety tickle his spine. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to run away; that there was danger just around the corner…but Ponyboy ignored it. All he had to do was have a small peek and then he could go. No biggie.

With a big breath, Ponyboy peeked behind the store, only to find…nothing… It was completely empty besides a trashcan and a few boxes. Ponyboy let out his breath that he didn't know that he was holding. So, it was his imagination. He was relieved that it was nothing in the end. He didn't know how he would react if someone was there that wasn't a classmate.

Ponyboy turned to start heading back to the school once again when there was a sharp pain in his neck. Instantly, he felt his body weaken and he got more tired. The world around him started to spin, darkening at the edges. He strained his neck to see behind him, but his vision was so blurry that it was hard to make out any features. All he could tell was that the person was of the male stature and was towering over him in height. He noticed the man's eyes for a brief second before he couldn't focus on them any longer. They were empty and dead as if this person's been to hell and back… and yet, there was something creepy about it…something insane and playful…

"Help me," Ponyboy managed to choke out before his eyes grew too heavy for him and everything went to black. The last thing he saw before falling into unconsciousness was the ground racing to meet him.

o-o-o

When he woke up again, he was in a freezing room with a massive headache and body aching all over. Groaning, Ponyboy opened his eyes, only to be faced with darkness. Something tight was wrapped around his eyes. He was blindfolded. The boy went to pull whatever it was off, but he couldn't move his hands from behind his back.

What…?

Again, Ponyboy tugged, but all he got was a pain in his wrists. They were zip-tied…and he was blindfolded… As if a switch just turned on in his head, Ponyboy woke completely up as the events from the gas station started to play through his head.

He was kidnapped.

No. Ponyboy sucked in a sharp intake of breath. No. No. No. No. No. No. This couldn't be happening to him. He had to be dreaming. This had to be some sort of nightmare that he will wake up from. Soda was home, cradling him in his arms, telling him to wake up. Darry was there too, most likely, with a tired look in his eyes, but still filled with worry. He had to wake up. But he knew that it wasn't a nightmare from how much pain he was in.

Breathing erratically, Ponyboy started to struggle more against his bindings, but it was futile. The zip-ties dug deeper in his wrists, shooting a burning pain around the area. He could already feel the skin rub off, leaving smaller patches of raw flesh exposed, and he could feel bruises forming as well. "Help! Someone, help!" Ponyboy screamed, tears forming in his eyes that were dabbed away by the blindfold. "Somebody, help me, please!

"You know, struggling is useless," someone said from nearby, causing Ponyboy to flinch and jump a little, hissing as the restraints dug deeper in him. He thought he was alone. He would rather be alone. He doubted that whoever said that was another kidnapped victim. This was the man that kidnapped him. "You do know that you can sever off your hands if you continue like that?"

"Wh-Who are you? What do you want with me?" Ponyboy demanded. He tried to sound tough, but every inch of him was quivering, making him sound more like a whimpering, wounded animal if anything.

"My name is not important. Just know that you are going to help me out a lot."

"What do…What do you me-mean?"

But the man didn't answer. Instead, he warned Ponyboy, "If I ever catch you trying to call out for help again, I will rip out your voice box, so you won't be able to talk anymore and then feed it back to you. You dig?"

Ponyboy slowly nodded his head, whimpering. He didn't like to look like to appear weak, but he couldn't help himself. He was so scared. Hopefully, someone would find him soon. The gang had to have noticed him missing by now. The gang… he wondered what they were doing right now. They all had to be worried sick…even Steve and Dally.

"It would be a shame too," the man continued. "I quite enjoy your pretty, little voice. I don't want to get rid of it, but if I have to, I would." Fingers brushed against the boy's cheek, causing him to jerk away. The man growled and slapped Ponyboy across the cheek, causing his head to be flung back as red-hot pain bloomed across his face.

"Plea-Please let me go! What did I ever do to you?" Tears were cascading down Ponyboy's cheeks now, the blindfold too saturated to hold any more fluids. There was no point in trying to act tough…it would probably get him killed if he acted like that. "I'll do anything, just let me go. Please."

"You didn't do anything… Someone else did, and you will pay the consequences."

o-o-o

To say Darry was furious was an understatement. There were no words that would describe his vexation. It was past curfew and Ponyboy had yet to return home. Sitting in his chair, the eldest brother had his eyes trained on the door, constantly checking the clock. His fingers scratched at the newly-formed hole in the arm-rest.

"He'll be back, Dar. Don't worry," Soda reassured his older brother.

"I know, but he better have a good excuse."

But they soon started to eat their words the longer they waited. Soda was a lot more carefree on the issue, crashing on the couch, but Darry was still wide awake, yet mentally exhausted. With each passing second, the more dreadful thoughts flooded his mind. Every imaginable outcome played out in his mind. Ponyboy could have been jumped or out there, getting into trouble. Pony was a good brother, Darry tried to remind himself. Even though he doesn't use his head all the time, he should have the knack to be able to tell what was right or wrong and to stay out of trouble. He started to have doubts as soon as 4:00 AM hit… then, before he knew it, the sun was peeking over the horizon, and Ponyboy had yet to return.

From beside Darry, Soda yawned, pushing him from the couch. "Did Ponyboy come back yet?" he asked sheepishly, not yet grasping how exhausted Darry looked.

"No. Soda, I think something happened."

That woke Sodapop up. He shot off the couch with newfound energy. "Something happened? You don't think that he got jumped, do you?"

"We need to go search for him. Call the others and tell them what is going on. I'm going to drive around and see if I can find him."

Nodding, Soda rushed over to the phone, first dialing Steve's number. Darry grabbed his keys, jumping inside his truck and sped down the road. His fingers clenched the wheel, turning them white.

'Ponyboy…Come one…Where are you?' Darry uttered in his mind, panic fueling his blood like adrenaline. But still no Ponyboy.

He had to have driven around every road in Tulsa a dozen times before he gave up for the day and returned home, where the gang had recently gathered in after their search for the youngest member of the gang. Most of them had distraught plastered on their face.

"Did you find him?" Soda asked, already knowing the answer.

Darry shook his head. "No. Did any of you find a trail on him?"

"I asked around, but no one has seen the kid since yesterday evening," Dally answered. "Shepherds said they would keep an eye out for him."

"I'm going to call the police." Darry stormed the phone, lifting it up to his ears with shaky hands as he dialed 911. The ringing was loud as the gang quieted down to try to listen in on the call. It was unnerving, to say the least. The last time the house was this quiet with all of them there was…when their mom and dad got in the auto wreck…What if Ponyboy was dead? Darry shook his head. He didn't want to imagine that.

"Hello, this is 911, what is your emergency?" the operator picked up after a few rings.

"Hello. My youngest brother is missing."

"Has it been twenty-four hours since he has been missing?"

"No, not yet, but—"

"Sir, please call back when it has been twenty-four hours. If he hasn't returned by then, then we will file him as missing."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, sir, this is protocol. Usually, the missing victim returns before twenty-four hours. Please wait until then and we will put in a report to find him."

The operator hung up and Darry clenched his teeth, slamming the phone back on its dial. "Damn it!"

"No luck?" Two-Bit asked.

"I have to wait a full day until I call."

"What if Ponyboy is dead?" Soda asked, staring holes into the ground.

"The kid's too stubborn to be dead," Steve reassured, but even he doubted those words. "We'll find him before anything bad could happen to him."

Soda could only bite his bottom lip and hoped that Steve was right on this.

In the evening, Darry ringed up 911 again. "911, what is your emergency?" the same dreaded words rang out.

"It's been twenty-four hours and my brother is still missing."