Title: 24 Hours
Author: zephiey
Rating: M, for violence.
Category: Song Fic
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: Princess Diaries and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot. I make no money from this work of fiction.
Author Notes: This story and its title has been influenced by Tom Jones' song 24 Hours.
24 Hours
Salty skin on my back
Sweat it pours like rain
I can feel the attack
But I'm numb to pain
The cold is creeping in
and it chills my veins
I got one more minute, twenty four hours to go
No redemption in my heart
No illusions old facade
What I did I can't take back
There's no use in wishing that
The bell is ringing now
and the clock counts down
I got one more minute, twenty four hours to go
Angels won't help me now
This fate is all mine
Darkness is fading out
and so is my time
Hear the footsteps at my door
I don't struggle anymore
As I take my final breath
I don't feel what lies ahead
I'm leaving to a place
Where I'll see your face
I had one more minute, twenty four hours ago
Joseph sat on the bunk waiting.
He knows they will be back.
He knows they are intent on breaking him.
They want the information he carries, and he knows they will stop at nothing to get that information.
He also knows that if he gives them the information they are seeking he is signing his Queen's, his Clarisse's death warrant.
He swears he will never give them the information.
They have been torturing him for almost twenty-four hours. At first the pain was intense, but now he is numb to it. Now it is not the torture he fears, but the cold. It is seeping into his body robbing him of his life's warmth. He hears the distinctive footfalls of his torturers as they walk down to his cell. As he waits for them to open the door, and begin his torture again he thinks back on how all this started…
Six days ago
"So Joe, one week, huh? Sure you aren't going to be bored being all alone with nothing to do?" asked Shades.
"No," said Joseph. He was actually looking forward to riding from Genovia, through Spain, skirting the Mediterranean and the Spanish Riviera before returning to Genovia. It was rare for him to take a vacation but with Clarisse attending her goddaughter's wedding in the Netherlands this seemed the best time for him to take a vacation.
In fact, he had been ordered to take his vacation.
And while he wasn't thrilled about allowing others to protect his Queen, his love he knew, unless he wanted to start an international incident he had to acquiesce to both Their Majesties, Beatrix and his Clarisse.
So here he was packing for a seven day motorcycle ride through Spain, along the Med and then back to Genovia. Placing the final shirt into his bag, he closed it, before hefting it over his shoulder. Picking up his phone he checked its charge, then flipped it closed, clipped it to his belt and grabbed his jacket.
He and Shades walked to Her Majesty's office. Joseph was saying his final goodbyes to her there rather than in the garage. Shades waited outside as Joseph knocked and entered when bid.
"All packed?" Her Majesty asked when he entered.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Joseph.
"Charlotte, that will be all," Clarisse said. "Would you be a dear, and see about some tea for us, please."
"Yes, ma'am," she said. "Have a safe trip Joe," Charlotte said as she left.
"Thanks Charlotte, I'll try."
Clarisse remained seated until she heard the click of the office door close. Standing, she walked around her desk and stopped in front of Joseph. She gave him a slow examination, from the tip of his motorcycle boots, up his chap and jean clad legs to his well-defined chest covered in a form-fitting long sleeved t-shirt to his twinkling blue eyes.
"Like what you see," he asked, a sexy half smile on his lips.
"Very much so," answered Clarisse. "I wonder if I shouldn't make this your official uniform," she teased moving into his arms.
"It might be a problem if you do," he teased back.
"How?"
"The female staff. They seem to like the look too. Or, at least I think they do, quite a few were staring."
"Hmm…on second thought, I think your normal dress is fine," said Clarisse, smiling at Joseph's answering chuckle.
"I'm going to miss you," said Clarisse, her hands moving up his chest to the back of his neck where she teased the short hair at his nape.
"And I'll miss you," he said. "I can still cancel…"
Clarisse shook her head no. "We've discussed this. You need a vacation, and there is no better time than now." Looking into his eyes she continued, "I know you don't like someone else providing security for me, but Carlos and Gil will be with me, and Beatrix's security is more than adequate. Now stop worrying. I'll be fine." Pulling his head down to hers she whispered, "Perhaps you should show me how much you will miss me."
Joseph didn't need to be told twice. He quickly captured Clarisse's lips in a passionate kiss, illustrating exactly how much he was going to miss her. Their passion quickly escalated. Before they lost complete control Clarisse ended the kiss. She stroked Joseph's cheek. "I will miss you," she said.
"And I you," replied Joseph, placing a soft kiss to the palm of her hand.
"Be safe, cariño," she said.
"I will, mi amor. You be safe also," said Joseph. "Listen to Carlos and Gil, please querida. I will call you as often as I can. Te quiero," said Joseph kissing her softly once more.
"Je t'aime," replied Clarisse, offering one last kiss before stepping out of his arms.
Joseph placed a hand over his heart, closed it then opened it again. Clarisse watched him leave. She sent a silent prayer to the heavens for his safe trip, and his even safer return to her.
Four days ago
Joseph pulled into the petrol station near Barcelona. His trip so far had been enjoyable. He had stopped in a few small towns on his way to Barcelona to sightsee, enjoy the local food and accommodations. He had met a few interesting people, and had even been invited to a wedding that had taken place. Neither the bride or groom would accept no for an answer. He soon found himself dancing, eating and drinking, enjoying the hospitality offered him.
Now, he would soon be arriving in Barcelona. His hotel reservations were already confirmed, and Joe couldn't wait to eat at a few of Barcelona's famous restaurants.
As he filled his bike, Joseph flipped open his phone, pressed speed dial and waited.
"Hola, querida," he said when the call was answered.
"Hello, darling," came the reply. "How is your trip so far?"
They talked as Joe filled his bike.
Joe hung up his phone. He placed the pump back on its holder. Mounting his bike, he started it and pulled out into traffic, heading into Barcelona.
Three days ago
"Scott speaking, how may I help you?"
Scott listened, answered the questions asked then assuring the caller that he understood, and to please contact him immediately if he arrived, Scott hung up. He stared at the phone for a few minutes before deciding. He dialled the number Joe had given him, and waited. When it was answered he said, "Your Majesty, this is Scott. Have you heard from Joe?"
Twenty minutes later Scott was booking tickets for himself, and three other on the first flight to Barcelona. After that was done, he called Her Majesty back. Her instructions were straightforward, and when her voice broke Scott swore he would bring him home.
Two days ago
Scott stood in the office looking out at the bustling city of Barcelona. He had hoped that when he, and his team had arrived they would find Joseph enjoying the city, but instead they were met by the Mossos d'Esquadra.
They were informed that Joseph had been abducted by a branch of ETA, the Basque separatist group. Mossos d'Esquadra had at first treated Joseph's abduction as just another tourist abduction, rare but not unheard of. It wasn't until after they had run a background check, discovered he was Head of Security for the Genovian Crown, that they realised why and who had been kidnapped.
Evidently, the branch that kidnapped him wanted sensitive information, and the best way to get that information was from the one man who could tell them everything about the security surrounding the Genovian Crown. Scott had also been told the branch that kidnapped Joe were known for their use of torture, and Captain Vargas held little hope that they would find Joe in time. That was not to say Vargas, and his men weren't looking it was just that when they did find Joe it was highly unlikely he would be alive.
Scott had a hard time accepting that Joe would not be alive when they found him. He was tough, tougher than any man he had ever known. But Scott also worried that even as tough as Joe was he couldn't withstand torture forever. He wondered if Joe would goad his torturers into killing him before he broke.
Joe would die to protect the Crown and Her Majesty. Somehow, Scott was sure if Joe died it would be because he saw his death as an acceptable loss. Scott knew Her Majesty would not see his death as acceptable, but Joe would view it that way. As long as she remained safe he would gladly give his life.
Scott feared that if they didn't find Joe soon he would be the one who would have to inform Her Majesty of Joe's death. Scott knew that Joe loved Her Majesty- you would have to be blind, and an idiot not to see how he felt about her. And he was sure Her Majesty loved Joe as well. He was sure she was simply waiting for Princess Amelia to take the throne before the whole country discovered the truth about their relationship.
And while he knew Her Majesty was a strong woman, he couldn't see her recovering from the loss of Joe.
It would destroy her.
The sound of the office door opening pulled Scott from his thoughts.
"We have found where they are holding him," Vargas said.
At this news Scott moved across the room quickly. Soon he, Vargas, and their combined teams were preparing a raid, and rescue.
Present Time
"Go to hell," Joe rasped in Batua as he hung from the ceiling.
His torturer didn't like his answer.
He resumed beating him, striking his sides repeatedly with the rubber bat.
Joe gasped and grunted at each blow.
Finally, his torturer was ordered to stop. Joe panted through the pain. His head was pulled up.
"Since you refuse to cooperate. I am forced to take extreme measures," the one Joe named Curly said.
Curly grabbed the wand handed to him and Joe's eyes widened when he realized what he was carrying.
"Ah, I see you are familiar with the picana," he said."Since you are familiar with it I won't have to explain what I am going to do with it."
The first touch of the picana caused Joe to buck. The second caused him to yell. The third caused him to scream.
Curly smiled.
They would have their answers soon.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Vargas gave the signal.
Everyone entered quickly and quietly.
Scott swept the area in front of him, concentrating, and listening for any sound that would give him a clue to Joe's location.
The eruption of gunfire blocked out all other sound.
As Scott returned fire, he prayed they would reach Joe before his captors deemed him unnecessary.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Four dead, six under arrest and still no sign of Joe.
They had searched everywhere in the building but hadn't located him.
Scott's gut was telling him this was the place, but so far they had come up with nothing.
Scott stalked back to the prisoners. He could hear Vargas asking where Joe was, and he could hear the answer from the curly-haired suspect.
Scott would have remained calm if he hadn't caught the smirk on the other man's face.
By the time Vargas and the boys had pulled him off Curly, Scott had almost killed the man.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Scott yanked open the door. He saw the prone figure lying on the bed, and his heart leapt.
"He's here," he yelled, running footsteps the only answer to his call.
Scott moved to the bed. He reached out a hand and touched Joe's arm.
He was cold.
So cold.
Scott swiped at the tears on his cheeks.
He moved aside to allow the paramedics room to work.
As they did their job, Scott flipped open his phone, and did his.
The phone rang only once before it was answered.
"Your Majesty," Scott tried to speak around the lump in his throat.
He swallowed and started again.
"Your Majesty, we've found him," he said.
Scott's voice broke.
"He's...he's alive."
The End