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Captivation	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 6307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Bill or Tom Kaulitz or any members of Tokio Hotel and this story is a complete work of fiction; it is all made up and not true. I am not making any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 37
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- 39
In the morning, I call the boys to warn them that I’m coming to their room. I am dressed in a black long-sleeved top, grey and white camouflage pants with lots of pockets and a matching military style cap, my hair tucked up under it. On my feet are my favourite pair of reinforced army boots. A utility belt is buckled around my hips and in its leather compartments are things like a lock-picking tool, plastic cable ties (which I use to bind wrists in place of bulker handcuffs), an LED flashlight, latex gloves, small vials of chloroform and pepper spray, a Taser and a hunting knife. There is also an ammunition pouch and a weapons holster in which sits my semi-automatic handgun. It’s one of the outfits I wear when I am on a paid assignment.
I knock on the twins’ unlocked door and let myself in. I’m a little surprised to find them still in bed, undressed and huddled together, even though I gave them plenty of time to get changed. They are sitting up against the bedhead with bare chests and blankets around their waists, hugging each other in a protectively defiant manner. It’s like they purposefully want me to see what they have done, regardless of whether I’m going to release them or not. It’s their way of showing that they did this on their own, without me or my influence, and they don’t give a shit what I think about it. One last act of rebellion, probably instigated by Tom.
Seeing the arsenal strapped to my body, the older teenager looks wary and edgy but not as scared as he was last night. It seems as though he accepts his fate, whatever that may be. Bill gazes at me with curious eyes, a little shy because of his nudity but not afraid in the slightest. He still trusts me completely, even though I’ve got a gun on one hip and a knife on the other. He still believes I won’t hurt them. His faith and trust is painfully touching.
Leaning against the doorframe, I enquire, “Any final requests?”
“Yeah.” Tom swallows hard to stop his voice from cracking. “Do Bill first. I don’t want him to watch me die.”
How romantically noble, that he would rather be the one who suffers. It’s exactly what I expect from Tom and one of the reasons why Bill is so lucky to have him.
“Did you really think I was going to kill you? I meant any final requests for breakfast, since it’s the last one you’ll be having here.” I keep my voice emotionless, as if them leaving won’t affect me. “Tomorrow, you eat in your own kitchen, in your own house, where you belong.”
“You’re…you’re letting us GO?” Tom exclaims. He sounds utterly disbelieving.
“Why so astounded? I said right from the start that I’d set you free once you’d deepened your relationship and become enlightened.” I glance at the arms they have wrapped closely and supportively around each other, the rumpled sheets and bedclothes covering their naked lower bodies. A violet love-bite stands out vividly on the pale skin of Bill’s throat and there are red nail-marks of passion on Tom’s broad shoulders and upper back.
“Looks like enough enlightenment to me.”
I don’t ask them what they did together or humiliate the teens by making them describe their first time in detail. I already know what they did; I was there watching it, hearing it, feeling it. All I care about now is that it finally happened.
“We’re going home? Today?” Bill questions.
“Yes. Today.”
“Oh,” he says. He doesn’t seem as happy as he should be at the prospect of freedom and returning to his regular, busy, noisy life. But there’s no need for me to keep them any longer. I’ve taught them all I can, guided them in the right direction, and now the rest they have to work out on their own.
“So, no breakfast, then?”
When they don’t reply, I pull out another gun, turn it around and toss it onto the bed. Tom’s gun. He jolts in alarm, even though I’ve unloaded it. “You can have this back now,” I tell him. “These too.”
Digging in my numerous pockets and tossing some more items next to the weapon, I add a small box of bullets, two cell phones with chargers and a black and gold Rolex watch. Turning to leave, I address both of the boys from the doorway.
“Gather the rest of your things together and go the conference room when you’re ready to leave.”
After I’ve gone, they turn their phones on, finally able to see what day of the year it is.
“Holy crap,” Tom comments in shock. “We’ve been down here nearly a whole month!”
“Only a month? Feels like longer,” Bill muses, seeing how many messages are on his display screen, scrolling busily through them. “God, It’s gonna take me days to answer all of these.”
He glances up. “What are we going to tell everyone, Tom?”
“Not the truth, that’s for sure,” the older boy declares. “Can you imagine telling the whole world that we got kidnapped by a Japanese bounty hunter with a split personality disorder who made us watch gay porn and wanted us to have sex with each other?”
Bill’s eyes dart around as he considers what they could say that would cause the least amount of damage to them, their band and their family members. Something believable that won’t give them a ton of bad publicity.
“Okay. We have to give a plausible reason as to why we’ve been missing,” he states decisively, “so after we’ve talked to mom and let everybody else know we’re fine, we’ll hold a press conference and just say that we took an extended vacation, that we wanted to get away from everything and disappear for a while.”
Realising that’s the best idea, Tom nods. “Yeah. We’ll say that we took a break somewhere off the map. People will buy that.”
Explanation sorted, they hastily get dressed in jeans and T-shirts, pack up their other clothes and collect their remaining possessions. Shaking some shells out of the ammo box Tom loads his gun, stuffing it down the back of his jeans and hiding the weapon under his baggy top. Bill sees him do this and frowns in disapproval but doesn’t say anything. Picking up their belongings, the twins head to the conference room to wait for me. I appear in the doorway.
“Ready to go?”
“I guess so,” Bill answers uncertainly, his slim figure surrounded by bags and suitcases.
I help him with the heavier pieces of his luggage, carrying them for him. As we walk down the corridor, he looks sad. I’m sad too and although I didn’t want to show it, my sombre mood is revealed by the quietness of my voice.
“If you guys have left anything behind, I’ll mail it to you.”
“Okay,” says Bill, just as quietly.
“By the way, you better be prepared for what awaits you on the outside. Your disappearance has been on the news and in the papers,” I advise them. “People will want to know where you’ve been for so long.”
The brunette gives a small grimace, not looking forward to all the paparazzi that will inevitably surround them like bloodthirsty vultures. “We figured. And we have a cover story worked out already.”
“Good boy. Just stick with that, act strong and you’ll be all right. You both will.”
When I get to the garage, I enter the password, let Bill in and then hold the door open for Tom.
“After you,” I invite courteously.
“You’re less assholey than usual,” Tom grudgingly comments as he passes me and clomps down the steps. “So, where’s your evil twin today?”
“He’s here. I’ve just taken a few powerful painkillers to hold him down but it won’t last forever. It’s tough to control someone when I can’t just knock them unconscious and tie them to a chair,” I acknowledge as I lock the door again. “It’s like trying to control a ghost.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Bill begins politely as he sets his bags down on the floor. “Where is Keiichi’s body buried?”
Pausing, I turn around before answering. “In our family grave. Well, actually he’s not buried in the ground as such; in Japan most people are cremated and their ashes stored within a large stone monument at the cemetery with all the family members’ names engraved on it,” I inform him. “The living relatives’ names are coloured red and when they die, the red is removed and their ashes join all the others already there. As is the tradition, I had to sift through Kei’s remains after the cremation and remove his bones with chopsticks to place into an urn, which is now inside the gravestone.”
“Are you serious?” Bill gasps, shocked. “You had to do that yourself?”
“It’s a custom in my country; all the close family members help with the ceremony, each with their own pair of chopsticks.” My jaw tightens involuntary. “It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to do but it had to be done.”
“Oh God, Koji. I can’t even imagine...” Swallowing sickly, Bill glances at Tom, trying to conceive how it would feel if he had to do the same to Tom’s burned remains.
Tom however, does not seem to care about my brother’s burial ceremony, instead searching the garage for his beloved Cadillac, scowling when he doesn’t see it anywhere. Some large wooden boxes are stacked along one side (what the arcade games and bouncy boxing ring arrived in when I purchased them) but the only vehicles in here are my black van and a red Japanese-made motorcycle that I ride when I’m on my own.
“Where’s my car?”
“It’s parked down town. Get in and I’ll take you straight to it.” Opening the sliding door to my van, I start loading in their luggage, leaving room for the boys to sit. Bill doesn’t remember being in there as he was drugged at the time but Tom does, staring into the dimly lit cargo compartment as if it’s the mouth of some monster waiting to swallow him whole.
“Sorry, Tom. I know you don’t like the back of this van but I can’t just let you walk out the front door. I can’t let either of you guys see where this place is. The moment you’re out of here, you’ll go right to the cops and hand over the address and then I’ll be royally fucked.”
“We won’t do that,” the younger teenager insists. “”We won’t tell anyone where you live. Will we, Tom?”
Following a pause, Tom shakes his head.
“I’d like to trust you, really, I would,” I begin regretfully, “but in this scenario I’d be seen as the bad guy, and bad guys need to cover their asses or else they end up in jail or shot. You don’t want that to happen to me, do you, Bill? You don’t want me dead?”
“No!” Bill exclaims. “Of course not.”
“Then please, just do as I ask and soon, you’ll both be safely on your way home.”
With a great deal of reluctance, the two musicians climb into the rear of the van, sitting on the foam mattress provided for their comfort. Assuring them that it won’t be for long, I drive them a relatively short distance away, making lots of right and left hand turns so they can’t keep track of which direction I’m taking them and trace me back to my hideout. I park my vehicle on a side street in a quiet area of the city outskirts, away from any houses or main roads. There are a few shops around us but they’re closed. Streetlights are still on but the sun is just beginning to rise, the purple sky gradually lightening to blue.
I let the pair of nineteen year olds out of the van and they climb through the opened door with their luggage, gazing bewilderedly around them once they’re standing on solid ground.
“Your car is just over there, Tom. You got a full tank of gas.” I throw him the keys, which he reflexively catches. “Best of luck with everything, boys. You better get going before these painkillers wear off.”
Bags over their shoulders and by their feet, the Kaulitz twins both stand there looking at me, as if they don’t quite believe what’s happening.
“Go,” I encourage, making a shooing motion. “You’re free. Fly away, little birdies.”
Breathing in cool, fresh air and hearing the nearby sound of early morning traffic, Tom glances around at the road he’s on, looking at buildings, signs and telephone poles, slowly realising that he and Bill are no longer locked underground in a concrete bunker but are outside, in the real world again, with people and cars and grass and trees. Only now that he experiences total freedom can he grasp the full magnitude of the trauma and stress they’ve suffered during these last few weeks as my prisoners. With a surge of sudden fury blazing in his dark gaze, he jerks out his gun, cocking the trigger and aiming the revolver at my chest, much like the first time I met him.
“I should kill you for what you’ve done, you schizophrenic psycho,” he threatens unsteadily.
“Tom, no!” Bill protests, his eyes going wide. “He’s letting us go.”
“He never should have taken us in the first place,” Tom replies tightly, clenching his teeth. “He’s held us hostage for weeks, Bill. He should fucking pay for it!”
“I know you’re angry, Tom,” I empathise softly. “I know I’ve put you through hell and back and I’m truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day. But if you want to pull that trigger, I understand.”
I’m not wearing body armour today, just a black cotton jersey with no protection underneath. But I feel no fear. I’ve grown to understand Tom well enough to be certain he won’t do it, despite what he says. He’s not a murderer.
The traumatised teen keeps staring at me, seeming intensely conflicted, half-enraged and half-confused. His thick brows are drawn together in a furious frown. His hand is shaking badly, his fingers tight around the weapon, the business end aimed right at my heart.
“Don’t,” Bill pleads, touching his twin’s tensed arm. “Don’t shoot him. Please! He hasn’t hurt us.”
Tom ignores his brother. Lips pressed into a thin line, the older twin violently struggles with his own conscience for a few long moments, eventually letting out a defeated breath and lowering his arm.
“Fuck you,” he mutters to me, tucking the revolver back into the waistband of his pants, much to Bill’s weak relief. “From now on, stay the hell away from us. If I ever see you hanging around Bill again, or near our house, or anywhere we go, I WILL shoot you. And I will kill you. Got it?”
“Absolutely. You won’t see me again,” I promise solemnly. Only Bill looks disappointed by that.
“Tom, take care of your little brother. Don’t let anyone else kidnap him, all right? They won’t be as kind as I was.”
The bigger boy disregards me, gathering his bags and nudging Bill’s arm to make him do the same. “C’mon, Bill. Pick up your shit and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Laden with luggage, a reluctant Bill is led down the street by his stronger sibling, the second teen throwing me longing glances over his shoulder. Now that he can walk away, Bill doesn’t seem to want to leave me, unlike Tom, who clearly can’t wait to get out of my presence.
There are birds starting to chirp in the trees around us, completely unmindful of the dramatic scene below them, where two kidnapped rock stars are being released by their captor.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I watch the brown-eyed boys heading towards Tom’s car. After twenty eight wonderful, life-changing days with them, they’re finally going home. Though I’m saddened that Bill and Tom are leaving I know they are on a new journey now, headed for brand new lives, happier lives where they will have all the love they’ll ever need in each other’s arms. I’m so proud of the outstanding young men they became during their stay with me, and will still become over the next few years. They are an exceptional pair of brothers and their bond will continue to flourish and strengthen, just like two trees growing side by side with their roots entangled deep in the ground below. Their relationship will deepen and mature on its own from this point on - steady, secure, strong. Unbreakable.
But this is not all because of what I’ve done. They had this growth and strength within them the whole time. All I did was plant the seeds and watch them sprout. With a paternal kind of pride, I know that they’ll both be just fine without me.
Although, I have to wonder how they’re going to react when they get home and find the digital disc I’ve hidden in their luggage.
The disc with all the video footage of them on it.
Unaware of this little homecoming gift, they arrive at the Cadillac and Tom unlocks it, quickly stuffing their belongings into the trunk. Abruptly, Bill drops his bags onto the ground, breaks away from Tom and starts running back to me.
“Hey!” Tom exclaims, aghast. “Get BACK here, Bill!”
The dreadlocked teen swears loudly and kicks one of Bill’s suitcases across the pavement when his order is disobeyed.
Out of breath, Bill reaches me at the side of the van, throwing his slender arms around my middle and squeezing me in a frantic fashion.
“Bye, Koji,” he farewells brokenly, sounding as though he’s going to cry. “I hope you get better one day. I hope your brother goes away and leaves you alone because he’s mean. But you’re not. You’re a good person and I like you a lot.”
Dammit. Even knowing everything that he does, why is he still so nice to me? That innate niceness, empathy and compassion makes all the walls I’ve erected around myself crumble like dry plaster. Enfolding his trembling frame in my arms, I return Bill’s fiercely-given hug with a mixture of poignant emotions.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I like you a lot too,” I manage to choke out, bursting with so many other things I want to tell him but am not sure I actually should. I suppose since he’s going home, it doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, it will be my last chance. My only chance. I decide to make the most of it, even though I can hear Keiichi hissing venomously at the back of my mind, threatening me not to say anything else or he’ll make me suffer. But I don’t listen. He’s not real and he’s not running my life any longer. I am and I will say whatever I please.
“You know, Bill, before I met you I didn’t care if I was unstable or had serious issues but now, I hope I get better one day too. You’ve made me WANT to get better.” Pulling the kid closer, I bury my face in his silky black hair, breathing in the sweetness of his scent and trying to memorise it. “When I lost my brother I thought my heart died along with him but you’ve made me want to love again. If I could find somebody like you, baby, I’d be a very happy man.”
“You will,” Bill whispers sadly. “And if you can’t find anybody, come find me.”
That almost makes me weep. If I don’t let this beautiful teenager go now, I will never let him go at all and I can’t do that. I can’t keep him. He’s not mine to keep.
“Guess this is goodbye, kiddo. I will cherish every single minute I spent with you and think of you every day,” I confess to Bill in a rough voice, my heart breaking behind my ribs. “You boys mean the world to me and I’m going to miss you both so much. Please tell Tom that, all right?”
He shakes his head against my chest, eyes welling with moisture. “I don’t wanna go.”
“You have to.” I tip his chin up so our gazes can connect, my thumb tracing around the soft pink mouth I never got to taste. “Listen Bill, if you want to see me again, to talk about any of this or ask me any questions, you can meet me here in exactly a year’s time. See that café over there?”
I direct his gaze across the street. It’s shut and all the windows are locked as it’s still well before business hours begin but the café’s name is clearly visible on the sign hung over the doorway.
“That’s where I’ll be, when it opens. Twelve months from today. This exact date. Okay?”
“Okay,” he replies but in the excitement and bewilderment of finally being released I’m not sure if he’ll even remember where we are or what I’ve just told him.
“Bill, hurry UP!” Tom yells, impatiently slamming the trunk of the car shut. “Get your fucking ass over here right now!”
Throwing his irate twin a quick glance, Bill turns back to me, stares into my eyes for a few fearless, intense seconds and then suddenly plants a hard, almost desperate kiss of parting upon my lips, completely taking me by surprise.
Before I can even respond, he pulls away with a gasp.
Tom is beside us, his gun pressing into my ribs. “Let my brother go,” he growls.
“We were just saying our goodbyes,” I reply, opening my arms so Bill can step out of them and then putting my hands up. “Take it easy, Tom.”
“Take it EASY?” With his eyebrows lifted, Tom starts ranting, gesturing at me with the weapon in his hand. “After everything you did to us, motherfucker? And now you’re telling ME to-”
A loud crack echoes through the dawn air, silencing him and all the birds. At first I think it’s a car backfiring but then I feel something wet dripping over my nipple. Blinking, I look down to see a dark red stain spreading across the front of my shirt, a frayed hole visible in the black fabric.
Numb with shock, I dizzily crumple to the ground on my knees, clutching my chest, warm blood seeping through my fingers.
Tom gawps at me, frozen, the fired revolver still pointed in my direction.
“NOOOOOOOO!” Bill screams, shattering the silence with an ear-piercing cry.
“Fuck. We gotta go, Bill. Gotta go now,” the first twin babbles, throwing the gun into some nearby bushes in panic and dragging a struggling, screaming Bill away.
“No! Koji, no!” Tears spilling down his cheeks, Bill frantically reaches out, trying to get back to me but Tom restrains him. “Tom, let me go. LET ME GO!”
Roughly, Tom forces his thrashing little brother into the passenger side of his car and slams the door, the older teen hurriedly getting into the driver’s seat. The Cadillac starts up and its headlights come on. Then the expensive vehicle roars away with a squeal of tyres, taking the boys with it, leaving me bleeding on the pavement.
I stare at my hand, covered in blood. And then I topple over sideways, the entire world going black.
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Captivation