Fic: Numb3rs, Don/Colby, NC-17
Title: Fixing a Hole
Author: starlettmalfoy
Pairing: Don/Colby
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Vague references to torture, angst, hurt/comfort, rimming, very light bondage, D/s, smut.
Spoilers: Seasons 1-4
Word Count: 10,093
Summary: Don is missing, and Colby wants him back.
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Author's Note: This was written for the numb3rs_newyear challenge, and I'm crossposting it here and on my writing journal. Thanks to my lovely betas, sororcula and devon99. Without them, this would have been absolutely impossible. Enjoy!
Fixing a Hole
Saturday, 9:30 p.m.
He could see the twisted, shredded remains of his clothing lying in the corner. The gag in his mouth was heavy and wet, and his jaw ached as he bit down around it for the millionth time that hour. Breathing harshly through his nose, he felt his sandpaper tongue scrape across the coarse fabric uncomfortably. His throat burned, and he desperately needed to swallow, something that was near impossible to do around the cloth in his mouth. Blood trickled into his eyes slowly, maddeningly, and blinking did nothing to ease the discomfort or the pain. He could feel it as it began to dry on his eyelashes, starting to encrust them together. Soon he wouldn't be able to blink at all.
"Now, Agent Eppes," he flinched as the voice of his masked captor hissed into his ear, "we're gonna have a little more fun."
In spite of himself, Don whimpered through his gag as the knife flashed before his eyes, the light catching on the shiny steel blade. Against his will, his limbs shook weakly as he tried yet again to free himself, struggling against the bonds that held him fast to the unyielding wooden chair.
"And I think I'm gonna enjoy this."
***
12 hours earlier: Saturday, 9:30 a.m.
Charlie sighed in frustration as Don's voice mail came over the line again. Snapping the phone shut, he began to search the room. Spying what he hoped was a clean shirt hanging out of an open drawer, he grabbed it and shrugged it on, along with his jeans, and made his way downstairs.
Alan sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand. His eyes focused on the crossword in front of him.
"Charlie! Just the man I needed to see. Remind me," he tried to sound casual, "what do you call 'a letter used to represent a number'?"
The younger Eppes grinned at his father. "A variable, of course."
Alan nodded, as if he'd known this all along. "Of course, of course, how silly of me."
Charlie heard the sound of the pen scratching at the newspaper and his smile faded as he hastily poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"Have you talked to Don lately?" He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but Alan glanced up, concerned anyway.
"No, why?"
"We were supposed to watch the game last night, but he never showed and his phone is off."
Alan's forehead creased. "Charlie, don't you think that's something you should have mentioned earlier?" Charlie winced at the disapproval in his father's voice. "Maybe you should call the office, see if he's on a case."
The mathematician nodded, "Of course. I was going to. In fact," he fished his phone back out of his pocket and flipped it open, "I will right now."
It rang just once before the person on the other end answered.
"Reeves."
"Megan, hey."
"Charlie! How are you?" He could hear the smile in her voice. Heading out the door, he waved goodbye to his father and grabbed the keys to his beloved Prius.
"Good, good. Listen, uh, have you talked to Don yet today?"
"No, he's not on duty today. Why, Charlie, what's wrong?"
He shook his head, although she couldn't see him. "Nothing, nothing. He was supposed to watch the game with me last night, but he probably just fell asleep on the couch or something." He hoped. "I'm going to head over there after my class and make sure he's okay. I'm sure it's fine."
Megan laughed lightly, "I'm sure he just exhausted himself. We just closed a major case a few days ago, and we're all pretty tired. But let me know as soon as you hear from him, okay? And try not to wake him if he is asleep."
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Megan." He started the car easily and pulled out of the drive. His fingers tapped nervously on the wheel until he chastised himself for worrying. Pushing it out of his mind, he focused on the upcoming lecture and headed to CalSci.
***
Saturday, 11:00 p.m.
In all of his years at the FBI, he never once thought he'd be in this position. A victim. Even with all of the case files he'd looked at, all of the faces staring up from the photographs in his hands, he'd never realized exactly what those people had gone through. In his mind, they had been victimized, sure, but he hadn't allowed himself to really wonder. How much pain had they been in? How were their last hours spent? Did they think someone was coming for them? If he had let his thoughts stray to that, his mind would have driven itself mad a long time ago. And now, here he was, naked and strapped down to the cold wood of a cheap, blood-stained chair, bound, helpless, and terrified. His muscles strained again with effort as he tried in vain to break free of the duct tape that cut a path into his skin. His wrists were bloody and chafed from the attempts before, and he groaned aloud as a new wave of pain washed over him.
He was alone for the moment. His faceless kidnappers had left the room, leaving him to contemplate his fate. Another classic technique. They intended to keep him guessing. Until he broke, thinking of the horrors they had yet to inflict upon him. He swallowed convulsively as his brain struggled to recall the classes at Quantico that had taught him how to resist interrogation. Pain lanced through his torso, reminding him of his bruised ribs.
Interrogation, he thought bitterly, but not mindless torture. The rest of his mind rebelled, letting the terror creep into his emotions as easily as the breath had left him when they kicked him into submission earlier that day.
That day? Or was it yesterday? He tried to reason that he had only been there less than two days, but in reality, he had no idea the passage of time. Statistics said that once a person was kidnapped, they had a 48 hour window to live. The fact that he was still alive gave him a glimmer of hope. Though, he thought grimly, these were no ordinary kidnappers.
Their movements had been methodical, planned. He was almost sure that they had left no trace of their presence when they nabbed him in the dark outside of his own apartment. They wore gloves, masks, and were heavily armed. His cell phone had been thrown out the window of the van as he struggled in the back, bucking under their hands as they fought to tie him down. He couldn't hear over the sounds of his own struggle, but he was sure it had been shattered on the pavement. The GPS unit that was embedded in the small device would be rendered utterly useless.
And he still didn't know what they wanted from him, other than to see him writhe beneath their hands, screaming behind the gag.
***
Saturday, 6 p.m.
Charlie watched the blood seep from beneath a jagged fingernail and thought only of the pattern that the rivulets made as they ran down his skin. Ignoring the pain, he brought his other hand to his mouth and began to methodically chew the nail on that index finger down to the quick as well. It was better than tearing his hair out, after all.
"Don?" Charlie called again as he groped in the dark for a light switch. The TV was as silent as the rest of the apartment, a fact which shook the mathematician badly. Instinctively, Charlie knew something was wrong. The keys dangled in the door, left there in his panic as he ran from room to room, searching.
"When's the last time you heard from him, Charlie?" Colby's voice was low and soothing, as if trying to calm a skittish horse. He held a wad of tissue out to the mathematician, and Charlie took it automatically, trying to stifle the flow of the blood on his hand. Charlie stared at the splash of red that came away with the tissue, vaguely noting the lack of chalk dust. He couldn't think. Couldn't do the math, didn't know where to start. A thousand scenarios of Don's capture and possible death played behind his eyelids and Charlie couldn't even think about P vs. NP, his normal refuge, let alone anything relevant that would help get Don back. Amita and Larry could be seen across the bullpen in one of the war rooms, furiously scouring the databases for anything that could help. Swallowing his self-loathing for a moment, Charlie finally looked up at Colby, who was still trying to get him to answer.
"Y-yesterday afternoon," he croaked, lips cracked and raw from chewing on them.
Megan frowned and let out a shaky breath. "His cell goes right to voice mail. We're still working on bringing up the GPS, but so far, they can't pin it down."
Charlie saw the quick glance exchanged between the two FBI agents. "What? What does that mean?" His voice shook.
Colby took a deep breath, "Well, we're not sure," he began carefully, "but usually it means that the phone itself has been..."
"Destroyed." It came out as a whisper as Charlie filled in the blank himself.
Colby nodded and slowly walked up to the other man. Strong, calloused hands were set upon his shoulders, and Charlie found himself looking into a pair of determined green eyes.
"I'll get him back, Charlie."
The breath left Charlie all at once as he saw the raw emotion there. Guilt, resolve, and something else. Something that made Charlie's doubts pause for a moment as he considered this new variable in the equation. He nodded slowly, daring to hope.
"I believe you."
***
Colby held up a labeled plastic bag for the rest of the group to see. Inside were various metal and plastic fragments, the shattered remains of a cell phone.
"This was found a couple of blocks from Don's apartment." He spoke professionally, letting his undercover FBI training slide through his body, hiding his emotions. Inside this room were agents from almost every department, and he'd be damned if he showed them any weakness. They had the combined forces of the FBI, DEA, and even NSA working on the case, courtesy of their resident mathematician. Honestly, Colby wasn't sure he wanted to know what strings Charlie had to pull in order for them to get involved.
"Forensics determined that it's only been there since about nine or ten last night. This puts his-" he faltered slightly in spite of himself, "-abduction right around the time that he was supposed to be leaving to meet Charlie, which is what we already figured."
He gave the agents a hard look and pursed his lips. "What we don't know is how, why, or who. Get on it people. One of ours is missing, and we make that a top priority. No one sleeps, eats, or breathes until Don is back with us."
At the clear dismissal, Megan rose and began to single out specific individuals, assigning them different tasks.
"Li. Go through his phone records. Find out if he's had any contact with anyone unusual in the last few months. When you're done with that, pull any files you can find that have any record of Don being threatened by anyone."
"David, go talk to Liz and Robin, and hell, even call Terry. See if they know anything that could help us, anyone who'd want to hurt Don." At the look David gave her, she grimaced. "I know, it'll be a long list, but we have to start somewhere." He nodded and took off, cell phone already in hand.
Megan turned to Colby and took another breath to steady herself. "Colby, I need you to talk to Alan and Charlie." Her voice dropped to a soothing lilt. She had been watching Colby carefully since the news broke, and she suspected he was taking it harder than anyone else besides Charlie. Despite him trying to hide it, she noticed the little things- how pale he had become when Charlie broke the news, how he ran his hand through his hair every few minutes, how he clenched his hands into fists periodically, holding back a bigger emotion.
The other agent nodded, his eyes already shuttered against Megan's gaze. "Right." Without another word, he walked out of the conference room and headed for the elevators.
***
Sunday, 2 a.m.
His nerves were beginning to fray. It had already been 8 hours since Charlie had burst through the doors of the building, shouting about how Don was missing, and they were just as in the dark as they were before.
Colby ran a hand through his cropped hair as he tried not to think about his meeting with Alan just a few hours ago. The eldest Eppes had been distraught, on the verge of tears, and Colby had been at a loss. How could he comfort someone else when his own emotions were threatening to overwhelm him? He couldn't give Alan any hope, because he was starting to lose his own. They had scoured Don's phone records and found nothing unusual. The suspects most likely to have carried something like this out who had threatened Don in some way or another were either listed as behind bars or dead. Now they were left grasping at straws, going on wild goose chases based on partial descriptions of vehicles in the area. A sharp spike of pain pierced his heart and he swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat.
Colby had always looked up to the senior agent, even when he was lying to him all those years. It had ripped Colby apart inside as he had sat in that cold jail cell, thinking about how Don had thought him a traitor. It had taken him a long time after that to come to terms with why Don's opinion had mattered so much. Laying his head on his desk, he remembered the moment it had hit him, the moment that he couldn't deny his attraction anymore.
It had been a standard case. Another bank robbery, this time by two high school students with too much angst and time on their hands. The pair had been hitting small town banks across California, making off with only a few thousand dollars with each job. The team had been called in after one of the boys became a bit too trigger-happy and had downed an off-duty police officer.
They had brought the robbers down in a quiet suburban home right outside of LA, tracking them there via an anonymous tip. Colby had been behind Don as they burst in the front door, surging past the confused family members as they searched the house.
"Clear!" Colby yelled as he finished searching the bedrooms upstairs. Don nodded and they made their way to the basement door. Finding it locked, Don's leg came up and kicked the wood hard, splintering it at the latch. Colby watched with a sick fascination as Don's muscles moved under his thigh holsters, letting his eyes travel up to Don's powerful arms that rippled under the tight FBI shirtsleeves that peaked out from the bulletproof vest. Adrenaline already surged through his veins from the situation they were in, and it combined with a sudden, undeniable arousal that had left him panting and slightly hard under his own uniform.
Lost in the memory, Colby let his eyes fall shut. He was still so tired, and was starting to feel the beginnings of a migraine. The hum of the computers in the bullpen was strangely soothing, and his breathing soon became deep and regular.
***
"We've got something!"
Colby's head shot up at the sound of Megan's voice piercing through the gloom of the office. His eyes struggled to adjust to the light that was slowly filtering through the windows. His eyes widened in alarm and he checked his watch. 7:30 a.m.
Shit, I fell asleep! And no one woke me. Probably thought they were doing me a god damned favor. He had been at the office for what seemed like weeks, after all, only stopping to eat once in a while. If... when we get Don back, I'm going to sleep for a week.
Colby rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wake up, longing for a nice cup of coffee and a shower. Trying to focus, he stood as Megan hurried over, sending David to get the others. A sheet of paper was clutched in her hand, and Colby restrained himself from grabbing it to see what was going on.
"We found him?" he asked anxiously. Megan paused as she saw David, Charlie, Amita, and Larry hurry out of the break room, each clutching a cup of coffee in their hands and wearing identical anxious expressions. As soon as they were near, she nodded to them.
"Maybe," she continued. The excitement present in her voice despite the noncommittal answer obviously baffled the others, as they each gave her a look of confusion and expectancy. "One of Don's neighbors remembers seeing a van sitting in the parking lot a few hours before he was taken. She managed to give us a pretty good description once we tracked her down at her job. She worked the night shift, so we hadn't been able to find her until then. I put out an APB on the van a few hours ago and we just got a match from the LAPD downtown. I've sent a few agents to check it out."
Colby tried not to look too disappointed, but Megan picked up on it anyway. "I know, it's not much. But it's something, right? We just don't..." She trailed off.
We just don't have anything else to go on... Colby finished in his head morosely. He sighed and dug the heals of his palms into his eyes. "When will we hear from them?"
"Soon, I think. They're about to move in."
Colby nodded and followed the group to the surveillance room. Once inside, he grabbed a free headset and listened to the radio chatter.
"Sighting confirmed. Van is an older model Dodge Ram, dark green. Running the tags." Colby held his breath. "Stolen. Registered to a Howard Blum, reported missing three days ago."
"A day before Don was taken." David commented, raising his eyebrows. Colby's features darkened and he clenched his hand into a fist, fighting the instinct to lash out at the poor, unsuspecting wall next to him. Charlie had his fingers in his mouth again, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly as he listened to the situation. Amita touched his elbow softly and he gave her a quick smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Megan cleared her throat, "Search the van. Discreetly, people, I don't want them to be tipped off if these are our guys."
"Roger that."
The agents waited a few minutes before the team confirmed that they were inside the van. A preliminary search turned up nothing, and Colby gritted his teeth, looking at David. Showing the same frustration, David nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Megan sighed and braced herself on the table in front of her, eyes downcast.
"Anything else?"
"No, ma'am. We've- wait a minute..." Six pairs of eyes snapped back to the surveillance equipment, wishing they could see what was going on. "We've got traces of blood here. Looks like they tried to clean it up, but they just missed some. Should we proceed?"
"Negative. We can't be sure its his. Bring in a sample." Megan sighed, trying not to get her hopes up. "If it matches Don's, we've got 'em." She set the headset down and braced herself on the desk in front of her, hanging her head. Larry came up beside her and slipped his arm around her waist, disregarding their normal rules when it came to displays of affection in the office.
***
An hour later the tests were complete and Colby was struggling into his TAC gear alongside his partner, cursing as the straps fumbled in his shaking hands.
"You alright, man?" David sounded worn out and concerned.
"Yeah." Colby grunted. "Just worried. Same as everyone else."
David shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "Don't pull that crap on me, Granger. I know you better than most people around here. This is hitting you harder than anyone else. I mean, it's Don, and we all want him back, but with you it's... different."
Colby didn't meet his gaze. "I don't want to talk about it."
David looked at him for a few seconds, before nodding slowly. "Okay then. I'll let it go. For now."
Colby nodded tersely, knowing he wouldn't be off of the hook for long, and finished tugging on his boots.
"Let's go."
***
Sunday, 9:45 a.m.
Colby's heart raced as he peered from behind his sunglasses at the building across the street. They were in the warehouse district, and the brick facade of the one in front of them looked almost identical to the rest that littered the area.
The difference was, this one happened to be where the tip had led them to. The labs had ran the test on the blood found in the stolen van and come back as a positive match for Don. Colby took a deep breath and turned to David, who was sitting in the driver's seat. David's eyes were locked on the entrance to the building, his mouth set in a firm line.
"What are we waiting for? Are we just gonna sit here until it's too late?" He was losing his patience fast.
David blinked once and spoke, never taking his eyes off of the door. "We wait for Megan to make the call. We have S.W.A.T. teams moving in from behind, as well as snipers on the surrounding rooftops." Finally, he chanced a glance away, meeting Colby's eyes.
"If Don's in there, we'll get him."
Colby nodded tersely and tried to keep his hand from twitching toward his gun.
The radio crackled a moment later and Megan's voice filtered through the headset.
"Okay guys. Move in carefully. We don't want to spook them."
Colby swallowed as hundreds of scenarios where they did just that and Don ended up on the floor in a pool of blood swam before his eyes. His hand found the door handle and he dropped from the van into a semi-crouch, heading diagonally toward the door.
David signaled to him and Colby nodded, showing he was ready. David's fingers flashed up in a silent countdown.
1...
2...
3...
With a guttural yell of "FBI! FREEZE!" Colby kicked in the door, gun at the ready.
The first thing he registered was the smell. Blood, piss, and vomit reached his nose and he fought off the urge to drop his weapon and cover his mouth in disgust and horror. The sensation intensified as his eyes caught up with his nostrils.
Both David and the S.W.A.T. team stationed around back had already made quick work of most of the suspects. The gunshots were still ringing in Colby's ears as he peered into the dim light of what appeared to be one large, mostly concrete room. What he found made both his anger spike and his blood run cold.
Don was naked and covered with dozens of bruises, cuts, and burns. Colby restrained himself from running forward as Don's head lolled back onto the chair he was bound to. A bloodied knife was being pressed to his throat, and Colby's stomach flipped as he tried to discern whether or not he was too late. He was answered quickly by man who was holding the other end.
"Don't move! Don't come any closer or he dies!"
Colby swallowed a surge of relief that Don was alive. He could see the knife being pressed harder into Don's skin, a thin ribbon of blood blossoming to the surface. At the man's shout, David had rushed into the room, gun raised. He stopped next to Colby, facing their adversary.
"Not gonna happen. You're not walking out of here if he doesn't." Colby made sure his voice conveyed the very real threat seriously.
David took one hesitant step closer and the perpetrator tensed. David held up a hand, trying to calm him down.
"Look man, you don't wanna do this." David's voice was hard but rational, trying to appeal to something inside of this man. "He dies, and you're facing charges of assault, kidnapping, and the murder of a federal agent." David took another step and Colby clenched his teeth. "And that means the death penalty."
"Yeah, and that's if I don't get to you first," Colby snapped out, his voice low and deadly. David glanced over at his partner nervously. He'd seen agents on the edge before, and Colby was dangling over it dangerously.
David turned back to the perp and tried again, "Drop the knife. No one else has to die here today."
Colby watched as the man struggled with the knowledge that he was finished. The agent saw the inevitable thought that crossed every criminal's mind where they realize they have no other options except death or incarceration. The gunmetal cut into his hand, waiting for the man to make his decision. One would end with a bullet.
The knife clattered to the ground and David swooped in immediately, grabbing the man's arms and fastening the cuffs around them.
Colby raced to Don's side, blood rushing in his ears as his heart sped up. Two fingers automatically jumped to his neck and found a pulse. The skin under his touch was feverish, but the heartbeat was there. A lump formed in Colby's throat as Don's eyelids fluttered and opened. They were glazed and slightly unfocused, but there was an awareness there that made Colby breathe a small sigh of relief. Colby quickly undid the knot behind Don's head, freeing him from the gag. He watched apprehensively as Don swallowed a few times before trying to speak.
"C-Colby?"
His voice was no more than a whisper. Don's vocal cords sounded like they'd been shredded from screaming. Colby drew the knife that he carried in his boot and carefully sliced away the bindings. The agent in the chair slumped forward, and Colby caught him, lowering him to the ground. He smoothed Don's damp hair off of his forehead and cradled his body gently, mindful of the various cuts and bruises that mottled his skin.
"I've got you Don," he murmured. "It's over. I've got you." He repeated it over and over again, trying to hold himself together until the ambulance arrived. The agent watched as the E.M.T.s gently lifted Don onto the stretcher and strapped him to it, finally giving into the urge to reach out for the other man's hand that hung limply over the side.
"Sir, we need you to-" Colby cut him off.
"I'm going with him." His eyes were challenging, daring the young paramedic to tell him otherwise. Wisely, the E.M.T. shut his mouth and nodded, letting Colby climb into the back of the ambulance as well. Colby turned to the rest of the team before the doors swung shut.
"David, make sure Alan and Charlie get to the hospital." David nodded and watched as the doors in front of him closed. The sirens began to wail and he stepped back, cell phone already in his hand to deliver the news.
***
Beep. Beep. Beep. Don flinched at the harsh, low sound that had roused him from a dreamless slumber. He groaned as his mind started registering the pain his body was in now that he was awake. Needing to know what was happening to him this time, he forced his eyes open. It took him a few seconds to take stock of where he was. The linen under his skin was cool and crisp. Bandages were wrapped around his wrists, ankles, and torso. Don looked at the I.V. in his arm for a moment before his attention was captured by the man sleeping by his side.
Colby's head rested near Don's hand on the bed. The rest of his body was awkwardly perched in a rather uncomfortable-looking chair that had been moved as close to the bed as it possibly could be. Colby's shoulders rose and fell slightly as he breathed. The pain medication in Don's veins dulled his senses for the most part, but the sight still left him a little breathless. He blinked back a few tears as he realized that he was safe and that Colby hadn't left his side. Don tried to push the thoughts of what had happened to him out of his mind, but try as he might, the memory of Colby cradling Don in his arms, telling him that they had found him, would not go away.
Don's arm twitched as he summoned all the energy he could into moving it. After a bit of effort, his hand lifted and came down onto Colby's head. The feel of his agent's hair below his fingertips reassured him that this was real, and Don almost started sobbing with relief and gratitude. Before he could take his hand away, Colby stirred and lifted his upper body. Don's hand fell to the other man's shoulder.
"Hey." Don's voice was nothing more than a harsh croak, and he winced a little as his throat burned with the effort it took to speak.
Colby immediately straightened up, all sleepiness gone from his body.
"Don! You're awake!" He didn't care how he sounded, he was so overjoyed.
Don simple nodded, deciding that he probably should only speak when necessary. A sharp pang of thirst shot through him, however, and he rasped out one word, "Water?"
Colby nodded and stood, crossing the room quickly. A pitcher and a glass sat on the table near the door, and he poured some for Don. He brought it to him and helped him sit up, lifting the glass to his lips. After Don had taken a few small sips, Colby set the glass on the stand next to the bed and hit the button on the wall. A moment later, an old, matronly nurse walked into the room. She checked Don's vitals and asked him a few questions before dosing him with more pain meds. As she was turning to leave, Don called out to her, though it took some effort.
"N-nurse?" She turned. "Can I see my family?" She gave him a small smile and nodded once.
"Yes, but only for a few minutes. You still need your rest, Agent Eppes." At this she gave Colby a hard look. He nodded to show he understood and would enforce this rule and not interfere. She left, apparently satisfied.
Colby cleared his throat, "Alan and Charlie were here earlier, but Charlie was almost dead on his feet. Your father drove him home to get a few hours of sleep and something to eat, but they should be back soon."
"Why did you stay?"
Colby's head snapped back to his senior agent, the question coming out of nowhere. He shook his head, trying to come up with a suitable answer without giving himself away.
Say something, Granger! His mind screamed at him. After a few seconds of opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he ground out, "Wanted to." Oh, great move. Now he's either going to suspect something's up or think you're insane. The thought almost made him chuckle bitterly. But maybe you are.
Don gave him a funny look and might have said something in return, but was interrupted as the door swung open. Charlie rushed into the room, flushed. His curls fell into his eyes, which Colby noticed were dangerously close to spilling over with tears.
"Donnie, I'm so s-"
"Hey, c'mon Chuck. It's alright." Don's voice was still raspy, but he was smiling a little, Colby noticed. His eyes wrinkled at the corners, and Colby had to look away, knowing his expression of adoration wouldn't go unnoticed.
"No. I should have known... when you didn't show..." Charlie reached out for Don's hand and clasped it firmly, careful of the I.V. "I should have known," he repeated.
Don shook his head as best as he was able to. "You couldn't have, Charlie. And I'm okay. Really. I'll be okay."
Colby stared at the floor, wondering if Don really would be. He kept his gaze down and thought about it as Megan, Larry, and David came in and out of the room, expressing their relief at his return. He thought about it as Don's head fell back onto the pillow, exhausted.
But he began to believe it when Don looked at him before falling asleep, and offered three little words.
"Colby? Thank you."
Colby's fingers were squeezed for a second before he realized he was holding Don's hand, and had been the entire time.
***
Megan pursed her lips as she gazed around the office. It had been two months since Colby and the team had pulled Don out of that warehouse, and everyone was still walking around in denial. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out how Colby felt about Don as he sat by his hospital bed day in and day out. She, however, was apparently the only one willing to acknowledge it.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Don finished up the paperwork for the case they had just closed. He sighed and buried his hand in his hair, looking tired.
Enough is enough. She thought to herself. It's time to give these boys a push.
"Don?" Her voice carried over the cubicles softly as she approached. His answering smile didn't quite reach his eyes. None of his smiles had, not since before the Sanchez brothers had tortured him in revenge for putting their father behind bars.
"We should all go out for a drink to celebrate." She indicated the closed case file. "I think we could all use it, don't you?"
Don hesitated a moment and then nodded, "Yeah, that sounds good. Should we meet up at Gonzalez'?"
"Sounds good to me. I'll make sure Colby and David are free."
She noticed how he shifted slightly in his chair at the mention of Colby's name and she fought back another smile.
"Right. I'll see you there, then. Don't let me drink too much though. I have another session with Bradford in the morning." He didn't bother to conceal his irritation at this last part, his frustration with his assigned therapist already well known.
Megan touched his shoulder briefly, silently letting him know that she was there for him before turning back to her own desk.
***
Don knew he was good and drunk, even though he had promised himself that tonight would be different. He cradled the glass of- What was this stuff again? -liquor in his hands carefully, trying in vain to pace himself a little.
It didn't help his drinking habits that Colby sat painfully close to him at the bar, clutching his second beer of the night. Don grimaced as his mind strayed to things he'd rather not think about, and to counter it, he took another swig of his drink.
David and Megan had just left, leaving just the two of them. They had made up excuses and practically ran out the door, whispering to each other the entire time. Don's stomach twisted with nervousness at being alone with Colby again, something he hadn't done since the hospital. Colby had stayed by his side for nearly a week as Don healed, leaving only to take care of basic necessities. At first, Don had been too heavily medicated to wonder about it, but as the week wore on, the relief he had felt blossomed into a nervous curiosity. Don managed to push that feeling aside and pretended that he didn't notice the constant touches, the attention. And now, months later, he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he might even be missing it.
Damn it, Eppes, don't think about that! Of course, the only thing left to think about were the nightmares that plagued him each night, leaving him to wake up in a cold sweat as the feeling of knives faded from his skin. His features darkened at the thought, his hands squeezing the glass in front of him tighter.
In one swift motion, the senior agent finished his drink and stood, bracing himself on the bar as he began to sway dangerously.
"Woah, there." Colby's voice shot through the haze of Don's mind, making his heart race. It took him a few seconds to realize that Colby's arm had come around Don's waist to steady him, and now he desperately had to resist the urge to twist into the embrace.
"'M fine." Don mumbled. "Jus' need some air."
Colby, looking more sober than he probably should have, nodded and helped Don to the door, spilling them both into the dimly lit alleyway. Once outside, the fresh air hit Don's lungs abruptly, and he found himself taking gulping, desperate breaths.
"Don? You alright there?" Don shook his head mutely, trying to hold it together. The bridge of his nose tingled as the alcohol tried to toy with his emotions and he fought the urge to tear up.
"C'mon, let's get you into a cab or something." Colby took the lead, arm still wrapped firmly around the other man. He stepped nearer to the street and waved down a taxi. Once inside, he gave the directions to Don's place to the driver, and they rode quietly there. Every couple of minutes, the only sound to break through the silence was a sharp intake of breath from Don as he was jostled by a turn. After paying the driver, Colby helped Don out of the car and through the parking lot, careful not to let him stumble.
"You got your keys?" He kept his voice low. Don nodded and clumsily fished them out of his pocket, handing them over to the other man. Reaching the door, Colby slid them into the lock and opened the door, immediately combing the walls blindly for the light switch.
Don shook his head. "It's burnt out anyway."
He knew his apartment pretty well while sober, so after a couple of missteps, Don managed to find the couch and settle himself onto it. Colby stood in front of him, barely illuminated by the soft light of the street lamps filtering through the window. Don watched as the agent shifted nervously on his feet, hands stuck firmly in his pockets.
"I should probably-"
"No." Don took a breath and kept his gaze focused on the other man. "Stay."
Colby hesitated again. It had sounded almost like an order, and Colby was used to following orders, but the rational part of his mind screamed at him to get out of there.
"I really should-"
Don cut him off again. "Please."
Colby nodded slowly, his resolve weakening. "Alright. I'm going to get you some water, and then I'll stay. Just for a little while."
Don sank back into the cushions in relief. He didn't know where this sudden desire not to be alone came from, but in the haze that wrapped around his brain, he couldn't find the urge to analyze it too closely. He heard the tap running in the kitchen and relaxed further, allowing the tension to slowly bleed from his body.
Colby came back into the room and set the glass down on the coffee table, shuffling aside the mounds of paperwork and empty takeout boxes to make room. After a moment of glancing from the spot on the couch next to Don and the chair on the other side of the table, he chose the couch, and tried to keep his breathing steady as he settled next to the other man.
Don's head rested against the back of the couch, giving him an uninhibited view of the ceiling. He drunkenly counted the divots in the cheap plaster for a minute before giving up with a sigh.
I'm a mess.
He must have said it out loud, because Colby's hand was on his shoulder now, squeezing it comfortingly. Don's head lolled a little to the side as he turned to look at the man beside him. Without much of a thought, Don reached his hand out and wrapped it tightly around Colby's wrist, squeezing hard. Don's breath quickened as he saw the other agent's eyes flutter shut, and the next thing he knew, he was moving in, crashing his lips against Colby's.
Colby responded immediately, moaning as Don's tongue lapped against his mouth. He parted his lips, opening himself to the other man, and groaned again as he felt Don move closer. Don pressed against his body, using his weight to push him down onto his back. Colby felt Don's hands slide around his hips and tug his shirt up. He gasped as Don's calloused fingertips finally came in contact with skin.
Breaking away, Colby panted, taking in Don's flushed appearance. "W-we shouldn't-"
"Shut up."
Colby squeezed his eyes shut and arched as Don's lips descended to his neck, sucking hard. His own fingers scrabbled at Don's button-down, clumsily attacking the buttons that were in the way of reaching his goal. Don grabbed both of Colby's wrists and tore them away from his shirt impatiently, bringing them to either side of Colby's body and pinning them to the couch. Don licked over the mark he had left on Colby's neck, and Colby shuddered as the sting was briefly soothed by the action.
Don grinned wickedly as he felt the man beneath him shift, and their erections ground together. He stood swiftly, Colby's hands still trapped in his grasp, and yanked the other agent up with him.
"Bed," he gasped out. His head swam with alcohol and lust as he stumbled toward his bedroom, Colby in tow.
They crashed through the door together, grappling at each other's bodies. Don's hand found their way down to Colby's ass, and he grabbed it, bringing them flush together with a another gasp.
Colby felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he fell backwards onto the bed. Don clambered onto the bed after him, straddling Colby's hips. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Colby's again, sucking the other agent's bottom lip into his mouth. Colby let out a noise between a groan and a yelp as Don bit down on the tender flesh hard enough to draw blood. Don drew away, licking his lips, savoring the coppery tang he found there.
Instinctively, Colby knew what Don needed. He wrestled with himself internally as he fought against his own issues. With a shudder that wasn't all arousal, Colby brought his hands up and crossed his wrists above his head against the mattress. He tilted his head to the side, baring his neck in a clear invitation.
Don growled in the back of his throat as something primal came over him. He grabbed the other agent's tie and practically ripped it off. He surged forward and clumsily knotted it around Colby's wrists, and then to the headboard. Later, he would wonder how Colby had known that he needed to feel in control again; he hadn't since his abduction.
Colby tugged on the bindings experimentally, and found that he could move just a bit. Don was probably too drunk to tie the knots properly, and the fabric had a little give to it. Soon enough, however, he was cursing them under his breath as Don pushed Colby's shirt up and began to tongue his nipples. Colby's hips rose off of the bed as Don bit down on one, and he moaned loudly as his dick throbbed in his pants, pressing up against the zipper painfully.
Keeping his left hand on Colby's stomach, Don slid his right down between the other agent's legs. He toyed with the downy hair that peeked out from beneath Colby's waistband as he cupped him through the fabric. Colby threw back his head and hissed, pushing up into the touch.
"Don! Please! he begged.
Breathing harshly through his nose, Don fumbled with Colby's belt. He yanked it out of the loops in one smooth motion before attacking the button and sliding down the zipper. Colby lifted his hips to help Don remove his pants, and closed his eyes in relief as some of the painful pressure was relieved.
Don's pupils were dilated as he took in the sight of Colby's cock tenting his briefs. A small patch of precum had already soaked through the cloth, drawing Don's gaze. He licked his lips and bent down, pressing them to the spot gently. Colby's eyes shot open at the sensation, only to be squeezed shut again as his brain tried to process the erotic scene in front of him, sending another wave of arousal down his spine. He felt Don's mouth disappear and took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again.
Don was looking at him, waiting for his eyes to reopen. As their gazes locked, he slowly and deliberately hooked his fingers under the elastic and brought them down, freeing Colby's dick. Colby watched, his eyes never leaving Don's as Don lowered his mouth to his cock. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he slid his tongue from base to tip before sucking on the head gently. Colby's lids fluttered shut as his eyes rolled into the back of his head with pleasure.
Struggling to regulate his breathing around Colby's cock, Don began to bob up and down the length. He choked a little when it grazed the back of his throat, and he pulled back with a messy pop. Colby opened his eyes again, focusing on Don's lips. They were covered with a light sheen of saliva, and Colby moaned in the back of his throat at the sight. His hips thrust forward slightly, trying to communicate his need. Don slowly licked his palm and stroked the shaft, groaning his own appreciation at the hot flesh beneath his palm.
"I can't- I'm gonna-" Colby ground out breathlessly, his control waning. He'd been wanting this for so long, and didn't think he could last much longer as Don continued to stroke.
Don's eyes were lidded as he smiled and continued to move. As the agent beneath him began to buck erratically, he leaned down and wrapped his tongue around the head again. The sensation shot through Colby's nerves, and he came with a hoarse shout. Don swallowed what he could, but Colby could see it spilling down the other man's chin.
"Shit. Oh God, Don." Colby gasped, his brain trying to process what had just happened. Before he could say anything further he felt himself being flipped around. His bindings twisted easily, but they pulled a little, making Colby scoot up onto his knees to alleviate the pressure. Don gave an appreciative noise as he ran his hands down Colby's back, stopping briefly to cup his ass. Colby panted as he felt his spent dick twitch below him. He felt Don's fingers spread apart his cheeks, and trembled violently when something wet and warm began to probe tentatively at his entrance.
Don hummed softly as he pressed closer to Colby, his tongue delving deeper each time it flicked forward. The slight vibrations of the noise traveled through Colby's skin, and he felt himself slowly becoming hard again.
"P-please, Don..." Colby pleaded incoherently, not sure exactly what he was asking for but knowing that he needed more.
Pulling away, Don stripped the rest of his clothing away before glancing around the room, searching. After a few seconds, he gave up and spit into his hand. The room hadn't wanted to come into focus and he was too drunk to get up and look for what he needed. Clumsily, he probed at the puckered hole with his index finger before sinking it in roughly. Don's knuckles grazed Colby's skin as his finger started to move deep inside of the other man.
Colby gritted his teeth at the burn, but pushed back onto the finger anyway. The pain reminded him what was going on, didn't give him any illusions that this was anything other than what it was. Sex with another man. With Don... His thoughts cut off abruptly as Don slid another finger into him, the burn increasing. Colby breathed in harshly, realizing he had been holding his breath, and tried to relax. Immediately, the burn lessened, and he shifted, trying to get Don to move.
Don stared at the sight of his fingers disappearing between Colby's ass cheeks, fascinated. He scissored them slightly, loving the hitch in Colby's breath as he did. When he grazed a particular spot, the yelp that issued from the agent below him caused Don's dick to throb, so he did it again.
Colby writhed, completely breathless as Don teased his prostate over and over. The sensations threatened to overwhelm him, so he growled in the back of his throat, "C'mon. Fuck me. Oh God, just do it." He felt his body quiver with anticipation, tinged with a tiny bit of fear.
Needing no further instructions, Don withdrew his fingers and spit into his hand again. He hissed as he liberally coated his cock with his own spit. Just that barest of touches made his control falter, so he quickly finished prepping himself and moved into position behind Colby.
The blunt pressure of Don's cock against his entrance came almost without warning, and he stilled for a moment. Don's hand rested on the small of his back, tracing circles on the skin in a soothing manner.
"Jus' relax..." Don spoke for the first time since they had started. Colby immediately tried to comply, forcing the tension out of his muscles as Don pushed inside of him slowly. Don got halfway inside and stilled, jolted by Colby's breathy pleas. "Hold on, just... wait a second." Colby took a few more gulps of air before nodding. Don pushed in one final time and was fully sheathed, knocking the air out of both agents.
Colby bit his lip as he tried not to cry out. Too much, it's too much! His body felt like it being split in two. Every nerve ending was on fire, and Colby panted heavily as he tried to relax around Don's shaft.
"So fucking tight." Don panted as he slowly withdrew and pushed in again. Colby grunted as the pain intensified for a second. The second thrust was a little easier, and the third even more so. Colby felt himself adjusting to the pain and he found himself tentatively pushing back onto Don's cock.
Don began to build up to a steady rhythm, and soon Colby was meeting every thrust, causing Don to go deeper, harder. Colby could feel Don's balls slap against his ass with every thrust. His wrists ached as they pulled against the cloth every time Don drew away and Colby tried to follow him back. His hands curled around Colby's hips, Don pressed his fingers into the soft skin, gripping hard enough to bruise. For a moment, Colby felt that grip loosen, and then he was on fire, Don's fingernails digging into his lower back, nearly breaking the skin as they raked down to his ass. Colby's balls clenched and he knew he was right on the edge, practically sobbing with need. Reading the message loud and clear, Don drove harder into him, and at the last second, Colby felt Don's teeth sink into his shoulder. Colby arched his back and screamed Don's name, come spilling across the sheets below him.
Don shuddered as Colby clenched around him and continued to pump his cock in and out of the other man's ass. It took another two thrusts, and he was coming too, Colby's name falling from his lips like a prayer.
Exhausted and spent, the two collapsed onto the bed. Colby went still as Don pressed him into the mattress. His hands were still bound, but he was hesitant to break the silence that had permeated the room. Finally, he shifted his hips slightly, and felt Don's head rise up to look at him.
"Oh shit! Fuck, I'm sorry." Don clambered closer, apologizing as he tried to tear the knots away. The stress of Colby pulling on the bonds had caused the knots to tighten, and Don cursed as he struggled with them. Finally, he moved off the bed to Colby's jeans and grabbed the pocketknife that he knew the agent kept with him. Colby stayed still as Don cut the fabric away, and rubbed his wrists gingerly when they were finally released.
The roughness of it all didn't come as a shock to Colby. For months, he had watched as Don lashed out at work, snapping at his agents and roughing up their suspects a bit more than necessary. No, it hadn't surprised him at all when Don decided to be forceful with him. What really shook him up was how much he had liked it.
Finished with getting Colby's hands free, Don collapsed back on to the bed with a tired sigh. His eyes fell shut almost immediately. Within minutes, light snores reached Colby's ears. He stared for a moment at Don's sleeping form. With every breath, Don's chest rose and fell slowly. Colby reached out a hand to touch the hair just behind Don's ear and caught himself at the last moment.
What are you doing, Granger? You better get the hell out of here, because come morning, you are gonna have one extremely freaked out federal agent to deal with. His mind continued to shout at him even as he climbed into the back of the cab that would take him back to where his car was parked at the bar.
***
When Don woke in the morning, he immediately regretted opening his eyes. The light stabbed through his head like a thousand tiny needles. He ran a hand over his face and tried to sit up, groaning. A nasty wave of vertigo washed over him and he lurched forward, rushing to the bathroom with a burst of energy. He doubled over in front of the toilet and retched, emptying what little still remained in his stomach from the previous day.
As he lay on the cold bathroom floor, staring at the garish olive green tile below his cheek, flashes of what had happened the night before came back to him. His stomach lurched as each scene replayed itself with sickening clarity, the details somewhat fuzzy but the main idea glaringly obvious.
I fucked Colby. Ohgodohgodohgod, what have I done?!
When Don finally pulled himself off of the floor and stumbled into the kitchen, he was haphazardly pouring coffee grinds into the filter when he saw it. The paper had been torn off of the yellow legal pad in the living room. The kitchen table was stacked high with files, a few dishes, and various items that had been thrown there for later. The note sat on top of his keys, which he vaguely remembered giving to Colby the night before. Don glared at the paper as his coffee started to brew. He glared at it as he poured himself a cup and took a small sip, wincing as it scalded his tongue. He glared at it as he finished half of the cup, his hip resting against the counter and the rest of his body still.
Finally, as the coffee chased his headache away to a dull throb, he sighed and snatched up the note, turning it over to read Colby's scrawled handwriting.
Don-
I'm sorry.
You'll have my resignation on your desk when you get in.
Don crumpled the paper in his fist and cursed loudly. There wasn't any way he was going to let Colby throw everything away over this. It was Don's own fault anyway, he reasoned. Don sighed and stalked off to the bedroom, preparing to get dressed for the office and thinking about where he would be putting in a transfer for.
***
The papers were slapped onto Colby's desk forcefully.
"Request denied."
Colby looked up at Don, not hiding the confused expression on his face.
"Why?"
Don sighed and looked away. "Come into my office, and we'll talk about it."
Colby hesitated for just a moment before nodding and following the other agent through the maze of workstations and through the doors. He closed the door behind him and watched silently as Don moved to close the blinds, blocking the prying eyes from seeing inside.
"Why?" Colby asked again, a little impatiently.
"Because you shouldn't have to leave," Don replied quietly. "This is my mess, and I'm sure as hell not going to let you throw your career away because of something I did. I'll put in for a transfer as soon as I can. Megan can handle things here. She's a good agent. You all are."
Colby was shaking his head before Don had even finished, "No, no, no, this is my fault. I should have left your apartment when I had the chance. You were drunk, I wasn't. I was being selfish and I--"
"What are you talking about?" Don wasn't looking at him, and his voice was low and tentative. "I attacked you, Colby. I pushed you around and hurt you and tied you dow--"
"I wanted it!" Colby practically shouted.
Both agent's eyes went wide as they glanced at the door to the office, afraid someone had heard. Don continued to stare at the other man, incredulous. He hadn't considered this. That Colby had wanted to be there, that he hadn't just been pitying the poor, victimized senior agent, that he hadn't been coerced. He swallowed a few times, his mouth suddenly dry.
Trying to quell the rising panic, Colby turned away, keeping his eyes on the floor. He flinched with his entire body when he felt Don touch his arm. The pressure of the touch went away immediately, and Colby took a couple of breaths to calm himself before looking up at Don again.
"So you can see why I need to leave."
Don shook his head, making Colby look at him incredulously. "I'm not gonna let you do that, Colby. 'Cause the fact of it is," he paused and took a steadying breath, "I wanted it too."
Colby sunk into the chair behind him in a daze. They both wanted the same thing. It didn't seem possible. For months, he had tried to convince himself that he was sick in the head, that he was going to mess up everything. To have everything change in an instant was almost too much for him to handle. He looked up blankly as Don began speaking again.
"I dunno what came over me, honestly. I-I just know that I wanted you. That I still want you. And I wanted to feel again, and I felt like you were the only one I could trust. " His voice cracked a bit, "I just..."
In a moment of perfect clarity, everything clicked into place in Colby's mind. It was probably a bad idea. If anyone ever found out, they would be ruined. He could picture the looks of revulsion on their friends faces easily. But he knew that he was right. He knew.
"You need to feel in control." He stepped closer to Don, keeping his movements slow. "And you need someone to let you." He stopped in front of the other man and grabbed Don's hands, placing each one on each of Colby's wrists. Don squeezed automatically, watching as Colby nearly melted into the touch.
"Are-are you saying that you would do that?" Don whispered, very much aware of how close they both were to each other.
Colby just nodded before tilting his head, exposing his neck. He felt reckless and free, yet completely safe.
"No one can ever know."
Meeting Don's eyes, Colby nodded. "I know."
"And we'll have to have rules."
Colby nodded again. "Yup."
Don leaned closer, Colby's wrists still gripped in his hands. He breathed over Colby's pulse point, marveling at the shiver passed through the other man's body. "Then... we're gonna do this?"
"Yeah..." Colby breathed, his eyes falling shut.
Don smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges, and stepped away abruptly.
"Dismissed, Agent Granger."
Author: starlettmalfoy
Pairing: Don/Colby
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Vague references to torture, angst, hurt/comfort, rimming, very light bondage, D/s, smut.
Spoilers: Seasons 1-4
Word Count: 10,093
Summary: Don is missing, and Colby wants him back.
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Author's Note: This was written for the numb3rs_newyear challenge, and I'm crossposting it here and on my writing journal. Thanks to my lovely betas, sororcula and devon99. Without them, this would have been absolutely impossible. Enjoy!
Fixing a Hole
Saturday, 9:30 p.m.
He could see the twisted, shredded remains of his clothing lying in the corner. The gag in his mouth was heavy and wet, and his jaw ached as he bit down around it for the millionth time that hour. Breathing harshly through his nose, he felt his sandpaper tongue scrape across the coarse fabric uncomfortably. His throat burned, and he desperately needed to swallow, something that was near impossible to do around the cloth in his mouth. Blood trickled into his eyes slowly, maddeningly, and blinking did nothing to ease the discomfort or the pain. He could feel it as it began to dry on his eyelashes, starting to encrust them together. Soon he wouldn't be able to blink at all.
"Now, Agent Eppes," he flinched as the voice of his masked captor hissed into his ear, "we're gonna have a little more fun."
In spite of himself, Don whimpered through his gag as the knife flashed before his eyes, the light catching on the shiny steel blade. Against his will, his limbs shook weakly as he tried yet again to free himself, struggling against the bonds that held him fast to the unyielding wooden chair.
"And I think I'm gonna enjoy this."
***
12 hours earlier: Saturday, 9:30 a.m.
Charlie sighed in frustration as Don's voice mail came over the line again. Snapping the phone shut, he began to search the room. Spying what he hoped was a clean shirt hanging out of an open drawer, he grabbed it and shrugged it on, along with his jeans, and made his way downstairs.
Alan sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand. His eyes focused on the crossword in front of him.
"Charlie! Just the man I needed to see. Remind me," he tried to sound casual, "what do you call 'a letter used to represent a number'?"
The younger Eppes grinned at his father. "A variable, of course."
Alan nodded, as if he'd known this all along. "Of course, of course, how silly of me."
Charlie heard the sound of the pen scratching at the newspaper and his smile faded as he hastily poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"Have you talked to Don lately?" He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but Alan glanced up, concerned anyway.
"No, why?"
"We were supposed to watch the game last night, but he never showed and his phone is off."
Alan's forehead creased. "Charlie, don't you think that's something you should have mentioned earlier?" Charlie winced at the disapproval in his father's voice. "Maybe you should call the office, see if he's on a case."
The mathematician nodded, "Of course. I was going to. In fact," he fished his phone back out of his pocket and flipped it open, "I will right now."
It rang just once before the person on the other end answered.
"Reeves."
"Megan, hey."
"Charlie! How are you?" He could hear the smile in her voice. Heading out the door, he waved goodbye to his father and grabbed the keys to his beloved Prius.
"Good, good. Listen, uh, have you talked to Don yet today?"
"No, he's not on duty today. Why, Charlie, what's wrong?"
He shook his head, although she couldn't see him. "Nothing, nothing. He was supposed to watch the game with me last night, but he probably just fell asleep on the couch or something." He hoped. "I'm going to head over there after my class and make sure he's okay. I'm sure it's fine."
Megan laughed lightly, "I'm sure he just exhausted himself. We just closed a major case a few days ago, and we're all pretty tired. But let me know as soon as you hear from him, okay? And try not to wake him if he is asleep."
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Megan." He started the car easily and pulled out of the drive. His fingers tapped nervously on the wheel until he chastised himself for worrying. Pushing it out of his mind, he focused on the upcoming lecture and headed to CalSci.
***
Saturday, 11:00 p.m.
In all of his years at the FBI, he never once thought he'd be in this position. A victim. Even with all of the case files he'd looked at, all of the faces staring up from the photographs in his hands, he'd never realized exactly what those people had gone through. In his mind, they had been victimized, sure, but he hadn't allowed himself to really wonder. How much pain had they been in? How were their last hours spent? Did they think someone was coming for them? If he had let his thoughts stray to that, his mind would have driven itself mad a long time ago. And now, here he was, naked and strapped down to the cold wood of a cheap, blood-stained chair, bound, helpless, and terrified. His muscles strained again with effort as he tried in vain to break free of the duct tape that cut a path into his skin. His wrists were bloody and chafed from the attempts before, and he groaned aloud as a new wave of pain washed over him.
He was alone for the moment. His faceless kidnappers had left the room, leaving him to contemplate his fate. Another classic technique. They intended to keep him guessing. Until he broke, thinking of the horrors they had yet to inflict upon him. He swallowed convulsively as his brain struggled to recall the classes at Quantico that had taught him how to resist interrogation. Pain lanced through his torso, reminding him of his bruised ribs.
Interrogation, he thought bitterly, but not mindless torture. The rest of his mind rebelled, letting the terror creep into his emotions as easily as the breath had left him when they kicked him into submission earlier that day.
That day? Or was it yesterday? He tried to reason that he had only been there less than two days, but in reality, he had no idea the passage of time. Statistics said that once a person was kidnapped, they had a 48 hour window to live. The fact that he was still alive gave him a glimmer of hope. Though, he thought grimly, these were no ordinary kidnappers.
Their movements had been methodical, planned. He was almost sure that they had left no trace of their presence when they nabbed him in the dark outside of his own apartment. They wore gloves, masks, and were heavily armed. His cell phone had been thrown out the window of the van as he struggled in the back, bucking under their hands as they fought to tie him down. He couldn't hear over the sounds of his own struggle, but he was sure it had been shattered on the pavement. The GPS unit that was embedded in the small device would be rendered utterly useless.
And he still didn't know what they wanted from him, other than to see him writhe beneath their hands, screaming behind the gag.
***
Saturday, 6 p.m.
Charlie watched the blood seep from beneath a jagged fingernail and thought only of the pattern that the rivulets made as they ran down his skin. Ignoring the pain, he brought his other hand to his mouth and began to methodically chew the nail on that index finger down to the quick as well. It was better than tearing his hair out, after all.
"Don?" Charlie called again as he groped in the dark for a light switch. The TV was as silent as the rest of the apartment, a fact which shook the mathematician badly. Instinctively, Charlie knew something was wrong. The keys dangled in the door, left there in his panic as he ran from room to room, searching.
"When's the last time you heard from him, Charlie?" Colby's voice was low and soothing, as if trying to calm a skittish horse. He held a wad of tissue out to the mathematician, and Charlie took it automatically, trying to stifle the flow of the blood on his hand. Charlie stared at the splash of red that came away with the tissue, vaguely noting the lack of chalk dust. He couldn't think. Couldn't do the math, didn't know where to start. A thousand scenarios of Don's capture and possible death played behind his eyelids and Charlie couldn't even think about P vs. NP, his normal refuge, let alone anything relevant that would help get Don back. Amita and Larry could be seen across the bullpen in one of the war rooms, furiously scouring the databases for anything that could help. Swallowing his self-loathing for a moment, Charlie finally looked up at Colby, who was still trying to get him to answer.
"Y-yesterday afternoon," he croaked, lips cracked and raw from chewing on them.
Megan frowned and let out a shaky breath. "His cell goes right to voice mail. We're still working on bringing up the GPS, but so far, they can't pin it down."
Charlie saw the quick glance exchanged between the two FBI agents. "What? What does that mean?" His voice shook.
Colby took a deep breath, "Well, we're not sure," he began carefully, "but usually it means that the phone itself has been..."
"Destroyed." It came out as a whisper as Charlie filled in the blank himself.
Colby nodded and slowly walked up to the other man. Strong, calloused hands were set upon his shoulders, and Charlie found himself looking into a pair of determined green eyes.
"I'll get him back, Charlie."
The breath left Charlie all at once as he saw the raw emotion there. Guilt, resolve, and something else. Something that made Charlie's doubts pause for a moment as he considered this new variable in the equation. He nodded slowly, daring to hope.
"I believe you."
***
Colby held up a labeled plastic bag for the rest of the group to see. Inside were various metal and plastic fragments, the shattered remains of a cell phone.
"This was found a couple of blocks from Don's apartment." He spoke professionally, letting his undercover FBI training slide through his body, hiding his emotions. Inside this room were agents from almost every department, and he'd be damned if he showed them any weakness. They had the combined forces of the FBI, DEA, and even NSA working on the case, courtesy of their resident mathematician. Honestly, Colby wasn't sure he wanted to know what strings Charlie had to pull in order for them to get involved.
"Forensics determined that it's only been there since about nine or ten last night. This puts his-" he faltered slightly in spite of himself, "-abduction right around the time that he was supposed to be leaving to meet Charlie, which is what we already figured."
He gave the agents a hard look and pursed his lips. "What we don't know is how, why, or who. Get on it people. One of ours is missing, and we make that a top priority. No one sleeps, eats, or breathes until Don is back with us."
At the clear dismissal, Megan rose and began to single out specific individuals, assigning them different tasks.
"Li. Go through his phone records. Find out if he's had any contact with anyone unusual in the last few months. When you're done with that, pull any files you can find that have any record of Don being threatened by anyone."
"David, go talk to Liz and Robin, and hell, even call Terry. See if they know anything that could help us, anyone who'd want to hurt Don." At the look David gave her, she grimaced. "I know, it'll be a long list, but we have to start somewhere." He nodded and took off, cell phone already in hand.
Megan turned to Colby and took another breath to steady herself. "Colby, I need you to talk to Alan and Charlie." Her voice dropped to a soothing lilt. She had been watching Colby carefully since the news broke, and she suspected he was taking it harder than anyone else besides Charlie. Despite him trying to hide it, she noticed the little things- how pale he had become when Charlie broke the news, how he ran his hand through his hair every few minutes, how he clenched his hands into fists periodically, holding back a bigger emotion.
The other agent nodded, his eyes already shuttered against Megan's gaze. "Right." Without another word, he walked out of the conference room and headed for the elevators.
***
Sunday, 2 a.m.
His nerves were beginning to fray. It had already been 8 hours since Charlie had burst through the doors of the building, shouting about how Don was missing, and they were just as in the dark as they were before.
Colby ran a hand through his cropped hair as he tried not to think about his meeting with Alan just a few hours ago. The eldest Eppes had been distraught, on the verge of tears, and Colby had been at a loss. How could he comfort someone else when his own emotions were threatening to overwhelm him? He couldn't give Alan any hope, because he was starting to lose his own. They had scoured Don's phone records and found nothing unusual. The suspects most likely to have carried something like this out who had threatened Don in some way or another were either listed as behind bars or dead. Now they were left grasping at straws, going on wild goose chases based on partial descriptions of vehicles in the area. A sharp spike of pain pierced his heart and he swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat.
Colby had always looked up to the senior agent, even when he was lying to him all those years. It had ripped Colby apart inside as he had sat in that cold jail cell, thinking about how Don had thought him a traitor. It had taken him a long time after that to come to terms with why Don's opinion had mattered so much. Laying his head on his desk, he remembered the moment it had hit him, the moment that he couldn't deny his attraction anymore.
It had been a standard case. Another bank robbery, this time by two high school students with too much angst and time on their hands. The pair had been hitting small town banks across California, making off with only a few thousand dollars with each job. The team had been called in after one of the boys became a bit too trigger-happy and had downed an off-duty police officer.
They had brought the robbers down in a quiet suburban home right outside of LA, tracking them there via an anonymous tip. Colby had been behind Don as they burst in the front door, surging past the confused family members as they searched the house.
"Clear!" Colby yelled as he finished searching the bedrooms upstairs. Don nodded and they made their way to the basement door. Finding it locked, Don's leg came up and kicked the wood hard, splintering it at the latch. Colby watched with a sick fascination as Don's muscles moved under his thigh holsters, letting his eyes travel up to Don's powerful arms that rippled under the tight FBI shirtsleeves that peaked out from the bulletproof vest. Adrenaline already surged through his veins from the situation they were in, and it combined with a sudden, undeniable arousal that had left him panting and slightly hard under his own uniform.
Lost in the memory, Colby let his eyes fall shut. He was still so tired, and was starting to feel the beginnings of a migraine. The hum of the computers in the bullpen was strangely soothing, and his breathing soon became deep and regular.
***
"We've got something!"
Colby's head shot up at the sound of Megan's voice piercing through the gloom of the office. His eyes struggled to adjust to the light that was slowly filtering through the windows. His eyes widened in alarm and he checked his watch. 7:30 a.m.
Shit, I fell asleep! And no one woke me. Probably thought they were doing me a god damned favor. He had been at the office for what seemed like weeks, after all, only stopping to eat once in a while. If... when we get Don back, I'm going to sleep for a week.
Colby rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wake up, longing for a nice cup of coffee and a shower. Trying to focus, he stood as Megan hurried over, sending David to get the others. A sheet of paper was clutched in her hand, and Colby restrained himself from grabbing it to see what was going on.
"We found him?" he asked anxiously. Megan paused as she saw David, Charlie, Amita, and Larry hurry out of the break room, each clutching a cup of coffee in their hands and wearing identical anxious expressions. As soon as they were near, she nodded to them.
"Maybe," she continued. The excitement present in her voice despite the noncommittal answer obviously baffled the others, as they each gave her a look of confusion and expectancy. "One of Don's neighbors remembers seeing a van sitting in the parking lot a few hours before he was taken. She managed to give us a pretty good description once we tracked her down at her job. She worked the night shift, so we hadn't been able to find her until then. I put out an APB on the van a few hours ago and we just got a match from the LAPD downtown. I've sent a few agents to check it out."
Colby tried not to look too disappointed, but Megan picked up on it anyway. "I know, it's not much. But it's something, right? We just don't..." She trailed off.
We just don't have anything else to go on... Colby finished in his head morosely. He sighed and dug the heals of his palms into his eyes. "When will we hear from them?"
"Soon, I think. They're about to move in."
Colby nodded and followed the group to the surveillance room. Once inside, he grabbed a free headset and listened to the radio chatter.
"Sighting confirmed. Van is an older model Dodge Ram, dark green. Running the tags." Colby held his breath. "Stolen. Registered to a Howard Blum, reported missing three days ago."
"A day before Don was taken." David commented, raising his eyebrows. Colby's features darkened and he clenched his hand into a fist, fighting the instinct to lash out at the poor, unsuspecting wall next to him. Charlie had his fingers in his mouth again, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly as he listened to the situation. Amita touched his elbow softly and he gave her a quick smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Megan cleared her throat, "Search the van. Discreetly, people, I don't want them to be tipped off if these are our guys."
"Roger that."
The agents waited a few minutes before the team confirmed that they were inside the van. A preliminary search turned up nothing, and Colby gritted his teeth, looking at David. Showing the same frustration, David nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Megan sighed and braced herself on the table in front of her, eyes downcast.
"Anything else?"
"No, ma'am. We've- wait a minute..." Six pairs of eyes snapped back to the surveillance equipment, wishing they could see what was going on. "We've got traces of blood here. Looks like they tried to clean it up, but they just missed some. Should we proceed?"
"Negative. We can't be sure its his. Bring in a sample." Megan sighed, trying not to get her hopes up. "If it matches Don's, we've got 'em." She set the headset down and braced herself on the desk in front of her, hanging her head. Larry came up beside her and slipped his arm around her waist, disregarding their normal rules when it came to displays of affection in the office.
***
An hour later the tests were complete and Colby was struggling into his TAC gear alongside his partner, cursing as the straps fumbled in his shaking hands.
"You alright, man?" David sounded worn out and concerned.
"Yeah." Colby grunted. "Just worried. Same as everyone else."
David shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "Don't pull that crap on me, Granger. I know you better than most people around here. This is hitting you harder than anyone else. I mean, it's Don, and we all want him back, but with you it's... different."
Colby didn't meet his gaze. "I don't want to talk about it."
David looked at him for a few seconds, before nodding slowly. "Okay then. I'll let it go. For now."
Colby nodded tersely, knowing he wouldn't be off of the hook for long, and finished tugging on his boots.
"Let's go."
***
Sunday, 9:45 a.m.
Colby's heart raced as he peered from behind his sunglasses at the building across the street. They were in the warehouse district, and the brick facade of the one in front of them looked almost identical to the rest that littered the area.
The difference was, this one happened to be where the tip had led them to. The labs had ran the test on the blood found in the stolen van and come back as a positive match for Don. Colby took a deep breath and turned to David, who was sitting in the driver's seat. David's eyes were locked on the entrance to the building, his mouth set in a firm line.
"What are we waiting for? Are we just gonna sit here until it's too late?" He was losing his patience fast.
David blinked once and spoke, never taking his eyes off of the door. "We wait for Megan to make the call. We have S.W.A.T. teams moving in from behind, as well as snipers on the surrounding rooftops." Finally, he chanced a glance away, meeting Colby's eyes.
"If Don's in there, we'll get him."
Colby nodded tersely and tried to keep his hand from twitching toward his gun.
The radio crackled a moment later and Megan's voice filtered through the headset.
"Okay guys. Move in carefully. We don't want to spook them."
Colby swallowed as hundreds of scenarios where they did just that and Don ended up on the floor in a pool of blood swam before his eyes. His hand found the door handle and he dropped from the van into a semi-crouch, heading diagonally toward the door.
David signaled to him and Colby nodded, showing he was ready. David's fingers flashed up in a silent countdown.
1...
2...
3...
With a guttural yell of "FBI! FREEZE!" Colby kicked in the door, gun at the ready.
The first thing he registered was the smell. Blood, piss, and vomit reached his nose and he fought off the urge to drop his weapon and cover his mouth in disgust and horror. The sensation intensified as his eyes caught up with his nostrils.
Both David and the S.W.A.T. team stationed around back had already made quick work of most of the suspects. The gunshots were still ringing in Colby's ears as he peered into the dim light of what appeared to be one large, mostly concrete room. What he found made both his anger spike and his blood run cold.
Don was naked and covered with dozens of bruises, cuts, and burns. Colby restrained himself from running forward as Don's head lolled back onto the chair he was bound to. A bloodied knife was being pressed to his throat, and Colby's stomach flipped as he tried to discern whether or not he was too late. He was answered quickly by man who was holding the other end.
"Don't move! Don't come any closer or he dies!"
Colby swallowed a surge of relief that Don was alive. He could see the knife being pressed harder into Don's skin, a thin ribbon of blood blossoming to the surface. At the man's shout, David had rushed into the room, gun raised. He stopped next to Colby, facing their adversary.
"Not gonna happen. You're not walking out of here if he doesn't." Colby made sure his voice conveyed the very real threat seriously.
David took one hesitant step closer and the perpetrator tensed. David held up a hand, trying to calm him down.
"Look man, you don't wanna do this." David's voice was hard but rational, trying to appeal to something inside of this man. "He dies, and you're facing charges of assault, kidnapping, and the murder of a federal agent." David took another step and Colby clenched his teeth. "And that means the death penalty."
"Yeah, and that's if I don't get to you first," Colby snapped out, his voice low and deadly. David glanced over at his partner nervously. He'd seen agents on the edge before, and Colby was dangling over it dangerously.
David turned back to the perp and tried again, "Drop the knife. No one else has to die here today."
Colby watched as the man struggled with the knowledge that he was finished. The agent saw the inevitable thought that crossed every criminal's mind where they realize they have no other options except death or incarceration. The gunmetal cut into his hand, waiting for the man to make his decision. One would end with a bullet.
The knife clattered to the ground and David swooped in immediately, grabbing the man's arms and fastening the cuffs around them.
Colby raced to Don's side, blood rushing in his ears as his heart sped up. Two fingers automatically jumped to his neck and found a pulse. The skin under his touch was feverish, but the heartbeat was there. A lump formed in Colby's throat as Don's eyelids fluttered and opened. They were glazed and slightly unfocused, but there was an awareness there that made Colby breathe a small sigh of relief. Colby quickly undid the knot behind Don's head, freeing him from the gag. He watched apprehensively as Don swallowed a few times before trying to speak.
"C-Colby?"
His voice was no more than a whisper. Don's vocal cords sounded like they'd been shredded from screaming. Colby drew the knife that he carried in his boot and carefully sliced away the bindings. The agent in the chair slumped forward, and Colby caught him, lowering him to the ground. He smoothed Don's damp hair off of his forehead and cradled his body gently, mindful of the various cuts and bruises that mottled his skin.
"I've got you Don," he murmured. "It's over. I've got you." He repeated it over and over again, trying to hold himself together until the ambulance arrived. The agent watched as the E.M.T.s gently lifted Don onto the stretcher and strapped him to it, finally giving into the urge to reach out for the other man's hand that hung limply over the side.
"Sir, we need you to-" Colby cut him off.
"I'm going with him." His eyes were challenging, daring the young paramedic to tell him otherwise. Wisely, the E.M.T. shut his mouth and nodded, letting Colby climb into the back of the ambulance as well. Colby turned to the rest of the team before the doors swung shut.
"David, make sure Alan and Charlie get to the hospital." David nodded and watched as the doors in front of him closed. The sirens began to wail and he stepped back, cell phone already in his hand to deliver the news.
***
Beep. Beep. Beep. Don flinched at the harsh, low sound that had roused him from a dreamless slumber. He groaned as his mind started registering the pain his body was in now that he was awake. Needing to know what was happening to him this time, he forced his eyes open. It took him a few seconds to take stock of where he was. The linen under his skin was cool and crisp. Bandages were wrapped around his wrists, ankles, and torso. Don looked at the I.V. in his arm for a moment before his attention was captured by the man sleeping by his side.
Colby's head rested near Don's hand on the bed. The rest of his body was awkwardly perched in a rather uncomfortable-looking chair that had been moved as close to the bed as it possibly could be. Colby's shoulders rose and fell slightly as he breathed. The pain medication in Don's veins dulled his senses for the most part, but the sight still left him a little breathless. He blinked back a few tears as he realized that he was safe and that Colby hadn't left his side. Don tried to push the thoughts of what had happened to him out of his mind, but try as he might, the memory of Colby cradling Don in his arms, telling him that they had found him, would not go away.
Don's arm twitched as he summoned all the energy he could into moving it. After a bit of effort, his hand lifted and came down onto Colby's head. The feel of his agent's hair below his fingertips reassured him that this was real, and Don almost started sobbing with relief and gratitude. Before he could take his hand away, Colby stirred and lifted his upper body. Don's hand fell to the other man's shoulder.
"Hey." Don's voice was nothing more than a harsh croak, and he winced a little as his throat burned with the effort it took to speak.
Colby immediately straightened up, all sleepiness gone from his body.
"Don! You're awake!" He didn't care how he sounded, he was so overjoyed.
Don simple nodded, deciding that he probably should only speak when necessary. A sharp pang of thirst shot through him, however, and he rasped out one word, "Water?"
Colby nodded and stood, crossing the room quickly. A pitcher and a glass sat on the table near the door, and he poured some for Don. He brought it to him and helped him sit up, lifting the glass to his lips. After Don had taken a few small sips, Colby set the glass on the stand next to the bed and hit the button on the wall. A moment later, an old, matronly nurse walked into the room. She checked Don's vitals and asked him a few questions before dosing him with more pain meds. As she was turning to leave, Don called out to her, though it took some effort.
"N-nurse?" She turned. "Can I see my family?" She gave him a small smile and nodded once.
"Yes, but only for a few minutes. You still need your rest, Agent Eppes." At this she gave Colby a hard look. He nodded to show he understood and would enforce this rule and not interfere. She left, apparently satisfied.
Colby cleared his throat, "Alan and Charlie were here earlier, but Charlie was almost dead on his feet. Your father drove him home to get a few hours of sleep and something to eat, but they should be back soon."
"Why did you stay?"
Colby's head snapped back to his senior agent, the question coming out of nowhere. He shook his head, trying to come up with a suitable answer without giving himself away.
Say something, Granger! His mind screamed at him. After a few seconds of opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he ground out, "Wanted to." Oh, great move. Now he's either going to suspect something's up or think you're insane. The thought almost made him chuckle bitterly. But maybe you are.
Don gave him a funny look and might have said something in return, but was interrupted as the door swung open. Charlie rushed into the room, flushed. His curls fell into his eyes, which Colby noticed were dangerously close to spilling over with tears.
"Donnie, I'm so s-"
"Hey, c'mon Chuck. It's alright." Don's voice was still raspy, but he was smiling a little, Colby noticed. His eyes wrinkled at the corners, and Colby had to look away, knowing his expression of adoration wouldn't go unnoticed.
"No. I should have known... when you didn't show..." Charlie reached out for Don's hand and clasped it firmly, careful of the I.V. "I should have known," he repeated.
Don shook his head as best as he was able to. "You couldn't have, Charlie. And I'm okay. Really. I'll be okay."
Colby stared at the floor, wondering if Don really would be. He kept his gaze down and thought about it as Megan, Larry, and David came in and out of the room, expressing their relief at his return. He thought about it as Don's head fell back onto the pillow, exhausted.
But he began to believe it when Don looked at him before falling asleep, and offered three little words.
"Colby? Thank you."
Colby's fingers were squeezed for a second before he realized he was holding Don's hand, and had been the entire time.
***
Megan pursed her lips as she gazed around the office. It had been two months since Colby and the team had pulled Don out of that warehouse, and everyone was still walking around in denial. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out how Colby felt about Don as he sat by his hospital bed day in and day out. She, however, was apparently the only one willing to acknowledge it.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Don finished up the paperwork for the case they had just closed. He sighed and buried his hand in his hair, looking tired.
Enough is enough. She thought to herself. It's time to give these boys a push.
"Don?" Her voice carried over the cubicles softly as she approached. His answering smile didn't quite reach his eyes. None of his smiles had, not since before the Sanchez brothers had tortured him in revenge for putting their father behind bars.
"We should all go out for a drink to celebrate." She indicated the closed case file. "I think we could all use it, don't you?"
Don hesitated a moment and then nodded, "Yeah, that sounds good. Should we meet up at Gonzalez'?"
"Sounds good to me. I'll make sure Colby and David are free."
She noticed how he shifted slightly in his chair at the mention of Colby's name and she fought back another smile.
"Right. I'll see you there, then. Don't let me drink too much though. I have another session with Bradford in the morning." He didn't bother to conceal his irritation at this last part, his frustration with his assigned therapist already well known.
Megan touched his shoulder briefly, silently letting him know that she was there for him before turning back to her own desk.
***
Don knew he was good and drunk, even though he had promised himself that tonight would be different. He cradled the glass of- What was this stuff again? -liquor in his hands carefully, trying in vain to pace himself a little.
It didn't help his drinking habits that Colby sat painfully close to him at the bar, clutching his second beer of the night. Don grimaced as his mind strayed to things he'd rather not think about, and to counter it, he took another swig of his drink.
David and Megan had just left, leaving just the two of them. They had made up excuses and practically ran out the door, whispering to each other the entire time. Don's stomach twisted with nervousness at being alone with Colby again, something he hadn't done since the hospital. Colby had stayed by his side for nearly a week as Don healed, leaving only to take care of basic necessities. At first, Don had been too heavily medicated to wonder about it, but as the week wore on, the relief he had felt blossomed into a nervous curiosity. Don managed to push that feeling aside and pretended that he didn't notice the constant touches, the attention. And now, months later, he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he might even be missing it.
Damn it, Eppes, don't think about that! Of course, the only thing left to think about were the nightmares that plagued him each night, leaving him to wake up in a cold sweat as the feeling of knives faded from his skin. His features darkened at the thought, his hands squeezing the glass in front of him tighter.
In one swift motion, the senior agent finished his drink and stood, bracing himself on the bar as he began to sway dangerously.
"Woah, there." Colby's voice shot through the haze of Don's mind, making his heart race. It took him a few seconds to realize that Colby's arm had come around Don's waist to steady him, and now he desperately had to resist the urge to twist into the embrace.
"'M fine." Don mumbled. "Jus' need some air."
Colby, looking more sober than he probably should have, nodded and helped Don to the door, spilling them both into the dimly lit alleyway. Once outside, the fresh air hit Don's lungs abruptly, and he found himself taking gulping, desperate breaths.
"Don? You alright there?" Don shook his head mutely, trying to hold it together. The bridge of his nose tingled as the alcohol tried to toy with his emotions and he fought the urge to tear up.
"C'mon, let's get you into a cab or something." Colby took the lead, arm still wrapped firmly around the other man. He stepped nearer to the street and waved down a taxi. Once inside, he gave the directions to Don's place to the driver, and they rode quietly there. Every couple of minutes, the only sound to break through the silence was a sharp intake of breath from Don as he was jostled by a turn. After paying the driver, Colby helped Don out of the car and through the parking lot, careful not to let him stumble.
"You got your keys?" He kept his voice low. Don nodded and clumsily fished them out of his pocket, handing them over to the other man. Reaching the door, Colby slid them into the lock and opened the door, immediately combing the walls blindly for the light switch.
Don shook his head. "It's burnt out anyway."
He knew his apartment pretty well while sober, so after a couple of missteps, Don managed to find the couch and settle himself onto it. Colby stood in front of him, barely illuminated by the soft light of the street lamps filtering through the window. Don watched as the agent shifted nervously on his feet, hands stuck firmly in his pockets.
"I should probably-"
"No." Don took a breath and kept his gaze focused on the other man. "Stay."
Colby hesitated again. It had sounded almost like an order, and Colby was used to following orders, but the rational part of his mind screamed at him to get out of there.
"I really should-"
Don cut him off again. "Please."
Colby nodded slowly, his resolve weakening. "Alright. I'm going to get you some water, and then I'll stay. Just for a little while."
Don sank back into the cushions in relief. He didn't know where this sudden desire not to be alone came from, but in the haze that wrapped around his brain, he couldn't find the urge to analyze it too closely. He heard the tap running in the kitchen and relaxed further, allowing the tension to slowly bleed from his body.
Colby came back into the room and set the glass down on the coffee table, shuffling aside the mounds of paperwork and empty takeout boxes to make room. After a moment of glancing from the spot on the couch next to Don and the chair on the other side of the table, he chose the couch, and tried to keep his breathing steady as he settled next to the other man.
Don's head rested against the back of the couch, giving him an uninhibited view of the ceiling. He drunkenly counted the divots in the cheap plaster for a minute before giving up with a sigh.
I'm a mess.
He must have said it out loud, because Colby's hand was on his shoulder now, squeezing it comfortingly. Don's head lolled a little to the side as he turned to look at the man beside him. Without much of a thought, Don reached his hand out and wrapped it tightly around Colby's wrist, squeezing hard. Don's breath quickened as he saw the other agent's eyes flutter shut, and the next thing he knew, he was moving in, crashing his lips against Colby's.
Colby responded immediately, moaning as Don's tongue lapped against his mouth. He parted his lips, opening himself to the other man, and groaned again as he felt Don move closer. Don pressed against his body, using his weight to push him down onto his back. Colby felt Don's hands slide around his hips and tug his shirt up. He gasped as Don's calloused fingertips finally came in contact with skin.
Breaking away, Colby panted, taking in Don's flushed appearance. "W-we shouldn't-"
"Shut up."
Colby squeezed his eyes shut and arched as Don's lips descended to his neck, sucking hard. His own fingers scrabbled at Don's button-down, clumsily attacking the buttons that were in the way of reaching his goal. Don grabbed both of Colby's wrists and tore them away from his shirt impatiently, bringing them to either side of Colby's body and pinning them to the couch. Don licked over the mark he had left on Colby's neck, and Colby shuddered as the sting was briefly soothed by the action.
Don grinned wickedly as he felt the man beneath him shift, and their erections ground together. He stood swiftly, Colby's hands still trapped in his grasp, and yanked the other agent up with him.
"Bed," he gasped out. His head swam with alcohol and lust as he stumbled toward his bedroom, Colby in tow.
They crashed through the door together, grappling at each other's bodies. Don's hand found their way down to Colby's ass, and he grabbed it, bringing them flush together with a another gasp.
Colby felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he fell backwards onto the bed. Don clambered onto the bed after him, straddling Colby's hips. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Colby's again, sucking the other agent's bottom lip into his mouth. Colby let out a noise between a groan and a yelp as Don bit down on the tender flesh hard enough to draw blood. Don drew away, licking his lips, savoring the coppery tang he found there.
Instinctively, Colby knew what Don needed. He wrestled with himself internally as he fought against his own issues. With a shudder that wasn't all arousal, Colby brought his hands up and crossed his wrists above his head against the mattress. He tilted his head to the side, baring his neck in a clear invitation.
Don growled in the back of his throat as something primal came over him. He grabbed the other agent's tie and practically ripped it off. He surged forward and clumsily knotted it around Colby's wrists, and then to the headboard. Later, he would wonder how Colby had known that he needed to feel in control again; he hadn't since his abduction.
Colby tugged on the bindings experimentally, and found that he could move just a bit. Don was probably too drunk to tie the knots properly, and the fabric had a little give to it. Soon enough, however, he was cursing them under his breath as Don pushed Colby's shirt up and began to tongue his nipples. Colby's hips rose off of the bed as Don bit down on one, and he moaned loudly as his dick throbbed in his pants, pressing up against the zipper painfully.
Keeping his left hand on Colby's stomach, Don slid his right down between the other agent's legs. He toyed with the downy hair that peeked out from beneath Colby's waistband as he cupped him through the fabric. Colby threw back his head and hissed, pushing up into the touch.
"Don! Please! he begged.
Breathing harshly through his nose, Don fumbled with Colby's belt. He yanked it out of the loops in one smooth motion before attacking the button and sliding down the zipper. Colby lifted his hips to help Don remove his pants, and closed his eyes in relief as some of the painful pressure was relieved.
Don's pupils were dilated as he took in the sight of Colby's cock tenting his briefs. A small patch of precum had already soaked through the cloth, drawing Don's gaze. He licked his lips and bent down, pressing them to the spot gently. Colby's eyes shot open at the sensation, only to be squeezed shut again as his brain tried to process the erotic scene in front of him, sending another wave of arousal down his spine. He felt Don's mouth disappear and took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again.
Don was looking at him, waiting for his eyes to reopen. As their gazes locked, he slowly and deliberately hooked his fingers under the elastic and brought them down, freeing Colby's dick. Colby watched, his eyes never leaving Don's as Don lowered his mouth to his cock. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he slid his tongue from base to tip before sucking on the head gently. Colby's lids fluttered shut as his eyes rolled into the back of his head with pleasure.
Struggling to regulate his breathing around Colby's cock, Don began to bob up and down the length. He choked a little when it grazed the back of his throat, and he pulled back with a messy pop. Colby opened his eyes again, focusing on Don's lips. They were covered with a light sheen of saliva, and Colby moaned in the back of his throat at the sight. His hips thrust forward slightly, trying to communicate his need. Don slowly licked his palm and stroked the shaft, groaning his own appreciation at the hot flesh beneath his palm.
"I can't- I'm gonna-" Colby ground out breathlessly, his control waning. He'd been wanting this for so long, and didn't think he could last much longer as Don continued to stroke.
Don's eyes were lidded as he smiled and continued to move. As the agent beneath him began to buck erratically, he leaned down and wrapped his tongue around the head again. The sensation shot through Colby's nerves, and he came with a hoarse shout. Don swallowed what he could, but Colby could see it spilling down the other man's chin.
"Shit. Oh God, Don." Colby gasped, his brain trying to process what had just happened. Before he could say anything further he felt himself being flipped around. His bindings twisted easily, but they pulled a little, making Colby scoot up onto his knees to alleviate the pressure. Don gave an appreciative noise as he ran his hands down Colby's back, stopping briefly to cup his ass. Colby panted as he felt his spent dick twitch below him. He felt Don's fingers spread apart his cheeks, and trembled violently when something wet and warm began to probe tentatively at his entrance.
Don hummed softly as he pressed closer to Colby, his tongue delving deeper each time it flicked forward. The slight vibrations of the noise traveled through Colby's skin, and he felt himself slowly becoming hard again.
"P-please, Don..." Colby pleaded incoherently, not sure exactly what he was asking for but knowing that he needed more.
Pulling away, Don stripped the rest of his clothing away before glancing around the room, searching. After a few seconds, he gave up and spit into his hand. The room hadn't wanted to come into focus and he was too drunk to get up and look for what he needed. Clumsily, he probed at the puckered hole with his index finger before sinking it in roughly. Don's knuckles grazed Colby's skin as his finger started to move deep inside of the other man.
Colby gritted his teeth at the burn, but pushed back onto the finger anyway. The pain reminded him what was going on, didn't give him any illusions that this was anything other than what it was. Sex with another man. With Don... His thoughts cut off abruptly as Don slid another finger into him, the burn increasing. Colby breathed in harshly, realizing he had been holding his breath, and tried to relax. Immediately, the burn lessened, and he shifted, trying to get Don to move.
Don stared at the sight of his fingers disappearing between Colby's ass cheeks, fascinated. He scissored them slightly, loving the hitch in Colby's breath as he did. When he grazed a particular spot, the yelp that issued from the agent below him caused Don's dick to throb, so he did it again.
Colby writhed, completely breathless as Don teased his prostate over and over. The sensations threatened to overwhelm him, so he growled in the back of his throat, "C'mon. Fuck me. Oh God, just do it." He felt his body quiver with anticipation, tinged with a tiny bit of fear.
Needing no further instructions, Don withdrew his fingers and spit into his hand again. He hissed as he liberally coated his cock with his own spit. Just that barest of touches made his control falter, so he quickly finished prepping himself and moved into position behind Colby.
The blunt pressure of Don's cock against his entrance came almost without warning, and he stilled for a moment. Don's hand rested on the small of his back, tracing circles on the skin in a soothing manner.
"Jus' relax..." Don spoke for the first time since they had started. Colby immediately tried to comply, forcing the tension out of his muscles as Don pushed inside of him slowly. Don got halfway inside and stilled, jolted by Colby's breathy pleas. "Hold on, just... wait a second." Colby took a few more gulps of air before nodding. Don pushed in one final time and was fully sheathed, knocking the air out of both agents.
Colby bit his lip as he tried not to cry out. Too much, it's too much! His body felt like it being split in two. Every nerve ending was on fire, and Colby panted heavily as he tried to relax around Don's shaft.
"So fucking tight." Don panted as he slowly withdrew and pushed in again. Colby grunted as the pain intensified for a second. The second thrust was a little easier, and the third even more so. Colby felt himself adjusting to the pain and he found himself tentatively pushing back onto Don's cock.
Don began to build up to a steady rhythm, and soon Colby was meeting every thrust, causing Don to go deeper, harder. Colby could feel Don's balls slap against his ass with every thrust. His wrists ached as they pulled against the cloth every time Don drew away and Colby tried to follow him back. His hands curled around Colby's hips, Don pressed his fingers into the soft skin, gripping hard enough to bruise. For a moment, Colby felt that grip loosen, and then he was on fire, Don's fingernails digging into his lower back, nearly breaking the skin as they raked down to his ass. Colby's balls clenched and he knew he was right on the edge, practically sobbing with need. Reading the message loud and clear, Don drove harder into him, and at the last second, Colby felt Don's teeth sink into his shoulder. Colby arched his back and screamed Don's name, come spilling across the sheets below him.
Don shuddered as Colby clenched around him and continued to pump his cock in and out of the other man's ass. It took another two thrusts, and he was coming too, Colby's name falling from his lips like a prayer.
Exhausted and spent, the two collapsed onto the bed. Colby went still as Don pressed him into the mattress. His hands were still bound, but he was hesitant to break the silence that had permeated the room. Finally, he shifted his hips slightly, and felt Don's head rise up to look at him.
"Oh shit! Fuck, I'm sorry." Don clambered closer, apologizing as he tried to tear the knots away. The stress of Colby pulling on the bonds had caused the knots to tighten, and Don cursed as he struggled with them. Finally, he moved off the bed to Colby's jeans and grabbed the pocketknife that he knew the agent kept with him. Colby stayed still as Don cut the fabric away, and rubbed his wrists gingerly when they were finally released.
The roughness of it all didn't come as a shock to Colby. For months, he had watched as Don lashed out at work, snapping at his agents and roughing up their suspects a bit more than necessary. No, it hadn't surprised him at all when Don decided to be forceful with him. What really shook him up was how much he had liked it.
Finished with getting Colby's hands free, Don collapsed back on to the bed with a tired sigh. His eyes fell shut almost immediately. Within minutes, light snores reached Colby's ears. He stared for a moment at Don's sleeping form. With every breath, Don's chest rose and fell slowly. Colby reached out a hand to touch the hair just behind Don's ear and caught himself at the last moment.
What are you doing, Granger? You better get the hell out of here, because come morning, you are gonna have one extremely freaked out federal agent to deal with. His mind continued to shout at him even as he climbed into the back of the cab that would take him back to where his car was parked at the bar.
***
When Don woke in the morning, he immediately regretted opening his eyes. The light stabbed through his head like a thousand tiny needles. He ran a hand over his face and tried to sit up, groaning. A nasty wave of vertigo washed over him and he lurched forward, rushing to the bathroom with a burst of energy. He doubled over in front of the toilet and retched, emptying what little still remained in his stomach from the previous day.
As he lay on the cold bathroom floor, staring at the garish olive green tile below his cheek, flashes of what had happened the night before came back to him. His stomach lurched as each scene replayed itself with sickening clarity, the details somewhat fuzzy but the main idea glaringly obvious.
I fucked Colby. Ohgodohgodohgod, what have I done?!
When Don finally pulled himself off of the floor and stumbled into the kitchen, he was haphazardly pouring coffee grinds into the filter when he saw it. The paper had been torn off of the yellow legal pad in the living room. The kitchen table was stacked high with files, a few dishes, and various items that had been thrown there for later. The note sat on top of his keys, which he vaguely remembered giving to Colby the night before. Don glared at the paper as his coffee started to brew. He glared at it as he poured himself a cup and took a small sip, wincing as it scalded his tongue. He glared at it as he finished half of the cup, his hip resting against the counter and the rest of his body still.
Finally, as the coffee chased his headache away to a dull throb, he sighed and snatched up the note, turning it over to read Colby's scrawled handwriting.
Don-
I'm sorry.
You'll have my resignation on your desk when you get in.
Don crumpled the paper in his fist and cursed loudly. There wasn't any way he was going to let Colby throw everything away over this. It was Don's own fault anyway, he reasoned. Don sighed and stalked off to the bedroom, preparing to get dressed for the office and thinking about where he would be putting in a transfer for.
***
The papers were slapped onto Colby's desk forcefully.
"Request denied."
Colby looked up at Don, not hiding the confused expression on his face.
"Why?"
Don sighed and looked away. "Come into my office, and we'll talk about it."
Colby hesitated for just a moment before nodding and following the other agent through the maze of workstations and through the doors. He closed the door behind him and watched silently as Don moved to close the blinds, blocking the prying eyes from seeing inside.
"Why?" Colby asked again, a little impatiently.
"Because you shouldn't have to leave," Don replied quietly. "This is my mess, and I'm sure as hell not going to let you throw your career away because of something I did. I'll put in for a transfer as soon as I can. Megan can handle things here. She's a good agent. You all are."
Colby was shaking his head before Don had even finished, "No, no, no, this is my fault. I should have left your apartment when I had the chance. You were drunk, I wasn't. I was being selfish and I--"
"What are you talking about?" Don wasn't looking at him, and his voice was low and tentative. "I attacked you, Colby. I pushed you around and hurt you and tied you dow--"
"I wanted it!" Colby practically shouted.
Both agent's eyes went wide as they glanced at the door to the office, afraid someone had heard. Don continued to stare at the other man, incredulous. He hadn't considered this. That Colby had wanted to be there, that he hadn't just been pitying the poor, victimized senior agent, that he hadn't been coerced. He swallowed a few times, his mouth suddenly dry.
Trying to quell the rising panic, Colby turned away, keeping his eyes on the floor. He flinched with his entire body when he felt Don touch his arm. The pressure of the touch went away immediately, and Colby took a couple of breaths to calm himself before looking up at Don again.
"So you can see why I need to leave."
Don shook his head, making Colby look at him incredulously. "I'm not gonna let you do that, Colby. 'Cause the fact of it is," he paused and took a steadying breath, "I wanted it too."
Colby sunk into the chair behind him in a daze. They both wanted the same thing. It didn't seem possible. For months, he had tried to convince himself that he was sick in the head, that he was going to mess up everything. To have everything change in an instant was almost too much for him to handle. He looked up blankly as Don began speaking again.
"I dunno what came over me, honestly. I-I just know that I wanted you. That I still want you. And I wanted to feel again, and I felt like you were the only one I could trust. " His voice cracked a bit, "I just..."
In a moment of perfect clarity, everything clicked into place in Colby's mind. It was probably a bad idea. If anyone ever found out, they would be ruined. He could picture the looks of revulsion on their friends faces easily. But he knew that he was right. He knew.
"You need to feel in control." He stepped closer to Don, keeping his movements slow. "And you need someone to let you." He stopped in front of the other man and grabbed Don's hands, placing each one on each of Colby's wrists. Don squeezed automatically, watching as Colby nearly melted into the touch.
"Are-are you saying that you would do that?" Don whispered, very much aware of how close they both were to each other.
Colby just nodded before tilting his head, exposing his neck. He felt reckless and free, yet completely safe.
"No one can ever know."
Meeting Don's eyes, Colby nodded. "I know."
"And we'll have to have rules."
Colby nodded again. "Yup."
Don leaned closer, Colby's wrists still gripped in his hands. He breathed over Colby's pulse point, marveling at the shiver passed through the other man's body. "Then... we're gonna do this?"
"Yeah..." Colby breathed, his eyes falling shut.
Don smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges, and stepped away abruptly.
"Dismissed, Agent Granger."