(no subject)
Title: You're Just A Boy Who's Afraid Of The Dark (4/?)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Beckett/Gabe
Summary: "None of it made sense and William was trying to understand because part of him...part of him had seen news reports and episode after episode of ‘Law & Order’ and ‘CSI’ and was whispering kidnapped like it was a curse."
Chapter Four
I just want to keep you safe.
I just want to know you’re okay.
I just want to make sure no one ever hurts you again.
I just want to love you, just let me love you, please, please.
None of that explained why his wrists were tied, why he couldn’t feel the familiar weight of his Sidekick in his pocket. None of that explained why he was in a basement, a basement because he could see listless little slivers of light through the narrow boarded-up windows somewhere near the ceiling.
None of it made sense and William was trying to understand because part of him...part of him had seen news reports and episode after episode of ‘Law & Order’ and ‘CSI’ and was whispering kidnapped like it was a curse.
But this was Gabe. Sweet, soft-spoken Gabe with his awkward hands and his crooked smiles and people like that just didn’t kidnap people, did they? No, no, there had to be an explanation. It was a joke, a prank, a something, something that meant Gabe was sane, please God, let him be sane.
“Gabe?” William could barely hear his own voice, crackling like radio static in the chill basement air, scared and small and he wanted to be home, wanted to be in Pete’s house, wanted to be in their tour bus, anywhere but here.
He stared blankly up at the ceiling (cleaner than his, but then the basement was spotless) and tried to sort through what was going on. Gabe was gone, which, for the first time since he’d met him, William was grateful for. Because when Gabe was there with his easy laugh and his warm eyes, it was easy to forget that maybe this was a little bit deranged. “Gabe,” he mumbled again, but he wasn’t calling for him, not really. More like just making sure he wasn’t there, wasn’t watching William because...because...William just didn’t like the idea.
No, that’s right. The...phone? Yes. The phone had rung. He was upstairs. William shook his head. He couldn’t afford to lose focus here. He had to, had to...wait until Gabe came back. Right. And then talk to him, explain that he was okay on his own, that he was safe and cared for and if Gabe loved him, cool, but bondage was only fun when William had consented, so if he could please let him go, they could go out for coffee and discuss this and maybe a few years down the road they’d look back at this and laugh.
He stopped.
Look back and laugh? What was wrong with him? “Yeah, remember that one time? The time you kidnapped me? That was hilarious.”
He had to get out of here.
“Will?”
It’s William, you ass, William, you don’t get to call me that unless you’re Mike and you’d better let me go.
“Yeah, Gabe, I’m still down here.” He tugged experimentally at his bonds for what must have been the fiftieth time in the hours he’d been awake, and which didn’t help any more than the last forty-nine had.
Gabe laughed as he flicked the light switch on. “Of course you are,” he said, but he didn’t say it like he expected William to reply. More like...like he was reassuring himself. “How are you?”
Tied up, fucker, how do you think?
“A little sore. Do you think maybe you could untie me?” He smiled and tried to look as not-threatening as possible, because Gabe was eyeing him suspiciously, sizing him up, and apparently came to the conclusion that he could take William if he really had to-which was true, probably.
William made a mental note to beg workout tips from Frankie if-when-he got out of here.
“Sure,” he said smoothly, smiling, and leaned over William to work the knots loose. William contemplated kneeing him in the stomach, but decided against it-all that would achieve was a still-tied-up William and a pissed-off Gabe.
The strips of...whatever it was that Gabe had tied him with fell away and William rubbed his wrists gratefully, trying to work the blood back into his cold, prickling fingers. He kept his eyes downcast, trained on his hands, and Gabe evidently got the hint, because he eased himself off the bed and stood there awkwardly, like he was waiting for William to make the first move.
So, give ‘em what they want.
“You kidnapped me,” William said bluntly, massaging the palm of his left hand.
“No!” Gabe sounded panicked there, just for a moment, but he covered it up with a wholly unconvincing laugh. “No, no, I didn’t kidnap you. I...I explained it, babe. I want to make sure you’re happy.” He tilted William’s chin up and he was still smiling-which William personally found fucking terrifying. “I want you here with me where I know no one’ll hurt you.”
“Okay,” William said, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Gabe. “If I promise to stay away from the boys...I mean, you know I wouldn’t have cheated on you, right?” He frowned and Jesus fuck, why was he actually offended at that?
“I know,” Gabe murmured, tracing the line of William’s jaw absently. “But I want to keep you away from everyone who’s ever hurt you.”
“From...?”
“Patrick,” Gabe said seriously and oh God, oh God. “Pete. Brendon. Ryan. Chris. Bob. Tyson. Hunter. Zac. Siska.” His smile widened and William shuddered. “Everyone that treated you like trash, William. I’ll keep you here with me where I know you’re loved.”
“Gabe...those are my friends,” William said in the most reasonable tone of voice he could manage, considering.
“I know.” And something like fury clouded his face, just for a moment, like a little boy about to throw a fit. “Do you know how many times Mike and Siska and Pete called you, Will? Like...like they even deserve to speak to you, after what they did.”
“What they did?” William shook his head slowly, still trying to process exactly what Gabe was suggesting. “Gabe, they’re my friends. They didn’t do anything to me I didn’t do to them. It was just sex, for God’s sake.”
Was it his imagination, or did Gabe actually cringe at that?
“I mean seriously, dude, this is messed up. Everyone gets knocked around a few times and it’s not like...I slept with them willingly, Gabe, and you’ve got to accept that or-“
He wasn’t quite sure what was supposed to come after that, but it really didn’t matter. The words were stopped before they ever cleared his throat by the back of Gabe’s hand-those kind, kind hands, what had William done wrong?-snapping sharply into William’s cheekbone and he just sat there, stunned.
“Stop,” Gabe said quietly. The good humour was gone, the smile was gone, and those hazelgold eyes didn’t look so much warm as they did feverish-William instinctively shrank back. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“What, the truth?” Because he was really fucking stupid, yes, this proved it, and he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut, could he?
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Gabe said softly, slowly, and in William’s experience, that very nearly always meant the opposite. “But I’d like you to be quiet now.” That hand moved towards him again and William flinched automatically, but all Gabe wanted to do was touch the reddening skin just under William’s eye.
Oh, and he looked so sad, so sorry. He really hadn’t wanted to do that, had he?
Fucking hell, William felt guilty. He felt guilty. For Gabe hitting him.
“I didn’t want to do that,” Gabe mumbled like he could see the script unraveling in William’s head, like he knew. “Please believe me, William, I didn’t...I’m trying to help.”
“By locking me up?” It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and Gabe didn’t look so sad anymore. His eyes narrowed, narrowed into slits and William had never seen him look like that. It was fucking terrifying.
“I asked you to be quiet,” was all he said, though, and he shook his head. Like he was disappointed.
Like William had misbehaved.
And though he left after that, William was fairly sure that the-the what? days? hours? he couldn’t tell time, there was just an awful lot of lonely-that followed were, in fact a punishment. Because even though there was a small bathroom (windowless, mirrorless and showerless, but at least the sink and toilet worked) there was no food and there was no light except those few rays that wandered in and by that count, he was down there three days without anything to eat or anyone to talk to and who knew boredom was so horrible?
There was nothing to do, there was no way out, and he was so goddamn lonely he would have even been happy to see Gabe. He paced around the basement, poked into every corner, memorized his little cell, but God, that was no replacement for human contact. He’d never really realized before how nuts it made him when he couldn’t talk to anyone.
It was like...like he was the only one alive, like the outside world had stopped existing and William’s entire universe had narrowed to this little thirty-three by forty-six (counting steps over and over and over) area. And all he could think about was how hungry he was, how cold he was, how he would have welcomed anything like human contact.
Which, when the basement door opened and Gabe’s lanky figure slouched against the doorframe, he did.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Beckett/Gabe
Summary: "None of it made sense and William was trying to understand because part of him...part of him had seen news reports and episode after episode of ‘Law & Order’ and ‘CSI’ and was whispering kidnapped like it was a curse."
Chapter Four
I just want to keep you safe.
I just want to know you’re okay.
I just want to make sure no one ever hurts you again.
I just want to love you, just let me love you, please, please.
None of that explained why his wrists were tied, why he couldn’t feel the familiar weight of his Sidekick in his pocket. None of that explained why he was in a basement, a basement because he could see listless little slivers of light through the narrow boarded-up windows somewhere near the ceiling.
None of it made sense and William was trying to understand because part of him...part of him had seen news reports and episode after episode of ‘Law & Order’ and ‘CSI’ and was whispering kidnapped like it was a curse.
But this was Gabe. Sweet, soft-spoken Gabe with his awkward hands and his crooked smiles and people like that just didn’t kidnap people, did they? No, no, there had to be an explanation. It was a joke, a prank, a something, something that meant Gabe was sane, please God, let him be sane.
“Gabe?” William could barely hear his own voice, crackling like radio static in the chill basement air, scared and small and he wanted to be home, wanted to be in Pete’s house, wanted to be in their tour bus, anywhere but here.
He stared blankly up at the ceiling (cleaner than his, but then the basement was spotless) and tried to sort through what was going on. Gabe was gone, which, for the first time since he’d met him, William was grateful for. Because when Gabe was there with his easy laugh and his warm eyes, it was easy to forget that maybe this was a little bit deranged. “Gabe,” he mumbled again, but he wasn’t calling for him, not really. More like just making sure he wasn’t there, wasn’t watching William because...because...William just didn’t like the idea.
No, that’s right. The...phone? Yes. The phone had rung. He was upstairs. William shook his head. He couldn’t afford to lose focus here. He had to, had to...wait until Gabe came back. Right. And then talk to him, explain that he was okay on his own, that he was safe and cared for and if Gabe loved him, cool, but bondage was only fun when William had consented, so if he could please let him go, they could go out for coffee and discuss this and maybe a few years down the road they’d look back at this and laugh.
He stopped.
Look back and laugh? What was wrong with him? “Yeah, remember that one time? The time you kidnapped me? That was hilarious.”
He had to get out of here.
“Will?”
It’s William, you ass, William, you don’t get to call me that unless you’re Mike and you’d better let me go.
“Yeah, Gabe, I’m still down here.” He tugged experimentally at his bonds for what must have been the fiftieth time in the hours he’d been awake, and which didn’t help any more than the last forty-nine had.
Gabe laughed as he flicked the light switch on. “Of course you are,” he said, but he didn’t say it like he expected William to reply. More like...like he was reassuring himself. “How are you?”
Tied up, fucker, how do you think?
“A little sore. Do you think maybe you could untie me?” He smiled and tried to look as not-threatening as possible, because Gabe was eyeing him suspiciously, sizing him up, and apparently came to the conclusion that he could take William if he really had to-which was true, probably.
William made a mental note to beg workout tips from Frankie if-when-he got out of here.
“Sure,” he said smoothly, smiling, and leaned over William to work the knots loose. William contemplated kneeing him in the stomach, but decided against it-all that would achieve was a still-tied-up William and a pissed-off Gabe.
The strips of...whatever it was that Gabe had tied him with fell away and William rubbed his wrists gratefully, trying to work the blood back into his cold, prickling fingers. He kept his eyes downcast, trained on his hands, and Gabe evidently got the hint, because he eased himself off the bed and stood there awkwardly, like he was waiting for William to make the first move.
So, give ‘em what they want.
“You kidnapped me,” William said bluntly, massaging the palm of his left hand.
“No!” Gabe sounded panicked there, just for a moment, but he covered it up with a wholly unconvincing laugh. “No, no, I didn’t kidnap you. I...I explained it, babe. I want to make sure you’re happy.” He tilted William’s chin up and he was still smiling-which William personally found fucking terrifying. “I want you here with me where I know no one’ll hurt you.”
“Okay,” William said, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Gabe. “If I promise to stay away from the boys...I mean, you know I wouldn’t have cheated on you, right?” He frowned and Jesus fuck, why was he actually offended at that?
“I know,” Gabe murmured, tracing the line of William’s jaw absently. “But I want to keep you away from everyone who’s ever hurt you.”
“From...?”
“Patrick,” Gabe said seriously and oh God, oh God. “Pete. Brendon. Ryan. Chris. Bob. Tyson. Hunter. Zac. Siska.” His smile widened and William shuddered. “Everyone that treated you like trash, William. I’ll keep you here with me where I know you’re loved.”
“Gabe...those are my friends,” William said in the most reasonable tone of voice he could manage, considering.
“I know.” And something like fury clouded his face, just for a moment, like a little boy about to throw a fit. “Do you know how many times Mike and Siska and Pete called you, Will? Like...like they even deserve to speak to you, after what they did.”
“What they did?” William shook his head slowly, still trying to process exactly what Gabe was suggesting. “Gabe, they’re my friends. They didn’t do anything to me I didn’t do to them. It was just sex, for God’s sake.”
Was it his imagination, or did Gabe actually cringe at that?
“I mean seriously, dude, this is messed up. Everyone gets knocked around a few times and it’s not like...I slept with them willingly, Gabe, and you’ve got to accept that or-“
He wasn’t quite sure what was supposed to come after that, but it really didn’t matter. The words were stopped before they ever cleared his throat by the back of Gabe’s hand-those kind, kind hands, what had William done wrong?-snapping sharply into William’s cheekbone and he just sat there, stunned.
“Stop,” Gabe said quietly. The good humour was gone, the smile was gone, and those hazelgold eyes didn’t look so much warm as they did feverish-William instinctively shrank back. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“What, the truth?” Because he was really fucking stupid, yes, this proved it, and he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut, could he?
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Gabe said softly, slowly, and in William’s experience, that very nearly always meant the opposite. “But I’d like you to be quiet now.” That hand moved towards him again and William flinched automatically, but all Gabe wanted to do was touch the reddening skin just under William’s eye.
Oh, and he looked so sad, so sorry. He really hadn’t wanted to do that, had he?
Fucking hell, William felt guilty. He felt guilty. For Gabe hitting him.
“I didn’t want to do that,” Gabe mumbled like he could see the script unraveling in William’s head, like he knew. “Please believe me, William, I didn’t...I’m trying to help.”
“By locking me up?” It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and Gabe didn’t look so sad anymore. His eyes narrowed, narrowed into slits and William had never seen him look like that. It was fucking terrifying.
“I asked you to be quiet,” was all he said, though, and he shook his head. Like he was disappointed.
Like William had misbehaved.
And though he left after that, William was fairly sure that the-the what? days? hours? he couldn’t tell time, there was just an awful lot of lonely-that followed were, in fact a punishment. Because even though there was a small bathroom (windowless, mirrorless and showerless, but at least the sink and toilet worked) there was no food and there was no light except those few rays that wandered in and by that count, he was down there three days without anything to eat or anyone to talk to and who knew boredom was so horrible?
There was nothing to do, there was no way out, and he was so goddamn lonely he would have even been happy to see Gabe. He paced around the basement, poked into every corner, memorized his little cell, but God, that was no replacement for human contact. He’d never really realized before how nuts it made him when he couldn’t talk to anyone.
It was like...like he was the only one alive, like the outside world had stopped existing and William’s entire universe had narrowed to this little thirty-three by forty-six (counting steps over and over and over) area. And all he could think about was how hungry he was, how cold he was, how he would have welcomed anything like human contact.
Which, when the basement door opened and Gabe’s lanky figure slouched against the doorframe, he did.