[TIER 10] IATL: Chapter 20 (Patreon)

Warning for violence and drug use.

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Chase keeps his head down as he helps Gabriel limp towards the exits. He sneaks a few glances every now and then, his heart jumping into his throat every time he thinks he glimpses a familiar face. He's having mixed feelings about this. One part of him hopes that someone's going to stop him while the other heaves a sigh of relief everytime a nurse or doctor looks away. Every step closer to the entrance is like a stab to the gut. With each step, his mind is screaming. Coward. Traitor. You're just like Lucas.

It's so easy to give up the charade. All Chase has to do is attract attention to Gabriel and himself and the jig is up. Gabriel would be whisked away to safety, and there's nothing he can do about it. But as much as he would like to grab the passing nurse, demanding her to see them, to see what he's doing, he doesn't. The thoughts of Sam keep him going, keep his feet moving. He's a coward. Simple as that. He doesn't have the strength to do the right thing.

In what seems like no time at all, they have reached the entrance and are slipping out the rotating doors. Last chance, Chase. Do the right thing. It's now or never. But he stays silent as he helps Gabriel outside. The sun beats down on their neck. Chase tightens his grip as Gabriel moves to step forward. He stops moving, closing his eyes. He can't do this. He can't let Gabriel do this. Trembling on the spot, he feels Gabriel stills beside him. He doesn't dare to look up.

"Chase? It's okay. We're doing this together." Gabriel closes a hand around his grip on his arms. He feels warm and solid. A comforting touch. For some reasons, that just makes him feel more awful. Tears leak out onto his cheek. A smooth thumb rubs over the tears, cupping his face. Chase opens his eyes. Piercing blue the color of the sky stared back at him. "It's going to be okay."

Chase wishes he could believe him. He wishes for that to be true. But he knows better. He had seen what Gordon and his men had done to Gabriel, and he's not naive enough to think they might get away unscathed. If he's going to be doomed, why drag Gabriel into this? For Sam, a voice at the back of his head reminds him. His shoulders slumps and the hopelessness is back. He'll do whatever it takes to save Sam but why does it have to be like this? Why does he have to choose? Chase doesn't want to choose.

"It's not fair," he croaks after being silent for a while. "Why does it have to be you or Sam? Why can't it just be me? If it were just me, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Chase, please. I've told you before, and I'm telling you again. Why don't you understand that I don't want to see you hurt too? I care about you," Gabriel implores, rubbing a thumb against Chase's freckled cheek. "I used to do things people asked of me because I wanted their approval. Their love. But I see now that it's not like that. When people love you, they don't ask things of you. Instead, you do things for them because you want to. And Chase, trust me when I say, this is something I want to do. Not for you. Not for Sam. But for me. Because I love you and I care what happens to you. Do you understand?"

Chase stares up into those earnest blue eyes, so serious and intense, staring deep into his very soul. This 17 years old who had been hurt in so many ways but rises above it all to be this kind and sincere person. There's an underlying ferocity simmering beneath his fragile surface and for a moment, it's like Chase's staring into the face on an angel. Not the cherubs, baby in diapers kind or those gentle saintly ones in the church but the wrathful warrior of Gods depicted in books. The one holding swords and spears with their wings flare out behind them. There's a righteous fury blazing in Gabriel's eyes, but there's also something gentle there. A conviction. An unconditional love.

Chase wraps a hand at the back of Gabriel's neck and pulls him into a kiss. Their teeth clack and they kiss with the desperation of married men going to war, saying farewell to their family. But for them at least, instead of parting, they're going to war together. And maybe, just maybe they'll be able to survive this if they stick together, have each other's back and take strength from one another. It may just be enough to keep their hopes up and the candle lit. The metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.

"I understand," he whispers into Gabriel's mouth, feeling the other teen's lips curl into a smile.

The van they had used to drive to the hospital is as Sam described. White with black tinted windows. It's a pretty nondescript van. Normal. Invisible. The trip to the car park was short. The van looms in the distance, looking more and more foreboding as they approach. Chase tenses, his heart thumping like a jackrabbit. Despite Gabriel's reassurance before, Chase can't help but try one more time. "Gabe-"

Gabriel must have sensed his apprehension because he stops and interrupts him before Chase can finish his sentence. "Chase, if Gordon wants me, there's nothing that will stop him from getting his hands on me. At least I don't think so. The reason he wants you to do this is to mess with your head. He's a sick man, Chase. Don't let him get to you. At least now we're going into this with our eyes wide open."

When he doesn't reply, Gabriel continues in a soft voice. "I'm not going to pretend that I'm not scared. Because I am. It's taking all of my will power just to keep walking." Chase looks up at Gabriel. His eyes are zeroed in on the white van in the distance, and Chase can see the fear in them, bright as day. "I don't know what he has got planned for me or what he's going to do to me. But I'm trying my best not to think too hard about it. Because if I do, I'm afraid I'll lose my nerve," Gabriel's voice breaks and Chase tightens his grip on Gabriel.

"Gabe..."

"Don't try to talk me out of this, Chase. I'm already struggling as it is. So let's just please do this?" Gabriel takes a step forward, but Chase moves in front of him, blocking his path. He places his hands on Gabriel's shoulders right where they meet his neck and stares at him right in the eyes.

"Gabe, you don't have to do this. It's not too late. We can turn around. You can call the cops. Tell them what happened. I'm sure they can help. I mean, it's their job, right?" His voice shakes as he says that. They can do that, but he knows Gordon left two men with Sam. And if they don't hear back from Gordon as planned, they're going to sell Sam to a pedophile ring. Gordon had said that Sam will be lost within hours and that the system will eat him up and chew him alive, he'll wish he's dead. And Chase can forget about ever seeing him again. The blood drains from his face as cold sweat drenches his body.

"You're not coming with me, are you?"

Chase averts his eyes, his jaws clenching. If that's what Gabriel chooses to do, Chase will let him. But he's going back. He's not going to leave Sam. Gordon can sell the both of them for all he cares. Chase doesn't give a shit anymore. Gabriel shrugs out of his grip. Chase's heart sinks as he stares up at his face. Gabriel isn't looking at him. Chase takes a step back. Good. This is what he wanted, isn't it? He finally made Gabriel see sense. So why does his heart feel like it's about to die?

Chase half expects Gabriel to turn around and storms off but he doesn't. Instead, he brushes past Chase, one hand holding his side as he limps towards the white van. Chase watches him go in shock. There's an undeterred look of determination on his face. Chase is struck again by how much Gabriel looks like an avenging angel right now. With broken wings but still so damn powerful. Tears prick his eyes and before he knows it, Chase rushes forward and wraps an arm around Gabriel again, helping him walk. They don't speak the rest of the way.

When they're a few feet away from the van, the door slides open, and two men jump out. Chase hasn't seen them before but something about them feels familiar. The only people he'd seen so far is Gordon and for a brief second the two men that came in to guard Sam while Gordon dragged him to the van. One of them has slick black hair, tied into a ponytail. He looks like a rockstar wannabe. The other is more thug-like with a well-toned body and tattoo sleeves covering up both arms. Tattoo guy heads straight for Gabriel.

"Miss me sweetheart?" he coos, his horse like face breaking into an ugly sneer. He twists Gabriel's arm behind his back and leans down close beside his ear. With a jolt, Chase realizes where he'd seen these men before. They were the same men in the video. Chase's vision streaks red. He moves to grab the man's shoulder, ready to turn him around and break his jaw when someone grabs him from behind. Oblivious, Tattoo guy continues to manhandle Gabriel, sniffing his hair before biting down hard on the bandage covering one side of his neck. Gabriel whimpers.

"Get your fucking hands off him!" Chase shouts, struggling against Ponytail's grip. He stomps on the man's foot, hears him yowls and in his weakened state, Chase turns around and lands a vicious right hook across his jaw. Ponytail collapses to the ground. Chase pounces on Tattoo guy, holding him in a chokehold. He lets go of Gabriel, trying to fend Chase off, fingernails biting into his arms but it's futile. Chase knows what he's doing. In less than a second, he's out cold. Chase drops him to the ground when he hears Ponytail approach him from behind. He dodges out of the way and turns around just enough to land a swift kick right where his knee joins his lower leg. The man yowls in agony and crumbles to the asphalt. Chase's about to stomp on his leg again to finish the job when a hand lands on his chest, stopping him.

"No, Chase! Stop!" Chase looks up. Gabriel is pale and shaking, his terrified eyes staring at something behind him. Chase glances back. Gordon is standing a foot from him, gun out and cocked. He pokes the nuzzle into Chase's side.

"Hold your horses there, Rambo," Gordon breathes in his ear. Chase raises his hands, panting slightly. "Get the fuck up, Leo. And get in the van. Grab Spike with you too, will you?" Gordon hisses.

Ponytail, or Leo moans as he stands, favoring his right leg. He pulls Spike up by the arm and ungraciously slings it around his neck, supporting the full weight of the man. He hobbles past Chase, pausing to growls, "This is not over," before shoving Spike into the passenger seat. The muzzle of the gun presses painfully at his side as Gordon nudges him towards the van. Once Chase is inside, Gabriel stumbles in, hissing as he falls onto his side. Chase helps him into a sitting position as Gordon climbs in, gun still trained on them.

The door slides shut, and the lock clicks. There's no seats inside, just an empty space covered with a patch of carpeting. Gordon shuffles all the way to the back of the van, into the shadows. Unwilling to give Gordon any more ammunition against them, he reluctantly let Gabriel go. They sit side by side, cross-legged, their knees brushing.

The inside of the van is dark. Whatever sunlight that manages to stream through the tinted window is weak. Plus, there aren't many windows at the back to begin with. Just enough to see the dark shape that is Gordon at the back if they squint. The van roars to life and starts moving, lurching them forward a little. Gabriel's breath hitches. Chase glances to his side. Gabriel has his head bowed, eyes closed and face screwed up in pain, his body locked. Chase brushes a finger over his knee. Gabriel looks up, face pale but nods slightly.

As the van moves, so does the sunbeam from the window, dancing around in the interior of the van. Chase keeps his eyes trained at Gordon, or his shadow. The man hasn't spoken a word since the van started moving. They turn a corner, and the beam that was shining on them slides all the way to the back. Gordon smiles, sitting nonchalantly with his arms on his knees, the gun hanging from his hand in between his spread legs. The smiles grow wider and wider until a soft laugh escapes the man. A sound that seems to come out the nose rather than the mouth. He looks amused, white teeth gleaming.

"You look good, angel," Gordon drawls. "Or should I say, Gabriel?" He glances over at Chase, giving him a please look. "Good work, Chase. Thank you. Though that little stunt you pulled back there? Not smart. You won't like them when they're mad. Actually, scratch that. They're just animals, the bunch of them. Just ask your friend over there. Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you already watched his porn debut."

"You can fuck the hell off," Chase snarls.

"You've got balls, I'll give you that. But when we break you, and we will- we'll wipe that cocky attitude of yours for good," Gordon growls. Gabriel tensed up beside him, hands forming into fists. Sensing his anger, Chase is quick to change track.

"Where's Sam? You promised that if I do this, you'll let Sam go. See to it that you keep your end of the deal."

Gordon's sneer turns malicious. "I didn't say anything about letting little Sammie go. I said I wouldn't hurt him if you brought me Gabriel." It's Chase's turn to get angry. The day's frustration and agitation about to reach its bursting point. Chase takes a deep breath. He knew this was going to happen, but it doesn't make it sting any less. "And since you did what you're told, I'll call ahead and tell them to hold off the cocaine."

Gordon flips out his mobile phone and starts dialing. Chase sits frozen to the spot. What? What the fuck is Gordon talking about? Cocaine? "Hey Harper, yeah. Change of mind. Yes, no. We save the cocaine for later." Chase snaps out of his shock.

"You're feeding my brother cocaine?!" he yells, launching at Gordon. Two hands come up to pull him back by his t-shirt. "He's 6, you fucking pyscho!!" Unadulterated fury and genuine fear flow through Chase's veins. What kind of a sick fuck gives a six-year-old cocaine? He tears himself loose from Gabriel's grip, flying at Gordon. Rage blinds him. He wants to hurt the man sitting across from him as much as he can. He tackles Gordon onto his back and the both of them topple over with Chase on top. He scrambles up, whipping a hand back and-

"Chase!" He hears Gabriel screams as he feels the blunt head of a gun poking his stomach. He falters, fist still raised mid-air, ready to strike. "Chase, please. Think about Sam," Gabriel begs from somewhere behind him, his voice shaky. Chase's whole body shakes with the effort not to slam his fist down into the smug face. He's breathing hard, his nose flaring. Gordon presses the gun harder into his ribs, his eyes challenging. Letting out a harsh breath, Chase lets his hand fall and pushes off Gordon. He falls back onto his butt. Gabriel's arms are around him in an instance, pulling him back.

"You're a fucking psycho, you know that?" Chase spits, voice low and hard.

"Relax, Sammie is untouched. I promised, didn't I?" He picks up his mobile phone that had scattered across the van and stuff it into his pocket. "I thought you chicken out on me. You took a long time. I got bored. Thought I get Sammie all soft and pliant for me when I get back." Chase growls. "But that's not necessary now, not when I have blue eyes over there." He flicks his gun at Gabriel. "Little Sammie is too young for my taste anyway," he adds as an afterthought. There's a hungry look in his eyes as he roams Gabriel's body. "I missed you, angel. You cried and begged so pretty for me. It makes me hard just thinking about it." He slides closer, pulling down Gabriel's collar. "You look so pretty with my marks all over you," he breathes, eyes hooded with lust.

Gabriel stiffens beside him. He doesn't look at Gordon. His eyes stare straight ahead, expression blank. There's a light tremble shaking his frame. Chase hooks his little finger around Gabriel's pinky, squeezing lightly. Gabriel blinks, and he looks down at their intertwined fingers. Unfortunately, Gordon notices and calls him out on it.

"Awww, that's so sweet, Chase. But save the act for someplace else because let's be honest here. If you really cared about Gabriel, he wouldn't be here. Right. Back. With. Me." He whispers each word in Gabriel's ear before licking his cheek. Leaning back, he continues, "So tell me, Chase. What kind of person does that make you? Hmm?" Gordon taunts. "Admit it. You're a monster. Just like us. Maybe even more."

Every word Gordon throws at him is like a punch in the gut. Every word rings true. He served Gabriel up to them on a silver platter. Gordon is right. He is worse. Gabriel is a stranger to them, but Chase had said he loves him. And what did he do? Chase gave him up at the first sign of trouble. He's a good for nothing- Gabriel places a hand on his thigh. Chase stares down at it. He gives Chase a soft squeeze. His face feels hot. Chase closes his eyes, stopping the tears from coming.

Even now, Gabriel is the stronger one, giving him comfort and strength. Gabriel wouldn't want him to blame himself. Chase has to be strong. He has to keep reminding himself that Gabriel chose this. He's doing this because he loves Chase. And he must never let himself forget that. Chase remains quiet as he tries not to let Gordon's words get to him. When he deems it's safe to open his eyes, Chase plasters a smile on his face.

"Says the drug addict who likes raping young boys," he shoots back.

Gordon laughs. "Touche. There's just something about pretty boys that gets me all worked up, you know. Girls work too, but they're just not as much fun as boys. They break too easily; quick to cry and beg. They're weak. It doesn't give me anything to make a girl cry. I don't gain any satisfaction from it. But when a boy does it, when they finally break," Gordon closes his eyes and smiles, like he's remembering something sweet and precious. "The humiliation on their face as they shed their first tear-" Gordon opened his eyes. "It's beautiful."

"It makes me hard, knowing I'm the one to break them. Watch as the fight goes out of their body. The feeling is all-encompassing, powerful. Their cries of agony like music to my ears and when they beg..." Gordon opens his eyes, shining with undisguised pleasure. "They all eventually beg. Begged for me to stop. Begged for me to show mercy. Or," He looks at Gabriel. "Begged to die."

Chase stops breathing. He doesn't dare to look at Gabriel, afraid to see the truth of Gordon's words on his face. But he needs to know. He flicks his eyes over to the teen beside him. Gabriel is not looking at anything but the carpet in front of him, his head bowed in defeat. His heart feels like someone with sharp claws grip it tight, the nails digging into the flesh. It hurts, knowing that Gabriel wanted to die. That he couldn't think of anything to fight for, to stay alive. It hurts. "Gabe?"

Gabriel turns tear filled eyes on him. "I was in so much pain, Chase. And it feels like it will never end. I just wanted the pain to stop," he whispers.

Chase pulls him close and kisses his forehead, guilt making it hard for him to breathe. Gabriel chose death when faced with the brutality these men unleashed on him. And Chase brought him back. Gabriel leans heavily on him, arms coming up around his waist, hugging him back tight. Chase doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve to have Gabriel's trust or his touches.

"See what I mean? They break so beautifully. Oh, Gabriel. I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Gabriel just clings onto Chase tighter, silent. It's too late now. Guilt doesn't do shit. There's only one way to make this right. Or at least, tilt the scale a little. Chase glowers at Gordon over Gabriel's head. "I would like to see you try breaking me," he challenges.

Gabriel freezes against him before pulling away, looking up at Chase with anger in his eyes. In a low intimidating tone, so that only he could hear, Gabriel growls. "Chase, I know what you're doing. Don't." His sapphire blue eyes blaze with a ferocity Chase has never seen before. Warning. Threatening. He blinks, taken aback. Gabriel looks pissed, and Chase actually feels a little scared. It's like his eyes are burning a hole into his skull. He gulps.

"Oh, you will break, Chase. They all do."

Chase snaps his eyes back at Gordon. He can feel Gabriel slumps then, defeated. "We'll see about that," he taunts, surprised to find his voice steady even as his heart beats erratically against his ribcage. He prays to God that Lucas will find them soon, and fast. To be honest, he can't believe he's putting his hopes on the man who had done nothing but made his life a living nightmare. How fucked up is his life?

The van slows to a stop. Gordon smiles, pointing the gun at Chase as he motions for him to open the door. "Ballsy boy go first. Angel goes second." Chase pulls open the sliding door and steps out, reaching behind him to help Gabriel out. Gabriel's movement is stiff and he looks to be in pain. The trip from the hospital in the van wasn't a smooth ride. There were bumps along the way and they must have jarred Gabriel's wounds a little. He seems exhausted in the bright daylight. He has his eyes closed and is breathing evenly.

Gordon steps out next, gun still aiming at them. The door to the driver side opens and Leo jumps out. He doesn't look happy at all, glaring dagger at Chase with his dark brown eyes. A bruise is starting to form around his left jaw. He massages it, narrowing his eyes threateningly at Chase. "You're in for a world of pain, boy. That's a promise."

"Yeah yeah. Is Spike awake yet?"

"Motherfucker is going to get it!" A voice yells from the front of the van.

Gordon barks out a laugh. "It's your own damn fault, Spike! Wait 'til the rest hear about this," he mocks. A string of curses follows Gordon's comment. Snorting, Gordon motions for Leo to move. The man cracks his knuckles and gives Chase another stink eye before walking off. Chase glares at him, reveling in the savage pleasure he feels at seeing the slight limp in his gait.

Spike rounds the back of the van, glaring at Gordon as he starts laughing again. "Shut up," he grumbles. "And you," he snaps, pointing at Chase. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that," he snarls, stepping into his space, leaning in so that their faces are almost touching.

"I don't kiss unless you buy me dinner first," Chase smirks.

"Motherfucker-" Spike raises his hand.

"Enough! We have more than enough time to play with this bitch. Calm the fuck down, Spike. Now move the fuck on!" Gordon bellows. Spike grits his teeth before stalking off after Leo. "I like you, Chase. You got balls. But if you keep taunting my men like this, I doubt you will have them for long."

Chase scoffs and just only avoiding rolling his eyes. Whatever. Let them come. Let them all come. At least then, their focus will be on him. Gabriel and Sam would be safe. He just needs to buy some more time until Lucas comes. At least, Chase hopes he will. That's his plan anyway.

Gabriel doesn't look too happy as he considers the situation. Gordon motions for them to move, taking point behind them while Spike continues to storm ahead. Chase takes the opportunity to take a good look around. They look like they are in an abandoned building. It looks pretty isolated. He couldn't see any other building around for miles.

The inside of the building is old and dusty. There are cobwebs hanging from the doors and ceilings. He watches as Gabriel takes in everything, his eyes observant and contemplative. He'd already seen all this before when they had taken him to the van earlier. They walk for about ten minutes through a maze-like hallway before they reach where Leo is standing by an opened door. Chase suspects Spike took them on a scenic route so they won't be able to tell where they're held. Chase feels a flash of disappointment.

As they walk through the door, Leo whispers in Gabriel's ear. "Love the new limp, angel." Gabriel flinches but other than that remains stoic as he enters the room. When Chase passes by Leo, the man grabs him and shoves him inside, causing him to lose his balance and falls to his knees a few meters in front of him. He pushes himself up and whips around to give the man a bitch face that would make even Sam proud when he hears his name.

"Chase!" Then, "Is that you?"

When he turns around, sure enough he sees Sam illuminated underneath the harsh light of the spot ahead. "Sam!" He rushes towards Sam until he's kneeling in front of him. He runs a hand through Sam's damp hair, pushing it from his forehead so he could look at his brother properly. "Did they do anything to you? Are you hurt?" He scans his eyes over Sam's face, then over his body, examining for any tell-tale signs of abuse. Sam is shaking his head, his cheek red and flushed. "I got scared." Chase could tell he's holding back tears.

"Why were you scared?"

Sam shakes his small head, looking down. "Hey, I'm here, Sammie. It's alright. I'm here. I came back like I promised. I didn't leave you," he soothes perceiving what Sam doesn't say. He leans forwards and gives his little brother a kiss on the forehead. Gabriel limps forward.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam peeks his head out from Chase's embrace, surprised before his expression changes. "I'm sorry, Gabe," he says, all sad puppy dog eyes. "Chase had to. Because of me. Please don't blame him." Chase straightens up, running his fingers through Sam's hair. He doesn't dare to look back at Gabriel right now; he's afraid he would do something stupid like break down and cry for forgiveness or some shit. Now that he's with Sam again, the steely determination he'd built up, to force himself to do what Gordon had asked crumbles to pieces. Seeing Sam again, unharmed and alive, the full magnitude of what he'd done to attain it crashes down on him.

"Sam, I don't blame Chase. I don't blame you either," he says. "I care about you and if there's anything I can do to help, I will. Chase didn't force me to do anything. I'm here of my own free will."

"Sounds like someone can't get enough of us," says a voice behind them. "Coming back for seconds, angel? I'll be sure we don't disappoint."

Chase senses more than sees Gabriel stiffens up behind him. He gets up to his feet and meets Gabriel's eyes. They share a look, a silent communication. This is it. Promise not to do anything stupid.

Chase would have laughed if it wasn't also so heartbreaking. It's bittersweet. To think that at this moment of truth, they're both worried about the other person rather than themselves. He cracks a smile then turns around to face Gordon.

There's five men in the room. Gordon, Spike and Leo and two other men Chase doesn't know the name of yet. They both have dark shaggy blonde hair and the same chiseled jaws and sharp nose. Their eyes are squinty and small. One of them has a large tattoo of a number sequence on his forearm. Chase thinks they're brothers. Everyone is staring at them, stony face and anger from Spike and Leo and casual indifference from the Hardy Boys. The silence is broken by Gordon.

"Bon appétit," he smirks. He nods at Spike who gives Chase a wicked smile as he cracks his knuckles, heading towards him. Chase sees him coming and he's ready for it. He spreads legs shoulder width apart and steadies himself, holding his weight, eyes never leaving the man.

"You want a piece of this sweet ass? Come and get it, you son of a bitch!" he taunts.

Spike roars and launches. Chase is not small by any standards but he's still a teenager with a growing body and Spike is a full grown man with muscles and body fat so chances are, he will lose. But lucky for Chase, his dad had taught him a few moves and he could stand his own. He dodges as Spike's fist flies by his face by mere inches and punches him in the gut, taking advantage of his shock to register another kick to his kneecaps.

After that, it's open season. Someone grabs his arms from behind, holding them in an arm-lock. Chase throws his head backward, attempting to head butt whoever it is, feeling triumph as his head hits something hard and someone yells. His own head hurts like hell but yeah, it still feels good. The man's grip loosen but not enough for Chase to pull free. Next thing he knows, Leo's fist is right in his face. Oh, shit he thinks before Leo's fist connects with the side of his face. His head whips to the side, teeth clacking and blood flying. Chase spits, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Is that all you got?" he bites out. "Feels like an itch."

Leo roars, landing punch after punch onto his face and torso. Chase couldn't remember much after that. Just pain all over his body and head. He thinks he hears someone crying and screaming in the distance but it all blurs into a cacophony of sounds. The next thing he registers is that the punches and kicks have stopped. His head feels like they're about to split open and he can hardly see through his right eyes. Blood drips into his eyes from a cut just above his brow. Chase wonders how he'd gotten that. His face feels like a pulp; he can barely feel it anymore. Panting, he laughs, a rumble that makes his insides hurt. Leo might have broken a few ribs and his kidneys, yeah. Nope. Not good.

He can hear voices but has a hard time focusing on them. Someone lifts his head up by his hair. His eyes roll back into his head and Chase thought he's going to pass out when a sharp slap wakes him up. He blinks blood out of his eyes, tries to move and realizes he's now bound to a chair. Okay, so maybe he did pass out. Jesus fuck. Panicked, he looks for Sam, heart in his throat, fearing something might have happened to him while he was gone. He finds Sam immediately, by his side to his right. Chase breathes a sigh of relief. But it doesn't last long because Sam is staring at something in front of him with terrified eyes. Gabe.

Chase snaps his head around and freezes at the sight before him. Gordon is standing behind Gabriel with his gun out and stroking the side of his face. But instead of worrying about the gun that is now pressed against his throat where the bandage is, Gabriel seems more concerned about Chase. His brows are furrowed with worry and the look on his face is devastating. His fingers twitch at his side like they want to reach out and touch Chase.

"Now, Chase, why'd you have to go and do a thing like that? Now both Spike and Leo have a bad leg. And we do not tolerate that kind of behavior, do we boys?" Chase only now notices the rest of the men littering about, glaring daggers at Chase. Gordon trails the butt of the gun slowly down Gabriel's torso, skimming down his chest towards his stomach. He leans in low and whispers something in Gabriel's ear, soft enough that Chase's unable to hear what he said. Outwardly, it doesn't seem like Gabriel reacted at all but Chase is skilled enough in Gabe-talk to see the burst of fear in his eyes.

Gordon reaches the waistband of his jeans. Then, very deliberately he inserts it into the front of Gabriel's jeans, right where his crotch is. Gabriel's fingers twitch but other than that, he remains as still as a statue. Chase knows that Gabriel could feel the cold metal of the gun against the sensitive skin on his groin because they hadn't let him buy any underwear. Why would Gabriel need one when they're just going to take it off him anyway? Chase's eyes are glued on the bulge in Gabriel's jeans, his heart rate spiking. The unmistakable sound of a gun cocking echoes loudly in the silent room.

"Are you ready for your punishment, Chase? You better."

It's like every horror action movie Chase has seen when you just know something bad is going to happen and everything slows down. That's exactly what happens. The scene in front of him slows down. Chase can see the way Gordon's mouth twists up at the corner, an evil smile. See the disgustingly slow trail his tongue makes up Gabriel's neck. The deliberate movement of his mouth as he says, "Bang". Gabriel closes his eyes. Chase's heart stills. And then, a loud explosion shatters the stillness of the room.

Then, time seems to go back to normal. The ringing continues in the silence that follows. He stares, unable to process what he'd seen, his heart ready to explode from the shock and the subsequent realization. A dark stain begins to form at the front of Gabriel's jeans, drenching the fabric. He didn't realize his throat was stuck until it unstuck and he let out a scream. Anguish, pain, and despair rip out of his throat.

"GABE!

---

Today has been one disaster after another. First, they found out that Walker had been right under their noses the whole time. Then, they have just missed him at the hotel and at the same time discovered that Walker had Chase. And just to screw with him, he had the scare of his life thinking something had happened to Michael. Which luckily had turned out to be a false alarm.

That's the only saving grace for today because then Anna had called with more bad news. Sam is missing, and so is Chase. The part about Chase isn't surprising, but knowing that Gordon knows enough to take Sam as collateral jars him. To top off the already perfect day, the hospital had called to ask if he had taken Gabriel. Which he hadn't. And then they proceeded to double check with security and told him that yes, he did. Gabriel was seen leaving with Chase. By then, it was obvious what had happened.

He can't believe Walker now has three of his people. Gabriel included. How did this go so wrong? How did it go from Lucas hunting down Walker to Walker picking off his people one by one? He's so tired of being one step behind Walker the whole time, rushing to places just in time to see the aftermath. The motherfucker is spinning them in circles, probably laughing his ass off.

When Lucas had arrived at the hospital, he was greeted by a disheveled looking Zael. One look at him said it all. Zael possesses the ability to remain calm and collected in any situation. But even he is frazzled at the likes of Walker, his boldness and audacity like a fuck you to the face. If things don't stop escalating, he won't be able to keep this from the feds any longer. And he doesn't want that. He handed Lucas a note before storming off with a curt, "Clean up this goddamn mess, Lucas".

It's a note from Chase. In it, Chase had written about his side of the story, all of which Lucas was able to deduce based on the current evidence and circumstances. The only thing that peaks his interest is Chase's description of the place he thought they were being held at; an abandoned warehouse. That should narrow down the search. Chase also mentioned that Walker is not alone; he had seen two other guys at least excluding Walker. They'll have to sit down and dissect the video soon and figure out who they're dealing with.

Lucas stares at the map laid out in front of him on top of the small coffee table. To ensure that Walker will not be able to keep tabs on them, they are currently holed up in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in the world's crappiest apartment ever. The place is more a hole in the wall than anything else and Lucas is offended on Michael's behalf. He's very much doubting the sincerity of said 'friend' who had recommended this place.

The wallpapers are peeling revealing a sick yellow color behind them. It's not like the wallpapers were any better, a pastel pink that has seen better days. The apartment has one room and that room is supposed to be their living room, bedroom, and kitchen all in one. Can it be any more economical? Lucky for them, they're still provided with the decency of a toilet slash bathroom. Though, upon further inspection, it's revealed that there's no hot water and the flush is temperamental; deciding when to work and when not to.

"Can't your 'friend' get a better place than this crap?" Lucas complains. "Like where the hell did he even find a dump like this? This place is a hell hole." He sniffs. "Even smells like one." He slumps back onto the two-person couch and abruptly straightens back up, not wanting to touch the filthy thing more than he had to. He gives the couch a stink eye; taking in the discolored patches staining the brown fabric. He doesn't ever want to know what those stains are or where it comes from and he's staying the fuck away from them. Scooting to the edge of the couch, he braces his hands on his knees and stares up at the unperturbed blue eyed man standing on the other side of the table.

"Well, according to you, Ramsay is working with Gordon. And according to my man, the only place Ramsay couldn't reach is a place no men or women want to go. Therefore," he motions towards the room at large. "I know it's a bit- gross but you and I had seen worse. We once camped out in the middle of the forest in the pouring rain. At least now we have a roof over our head and..." He glances towards the lonely mattress stuffed into the far corner of the room. "Bed," he tries, lifting one shoulder up. Lucas looks at the dismal piece of quite possibly disease ridden mattress with disgust.

"If you think I'll be sleeping in that godforsaken mattress, you have another thing coming, Michael."

Michael shrugs and mutters, "Suit yourself." He looks down at the upside down map in front of him and tilts his head, frowning. "Do you want me to have a go at it?" he asks, indicating the map. Lucas turns the map around and shoves it at Michael, happy to delegate this part of the job. The analytic, the calculation, the thinking. Ugh, he hates them with fervor. And he's not good at it.

He's more of an in-the-field kind of person. He's better at deducing and thinking on his feet than sitting behind the desk and trying to make sense of intel and data. He's no good at research, hates the tedious work it requires, hates all the little details he has to pay attention to. It's mind-numbing and he would rather not do it. Which is why they make such a good team. Michael analyzes and comes up with a conclusion that he would understand and Lucas strategizes and plans their next move. Seems like a fair trade-off.

"It will be my pleasure," he almost groaned, watching as Michael crouches down lower to take a better look at the map. This cursed room only has one seating arrangement and that is the couch Lucas is currently hogging. Michael's face screws up in concentration as he picks up the red sharpie Lucas had been playing with and starts circling a few areas on the map; the Lullaby Blues motel, the hospital, the truck stop, the high school, Sam's middle school and the group home.

Then, switching to the blue sharpie, he draws a dotted line from the high school to the motel and scribbles 15 mins on top of it. He draws another dotted line from the motel to Sam's school. Pausing, he swipes his mobile phone and clicks on the Google Maps app. He enters the two addresses and scribbles the estimated travel time by car onto the map above the line; 20 mins. He hovers the blue sharpie over the circle where the hospital is at, deliberating.

Michael ignores the hospital and moves over to Lullaby Blues Motel, scribbling 10:55 in the red circle there. Then, 15:00 on Sam's middle school before going to the hospital and jotting down 16:30. Going back to his mobile phone, he searches out all the abandoned warehouses in the areas, marking them on the map with the red sharpie. Apprehension dawns on Lucas. Michael is trying to create a timeline to calculate the possible distance Gordon could make if he were to visit all these places at each point of time. That would narrow down their area of interest and then all he has to do is cross references them with warehouses in that particular area.

Lucas is impressed. Damn, Michael is a genius! But then again, the whole calculation part is going to take some tedious detail work. Something Lucas doesn't want to be part of. So, he slaps his hands on both his thighs and exclaims. "Well, I see you've got everything under control. Why don't I go and get us some dinner? I'm starving. We hadn't even had lunch yet. Pizza or pasta?"

Michael is looking up at Lucas with an annoyed expression on his face. He hates it when he's interrupted in the middle of his 'thinking' process. "Whatever is fine with me. You decide," he says in a monotone, diving right back into deciphering the timeline.

Standing up, he stretches pulling his hands up taut above his head until he hears the satisfying sound of his back popping. He groans, letting his hands fall. When he looks down, his heart thumps a little bit faster. Michael is no longer looking at the map but somewhere at Lucas's stomach, his face unreadable. His gaze is steady, and there's something unidentifiable burning behind them. Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, he clears his throat, catching Michael's attention as his eyes snap up to meet him. Without missing a beat, Michael comments.

"One day, you're going to snap something in your back if it keeps making noises like that."

Feeling flustered but trying not to show it, he counters. "Everyone does it, Michael. It feels good. You should try it sometimes." He rolls his eyes before adding, "And please stop crouching on the floor. You're making me hurt just looking at you. There's a perfectly sturdy albeit dubious couch over here so please, take a seat." He gestures towards the couch, presenting with a cocked brow and waits for Michael to respond.

It's Michael's turn to roll his eyes now as he pushes himself upright; shifting from foot to foot to encourage blood circulation back into his feet. Then, he moves to occupy the spot Lucas had vacated. He sits with his feet a comfortable distance apart and rests his arms on his knees before leaning forward to turn the map around. Lucas grabs his leather jacket and takes a few steps to the door, opening it.

Before leaving, however, he gives Michael one backward glance. He finds himself appreciating the way Michael's jeans clings at his thighs before his eyes zero in on the area where said thighs intercept and he swiftly drags his eyes away. Nope. Nope. He's not going to sexually fantasize about Michael again. One time a day is more than enough. He exits and closes the door behind him with a sigh.

There's a long line at the pizza place around the corner, but Lucas manages to secure two pizzas before it gets too dark. A Meat Lover with extra cheese topping for himself a Hawaiian Supreme for Michael. He's one of those people who thinks pineapples are appropriate pizza toppings. Lucas knows better than to comment on it because the last time he did, Michael had bitten into his slice with more enthusiasm than is appropriate for a pizza. The moan he had let out made something in his stomach felt sick. Now that Lucas thinks about it, he was most likely aroused.

Shaking his head at his own deniability, he climbs up the cramped stairwell. When he reaches the door to the apartment, he tries the knob. Locked. Huffing in irritation, he knocks. In addition to the abysmal apartment, the 'friend' only had one set of keys. To be honest, Lucas doesn't think this place even needs to be locked. The door looks flimsy enough that it wouldn't take much effort to break it down.

The door swings open and Michael is standing there. Shirtless. And glistening. Why is he glistening? Lucas stands frozen, his mouth agape, one hand balancing two pizza boxes and the other hanging awkwardly by his side. When Michael cocks an eyebrow at him, he snaps his mouth shut and shoves his way inside. He's very aware of the man behind him and the fact that he just brushed his very bare, very naked chest. His heart is pounding in his ears.

For crying out loud, get a grip, Lucas! It's not like he had never seen Michael shirtless before. They had lived together for two years and shared enough close quarters for him to have even stumbled upon Michael in tight boxer shorts before. This shouldn't be such a shock to his system. But his body is saying otherwise; his cheek is flushing, heart running amok, and there's a heat burning low in his gut.

Dropping the pizza boxes onto the table, he turns around and glares at Michael, suddenly furious. "There's no hot water. How are you taking a shower without hot water? Are you out of your mind?" Lucas's frustration is turning into anger real fast and he directs it at the source of his discomfort. Who at the moment is ignoring him in favor of rubbing his head with a white fluffy towel, flicking water everywhere. He flinched back as they splattered over him.

Michael is dressed only in his jeans, which are hanging dangerously low on his hips because it seems like the man can't even bother to button it up. Upon further inspection, not that Lucas wants to, but his eyes just roamed okay; he comes to the terrifying conclusion that Michael might be going commando. He chokes on air and tries to mask it with a burst of coughs, turning away to hide his steadfastly burning face. Jesus Christ, can't a man go out and buy pizzas and come back to a relatively normal environment?

"It's not that bad. It's good to have a cold shower once in a while. It helps improve blood circulation and relieve muscle soreness. Not that I'm sore at the moment. It did send me to full alertness though," Michael says behind him.

Lucas tries to ignore the double meaning in his words, knowing that Michael is being oblivious as always. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before he faces Michael again. Of course, he has to choose that moment to wipe down his chest. He can't stop his eyes from following that drop of water that trails down those abs to dry on the waistband of those jeans.

"You should try it sometimes," he adds, repeating what Lucas had said earlier before winking at him. Lucas wants to smash something. The nerve of that man. Michael starts to walk then, and he finds that he can't move, watches as the other man approaches him. He moves around him, his skin just barely grazing Lucas's jacket. His fingers twitch, but he clenches them back into fists. Michael drapes his towel over the busted heater.

Blinking back into his body, Lucas huffs. He slides his jacket off and grabs his box of pizza, collapsing onto the couch. He's going to pretend Michael doesn't exist and eat his pizza in peace. When he opens his box of pizza and the 6 big slices of bacon heaven stares back at him, he forgets all about Michael and his nakedness. He grabs a slice and bites into it, moaning as the cheesy sweetness melts in his mouth. Damn, he's starving, finishing the slice in three bites.

Just as he's about to grab his second slice, a body slumps right next to him, squeezing into his space. Now when Lucas says the couch is a two person couch, he means there's two seats on it, but the couch is small. Definitely too small for two grown men to be sitting side by side in.

He can feel Michael's thighs pressing right against him, almost on top of his own and he's still not wearing a shirt!. Their bare arms are touching now and when he tries to wriggle more space for himself, he accidentally elbows Michael in the chest, eliciting a groan from the man. Lucas can't handle this right now. He just want to eat his pizza without being sexually harassed. Is that too much to ask?

"Quit sitting on me," he snaps.

"I'm not. Scoot over then," Michael shoots back.

"I'm already at the edge!"

"So am I!"

Lucas shoves at Michael with his arm, wriggling and squirming in his seat trying to get comfortable. Michael shoves back just as hard.

"Quit shoving!" Lucas grumbles.

"You did it first."

Lucas closes his eyes. He had forgotten how often they squabbled like three years old sometimes over the most stupid things. He feels like time has just reversed itself and they're back at Michael's house. Michael is complaining about how he's the only one bothered to keep the house clean. "Your dirty dishes are still lying in the sink, Luke." Or "You can't just keep borrowing my clothes because you don't want to do your laundry!"

And of course, Lucas had to retort with his own discomfort like the fact that Michael loves using his coffee mug. Or the fact that his favorite time to practice his dagger throwing skills is when Lucas's sleeping. "If I don't know better, Michael I would say that the thudding sound is you having the best sex of your life. But I do know better and can you please keep it down while I'm trying to sleep?" And it will go on and on between them until eventually one of them will storm off.

Lucas exhales deeply, tilting his head back so that when he opens his eyes, he's staring at the stained ceiling. It feels like old time and Lucas doesn't know if he hates it or loves it.

Michael had stopped pushing and is now looking over at Lucas. They're sitting so close that it is unnerving to have Michael's blue gaze on him like that. "Eat your fucking pizza and stop staring," he says not looking at Michael as he grabs a slice of pizza. He chews on it and tries to distract himself with thoughts on the case.

"Did you manage to figure out where Walker is hiding?" he asks as Michael reaches forward to grab his own pizza box. He opens it and takes a slice out. He nods as he bites into it, then waits until he has finished chewing and swallowing to speak.

"They're at an old abandoned building. It used to be a restorative auto factory. Plenty of space and isolation to hold someone there. It's the only building large enough to be mistaken as a warehouse that fits the timeline. The others are way out of town, and unless Walker had multiple people kidnapping at the same time, which I don't think so, seeing as Walker was with Sam and later with Chase and Gabriel, it only seems logical that he was present at both scenes. Therefore, making this," He pokes at a spot on the map where he had circled three times "the only suspect." He leans back and takes another bite from his pizza. "What do you think? Rest up tonight or do you want to stake the place out?"

Lucas knows Michael would rather do the stakeout. He always wants to act as soon as he gets the info not wanting to waste another precious minute and Lucas is thinking the same thing. Every minute they're left at Walker's hand are minutes spent being tortured. If he were in their place, he would want him to come sooner rather than later. "We stake the place out tonight. Canvas the area. See how many people we're dealing with."

"If the opportunity presents itself, are we going in for the kill?"

Lucas thinks about it. It is risky. Michael's goal is to kill Walker. He may or may not care who gets caught in the crossfire. But knowing Michael, he would care a lot if they're kids. And in this case, they are. He thinks he can trust Michael to ensure the safety of his charges.

"Yes, if we see a shot, we go for it. But the safety of those kids is also a priority. I want them to make it out of this alive. Can you promise me that?" He owes Gabriel too much to let him die on his watch. The kid had done nothing wrong except to love him. And he had used him in his demented way to cope. Lucas sees it now, what Gabriel is to him; who he sees Gabriel as.

Michael nods. "I understand. And you trust me on this?"

Lucas stiffens up at that. "Can I?" he asks, his tone sarcastic and bitter.

"Yes, Luke." Michael is staring at him with those earnest blue eyes that Lucas feels himself get lost in them. He doesn't have it in him to get mad. Holding a grudge is tiring, and he had been holding one the size of Texas for too long. He's tired.

"Okay," he says instead.

Michael smiles and turns back to his pizza, taking another slice biting into it. Lucas doesn't say anything else but continues eating his pizza. They eat in silence. Their arms brush against one another as they move and their thighs are pressed closed together. Something feels different. The air feels easy, relaxed. The tension between them is gone.

Lucas doesn't know if it has something to do with his recent revelation, but he thinks Michael is different. He can't exactly tell in details what it was, but something about the way Michael acts towards him has changed. He seems to care more, listen more and actually tries to be understanding for once. Could it be guilt? Is Michael feeling guilty for what he'd done?

To be honest, he never quite understands how someone who had his back numerous times would be capable of something like this. They weren't best friends, but they weren't strangers either. He knows Michael has a strange sense of obligation and duty to his contracts, but why not reject the offer when he realized the target was Lucas? Why did he go ahead and took it? Was it because it's easy? Since Lucas would never suspect a thing. Maybe it's the money.

Looking at Michael now, he wonders if the man felt any remorse for what he did. The funny thing is, Lucas thinks he just might.