Prompt 216

[blackchaps]

Title: Hit and Run
Author: Blackchaps
Rating: Adult
Pairing: B/K - OZ AU
Summary: Beecher has a car accident, but it's Keller that he hits.
Warning: Drinks and Maryjane for everyone.
Beta: Suespur rocks my world.

*********

Every muscle in his body pulled tight when Toby hit the brakes. He strained, pushing down, eyes wide, and his mouth dropping open as he had one moment to pray that this wasn't happening. It was. The body slid up the hood of the car and for an instant he thought he saw blue eyes, and then hands slapped against the windshield.

Toby screamed. He didn't hear it, but his neck strained, and the seat belt grabbed him tight. Screeching tires, the breaking sound of metal, and he slammed back into the seat. No air bag. Fast. He had to get out fast, but nothing in his brain was working.

"The fuck you doing, running over me!" A long arm reached in and slapped him. Toby tried to shut his mouth. He could see blood. Blood. Hands. Oh God.

"Christ, you smell like a damn bar!" Hands fumbled at Toby's waist and he gasped in shock when he was jerked out of the car.

Trying to stand, he held on tight to him. "We gotta call the police." He blinked.

"Yeah, fuck that!" The man dragged him to the front of the car. "You trashed my bike!"

Toby swayed, seeing nothing but mashed bits and blood. The hands loosened, he dropped to his knees and puked.

"Ah, fuck!"

Strong hands ripped him up. If his feet were flat on the ground, he didn't know it. "Please."

"Please? I'm the one bleeding here!"

Toby could see it and his guts tightened again. "Police?"

The guy looked up and down the street. "Too nice a fucking neighborhood. Someone is calling the cops." He slapped Toby across the face, and it hurt! Toby tried to stand straight. He opened his mouth to say something, and he found himself being thrown in the back seat of his car. Curling up and crying was all he could think of, but he had to do the right thing. He fumbled for his phone, and it was ripped away.

"Don't push your luck!"

Toby sat up, clutching his chest. "Who the hell are you?"

"The guy you just ran over!"

The car was moving fast now, and he hoped he didn't barf in the back seat. His head was spinning, and he was breathing hard. He'd nearly killed a man while driving drunk. It would've been prison time. His life would've been over. Instead, he was being carjacked.

"I've just gone from the fire to the frying pan." Toby ripped off his glasses, clutched them tight, shocked when they snapped in half. He had to think, but he could almost feel his brain sloshing.

"Stupid drunk."

Toby tried to glare at the dark-haired man, but his eyes felt wobbly. "Where are you taking me?" Some fear was sinking in now. "And what about your motorcycle?"

The guy looked back at him. "I need to clean up. So shut up and sleep it off."

"But." Toby knew he had to say something. "It's my car."

"And you destroyed my ride. You owe me. One call to the cops and you'd be DUI for sure. You don't want that, do you?" The voice was almost rich with irony.

Toby put his hands on his eyes. His father would kill him. Genevieve would be so disappointed. Again. He took a deep breath and his hands shook. "You gonna hurt me?"

"Damn, when you pout, you're pretty." The guy laughed and turned a corner fast. Toby nearly fell over. He put his hands over his mouth and swallowed hard. It seemed like forever before the car stopped. He shrank away when the back door opened, but there was no fighting the strength that pulled him out. Staggering, he couldn't fight the fist that propelled him through a doorway into a crappy motel room.

"Lay down, asshole."

Toby fell on the bed from the push, and he couldn't help but curl up. The room spun around him, and even though he could hear water splashing, there was no way he could make a run for it. Fear was something he lived with daily, but this was a huge wad that he couldn't wash away with martinis.

"You piss on my bed, and I'll kick your ass."

"Can I go now?"

There was a long moment of silence. "We'll talk when you're sober."

Toby really didn't like the sound of that. The stress and fear and alcohol suddenly overwhelmed him, and he was out.

**********

Chris carefully pressed the towel against his knee. It was split open, but stitches weren't an option. They'd ask too many questions. He'd just have to be careful. Stupid drunk fucker had crushed a perfectly good Harley. Sure it hadn't been his, but it had been a damn nice bike. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey, tossed it back, and stared at him. The guy was soft - a baby. He'd probably cry. Chris sighed in disgust, peeled the towel off, and groaned. That was going to hurt in the morning. He yanked the hole in the knee wider. Drunken fuck owed him a bike and a pair of jeans, and this wasn't over until he got both.

**********

Toby staggered up, hit the wall, and fell down. "Where the fuck am I?"

Laughter answered him. He got up, leaned against cheap-ass paneling, and stared. "It wasn't a dream."

"Ah, no." The guy grinned. "Want a drink?" He brandished a bottle of cheap stuff.

Toby bolted to the bathroom and threw up. He sagged against the dirty floor, praying that somehow he could go back in time and start this day over, but nothing happened. Using the toilet, he got up and took one step to wash his face. Damn place was a shit hole, but there was water. He couldn't bring himself to touch the towel that hung by the filthy tub.

"Gonna live?"

Toby straightened his back. It was time to be a lawyer. "Who are you? I'm calling the police."

"Chris Keller, and no, ya ain't." Keller shook his head. "You owe me, you piece of shit lawyer."

Toby felt for his wallet, but it was gone. "We should have called the police! I don't owe you shit!"

Keller grabbed him by the collar and put him hard against the wall. "You owe me." Each word was separate and their faces were far too close. Toby swallowed hard and tried to think of a rational explanation, a way to weasel out of this, something. Keller's lips brushed along Toby's jaw. "You."

"Fine. Keep the car. Keep my damn wallet, but let me go! I have kids!" Toby put his hands on Keller's shoulders, but he wouldn't push. The guy might have a knife.

"Really? That's nice. I always wanted a couple." Keller eased back, but not much. He straightened Toby's suit for him. "No reason to fight about this. You were drunk. I gave you hand after you nearly killed me."

The guilt was easy. So easy. He clasped his hands together. "You okay?"

"No! My fucking leg is killing me!"

Toby nearly fell down. He didn't know if it was the blatant anger or the surge of shame. "I'm sorry. Let me take you to a hospital. I'll pay."

Keller narrowed his eyes. "Fuckers like you talk it, but they never walk it. I'm sure a six hour wait in an emergency room would be too much for you."

Toby frowned. "Please. Keep my wallet. But let's have your leg looked at. This place is filthy."

"Ain't the Ritz." Keller limped out of the bathroom. "You sober enough to drive?"

"Yes." Toby wanted to grab for the keys, take back a measure of control in this crazy situation, but fear kept him from doing it. Keller was obviously not someone to fuck around with. He gave Toby a hard look and then tossed him the keys.

"You drive. You want to run off, fine, but I know where you live and what your kids look like."

Toby's mouth went completely dry. He couldn't even breathe. "I'll do what you want."

Keller didn't look convinced. He slung on a leather jacket and limped to the door.

Toby followed him out to the car, looking back at the roach motel. "Place really sucks."

"Not everyone is a rich-ass lawyer." Keller slammed the door. "Fuck!"

Toby went with another round of guilt. "Sorry." He hoped he knew where they were. Heading for the highway, he drove quickly but carefully. "Sorry about your motorcycle."

"Yeah," Keller groaned out the word. "Watch the road!"

Toby jerked his eyes back to the road and flushed. He could feel a trace of grogginess still in his veins. Some food would help. He'd eat at the hospital. "You did bring my wallet, right?"

Keller groaned and put his arm over his eyes. "Shut up!"

"I can do that." Toby hoped he could. He usually talked too much - said the wrong things - when he was nervous. "I should call my wife."

"It ain't that late, and you're a lawyer. I'm sure you work all the fucking time." Keller sounded exasperated. "This was a bad idea."

Toby didn't want to know what that meant, but he didn't think he got to go home now. He drove faster, parking in the Emergency lot and trying his best to help Keller out of the car. Keller cursed and came close to hitting him, but Toby wrapped Keller's arm around his shoulders and helped him through the doors.

"Where is everybody?"

"Come here often?" Toby asked softly. He'd brought Keller to their local hospital. A nurse came to help, and Toby started lying, "He hurt himself doing some landscaping for me."

She nodded. "At least you got most of the bleeding stopped. We'll start the paperwork."

Keller frowned. "I don't have to wait?"

"You'll wait." The nurse smiled. "But it's a slow night, so we'll get you right in."

Toby didn't turn him loose until he slid up on the gurney. "Give a fake name, if you want. I'm paying cash."

"Landscaping?" Keller seemed to really look at him. "I like a guy who can lie."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Toby sighed heavily and sat down in a plastic chair. His wallet flew through the air and landed in his lap.

The nurse was suddenly back, and there was a shitload of paperwork that made Toby's eyes want to cross. He needed food. Keller lied his ass off, but he did it so well, and the nurse obviously thought he was handsome. Toby finally looked him over. Muscles, dark hair, strong features, and plenty of attitude: it was a dangerous package. Toby could only hope he got out of this situation alive and with part of his bank account intact.

"I'm going to go get some food. You want something?" Toby smiled his very best.

"Right." Keller snorted. He caught the arm of the nurse. "I work for him, and he's going to give me the slip."

The nurse had the gall to glare at Toby. "You wouldn't run out on him, would you?"

"I'll be right back." Toby groaned at Keller's slippery grin. As soon as he was out of sight, he almost ran for his car. Almost. He found a restroom, pissed, and washed his hands. Smoothing his hair down, he stared at himself in the mirror. His glasses and cell phone were gone somewhere, and he looked confused. Hell, he was fucked. Fucked up. He'd nearly killed that guy, and Keller was the type that would milk it for all it was worth.

Toby sighed and got moving towards the cafeteria. "I'm screwed."

*********

Chris didn't expect to see him again tonight, but that was okay. The hospital would send him the bill, and Chris would show up on his doorstep before the week was out. Maybe Toby's wife was pretty, and horny, and drunk like her husband. Anything was possible. Toby had fucked up, and he was going to pay, and then pay some more. That was how the world worked.

*********

Toby stood in the cafeteria, dithering. There was a pay phone. He had his keys. Keller was hurt and probably hungry. The guy lived in a dump of a hotel room. Toby had almost killed him. He was hurt. Toby needed a drink. A big one. He slumped down at a table, put his head in his hands, and tried to make his brain work.

"Can I help you?"

Toby looked up, anger pouring through him. The nun took a small step backwards and shame took over. He rubbed his mouth. "No. Thank you. I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced. "Is someone you love sick?"

The irony of that question wasn't lost on him. "No. There was a car accident, but we're fine. It was close, but we're fine." Saying it twice didn't make it real.

"Perhaps God was giving you a second chance." She patted him on the arm. "Would you like to pray together?"

"No, but thanks. I have to get some food." Toby had never prayed. It had always seemed like a waste of time. She smiled as if she knew something he didn't and left without protesting. He rubbed his face and made up his mind. He'd take Keller some food. Maybe if he sucked up to the guy, bought him a new bike, he'd ride away. It was possible.

Keller looked surprised when Toby handed him a bag of food and a soda. "Thought you beat it out of here."

"I was worried about you," Toby lied easily. "And I bet you're hungry."

Keller's eyes narrowed. "Don't try to run a game on me. I was a player before you were out of diapers."

Toby could well believe that even though they were about the same age. He'd have to play this more subtly. "You started young. Eat. Doctor been here yet?"

"Hell no." Keller ate quickly and didn't thank him. Toby sat back down in the plastic chair and reviewed his options. He didn't have all that many and those martinis after lunch might cost him dearly. Licking his lips, he wished for a drink. Keller laughed. "Need something?"

"Just thirsty." Toby got up and stretched, trying desperately to act nonchalant. He was in control now. He was sober, and drinking wasn't possible, not until he got home. Keller made a rude noise that showed off his lack of intellect, but he wasn't fooled. Toby ignored it. Finally, after a lifetime or two, the doctor and a nurse showed up.

"Nasty, but we'll get you put back together again. We're going to have to immobilize the leg so you don't pop it right back open." The doctor glanced at Toby. "Will you be able to help him out for a couple of days?"

Toby didn't think so. "Of course." Another lie and he thought Keller knew it.

"Good. You can go to the waiting room." The doctor smiled. "He'll be fine."

"Thanks," Toby muttered and got the hell out of there. He didn't even glance at Keller. Keller could handle it. He was tough. Toby slumped into a chair and asked himself again why he wasn't running, but the answer was easy. Keller knew where Toby lived. Running away, which was his normal style, would only give Keller control of the situation. He might show up when Toby was at work and God only knew what he'd do. Genevieve. Toby had to protect her and his kids, and that meant playing along and then making sure Keller had no incentive to come around again. It was going to be like walking a tightrope. He groaned softly. Damn the booze. Damn it!

Toby nearly walked out three times. It was the fear that kept his ass in the room. He did indulge in pacing and cursing under his breath, but he'd have to deal with this damn mess. Calling his father would not solve it. In fact, it'd make it worse.

"Hey, buddy, don't worry. I'm fine!" Keller mocked him with a huge grin. The nurse smiled at him.

"Here's the paperwork." She handed it to Toby. "Take him to his regular physician if there are any problems."

Toby couldn't see that happening. "Send me all the bills."

"We will." She was firm about that. "And you take it easy."

Keller put his hand on Toby's shoulder and leaned into it. Toby hoped his disgust didn't show on his face, but he couldn't control the flinch.

"Let's go. I'm sure you want to start taking care of me." Keller needed a black eye. He did. Toby swallowed down his rage - he was good at that - and helped him back to the car. He waited until they were both buckled.

"I'll drop you off at your motel. I have to get home." Toby tried to sound like he meant it. He did. This was over. "Come by in a few days and I'll write you a check for the motorcycle."

"You think a check is getting you out of this?" Keller laughed. "I can't go to work like this. No money. No motel. Hell, I don't even have a way to get to work! You took care of that. You did the crime, asshole, now you have to do the time."

"Words to live by." Toby glared at him. "Where the fuck is my cell phone?"

Keller smiled. He had it - the prick. "You mean, my cell phone, right?"

Toby bit his lower lip. "I'll cancel it later," he muttered.

Keller caught him around the neck and jerked him close. Toby gasped as Keller whispered in Toby's ear, "Don't make me hurt you, Toby."

"I'm not scared of you." Toby didn't know what to do with his hands. Keller chuckled and delicately licked Toby's ear. Toby couldn't get away, and he was afraid that he'd whimpered like a lost puppy.

"Fear is the least of it." Keller's other hand wrapped around Toby's arm. "Take me home. I want to meet your wife. Is she as pretty as you are?'

"No!" Toby fought now. He did, but Keller was stronger. Panting and sobbing, he quit, and Keller pulled him closer. "Please, no."

Keller smoothed his hand across Toby's face. "Drop me at the nearest bus stop."

Toby gasped in relief. "You mean that?" he blurted. Hope chased some of the fear away.

"Sure." Keller slowly turned him loose with only a small push. "I'll call you in a couple of days and we'll meet so you can write me a big check - a big one."

"That'll be fine." Toby started the car. He would do this. He would. Money would fix this - there was nothing to be scared of any longer. He glanced over at him. Smug. The bastard was smug. Toby didn't put it in drive. "You're lying."

"Nope." Keller was grinning now. "Hey, is your wife a drunk like you? Ah, never mind. I'll find out soon enough."

Toby clutched the steering wheel. "I'm fucked."

"Well, yeah." Keller laughed loudly. "Yer a lawyer. Find the loophole."

Toby put his head against the steering wheel. "I'm not taking you there. Find another solution that bends me over."

"Fancy hotel is good. King-sized bed and make sure there's a one of those cute little fridges stocked with the good stuff."

Toby couldn't even look at him. "And then I can go home?"

"Don't see why not." Keller stroked his hand down Toby's leg. "Of course, it'd be safer to make sure I'm on my way out of town on a Harley first."

"Bastard." Toby threw the car in gear and drove to the Mariott. He had an account there. "I have to call my wife."

Keller nodded. "You can borrow my phone when we get there. Anyone ever tell you that you're a sucky driver? How many other people have you killed, Toby?"

"One too few." Toby hated the sound of Keller's laughter. He snarled, "And my name is Tobias."

"Yeah, fuck that."

Toby concentrated on driving, keeping them on the road instead of giving in to the urge to slam into something that could kill them both. "I'm not calling you Chris."

"Most people don't." Keller shrugged. "Keep it polite or I'll beat the shit out of you."

"Figured you'd do that anyway," Toby mumbled. He pulled up to the main door. "I look like shit. We'll be lucky if they let us in."

"Charm 'em." Keller grabbed him by the arm. "This'll be fun."

Toby jerked away and got out. He tossed his keys to the valet and went around to help his carjacker. Keller leaned against him shamelessly, mirth dancing in those cold, blue eyes. The managerment seemed somewhere between appalled and eager to get them out of the lobby. Luckily, money talked and they'd been enjoying his business for years.

Keller managed to schedule a massage for the next day, and it was years before the door finally shut and Toby could shove him away.

"Hey! I'm hurt, you asshole!" Keller caught himself on the side of the wall. He straightened up and leveled a glare that Toby that was scary at best - pyschotic at worst.

Toby tried to do damage control fast. "I'm sorry. You pissed me off!"

"So run me down with your car!" Keller tugged off his ripped leather coat and handed Toby the phone. Toby took it and another big mouthful of guilt. He rubbed his forehead, refusing to give in to it. Snapping open the phone, he punched the buttons.

"Tobias! I've been worried sick!"

Toby turned to face the door, trying for some privacy. "I'm sorry, dear. I ran into a huge problem on the way home. I'm going to have to travel out of town to deal with it."

"Damn, you're good." Keller needed to shut up.

"Are you okay?" Genevieve wasn't a complete idiot. "Can you at least come home and kiss the kids goodnight?"

Toby had to do it. "I'll be there soon. Can you pack four days for me?" He didn't deserve her. She was ten times the person he was.

"I will. Thanks for calling. Soon?"

"Yes, and put in some casual clothes. Love you." Toby shut the phone and turned. "I am going home."

"Kiss yer wife for me." Keller grinned. He'd already raided the mini-fridge. "I could use a clean shirt."

Toby squeezed his phone tight. "Three days."

"Maybe four." Keller shrugged. "Give me the phone."

Toby wasn't going to do it. He wasn't. Keller took a step. Toby handed it to him quickly. The asshole grinned.

"You can get your spare. I know you have one."

"Fuck you."

Now Keller let loose with a big smile. "Hurry back."

Toby didn't dignify that with an answer, but he'd be back, and Keller knew it. It was too damn bad that there was no way to make quality hotel doors slam, but he did his best.

**********

Chris eased back on the bed, pulling his leg up and biting his lip to keep from shouting. They'd given him a prescription for pain med, but if he wanted it, he'd have to bully Toby into getting it for him, and Toby was right on the edge of breaking. It was time to be nice to him - work the guilt - and make sure he stuck around. He was no dummy. Sooner or later, he'd run off, hire some security, and make sure his family couldn't be touched, but right now, he was weak, vulnerable, and Chris intended to exploit it. It was the booze. It made him stupid. Getting him drunk and maybe sliding him out of that suit would be fun.

**********

Lingering over the hugs and kisses of his children didn't make the painful reality of where he was going any easier. His wife had that look on her face. He was sure she'd smelled the vomit and liquor on his clothes, and he'd been careful to shower before seeing his children.

"Toby, please tell me what's going on."

She was pleading. Her eyes round and large and her mouth set in perpetual disappointment. Toby grabbed some shorts and T-shirts and stuffed them in the bag. Keller wasn't going anywhere. He could wear shorts. Toby finally managed to meet her eyes.

"If I don't do this, our life here is over. Over." He emphasized each word. "Yes, I screwed up, and I have to fix it. Three days, maybe four, and I'll be home, and we'll go on."

"Will we?" She didn't look convinced.

"Yes!" Toby had to believe it. He hurried to his dresser and found his spare phone. It was dead so he grabbed the charger. "Call me at this number but only in an emergency. Promise me."

She slowly nodded. "I won't call. And your father? The firm?"

"I'll call and take the days. I have no choice. None." Toby wasn't going to tell his father. Not ever. He made sure he had plenty of money and impulsively went to the bathroom for an extra toothbrush. Keller had nothing. It would've been easy to feel sorry for the poor bastard if he hadn't been such a bastard. Toby took a deep breath and did an inventory. He had enough, and he could go shopping if he had to, if Keller let him.

"Just hold me, okay?" he asked his wife softly as he turned to her. She pulled him into an embrace, and he did his best not to cry. Fucked up did not begin to describe this, and as usual, he'd done it to himself. She pulled back and looked him in the eye.

"When you get home, we'll deal with this."

Toby made no promises. If he got home, he'd do his best to forget it, maybe in a bottle of vodka. He smiled - or he tried - and kissed her. "Bye."

"Be safe."

He didn't look back. If he did, he'd cry, and now wasn't the time for that. Right now, he had to be tough, which wasn't something he was good at, but he had to fight Keller. Keep him off-balance and get out of this with only a dent in his bank account. That he could stand. He took a moment to stare at the front of his car before getting inside. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good. Something else to fix. He threw his bag in the back seat and got in fast. There wasn't a choice. Keller had him by the balls.

The trip back to the hotel didn't take near long enough, and Toby had to force his legs down the hallway. He stripped the card through the lock and pushed the door open.

"Hey! Glad you're back!"

Toby could only stare. Not only did Keller sound sincere, but there was a lot of food on the bed, and beer. Keller was grinning. Toby tossed the bag and tried to sound casual.

"Hungry, huh?"

"Hell, yeah. That cheeseburger didn't go far." Keller waved at the bed. "Come on. Dig in. The nachos are great."

Toby had to swallow some vomit that suddenly appeared in his mouth. He was not going to pretend that he was at a convention with a buddy of his and later they'd go watch pole dancers. "No. But thanks." He cautiously sat down in a chair as far away as possible. He'd sleep here.

"Damn, you're uptight." Keller went back to eating and then took a long drink from his beer. "At least have a beer. After all, you bought."

"Asshole," Toby hissed. His hand had a beer in it before he could argue about it. He twisted the top savagely and drank half of it before coming up for air.

Keller's eyes twinkled. "Damn. You're good at that, but I bet I can beat you to the bottom of the bottle."

Toby doubted it. He'd honed his skill in a frat house, and he'd be surprised if Keller had graduated high school. "No one can drink faster than me." He sat back with a small thump. The TV was laughing about something, but he didn't look at it. Another long drink and he was relaxing a little. This wouldn't be too bad, right?

"You ever just wear jeans and a T-shirt?" Keller was staring at him very intently. "You still look like a prick lawyer."

"It's what I am." Toby finished his beer and put it aside. "What are you?"

Keller's eyes narrowed. "Little of this, some of that." He didn't seem to like the question.

Toby laughed at him. "Aren't you a little old to own nothing but a pair of jeans? Where's the job? The family?"

"She divorced me," Keller spat out the words. "And the one thing I did own, you ran over!"

"I'll buy you a better one," Toby promised. He was well aware that if this case had gone to court, he might have been disbarred, done a short stint behind bars, and been sued for most of his worth. His life would have been effectively ruined. He met Keller's dark blue eyes and saw a glimmer of something mean in them. Keller knew all that. He was no dummy. Toby would have to give him everything he wanted. Toby took another beer without asking.

Keller popped open a new one. "Race?"

Toby laughed almost against his will. He twisted it open. "Go!" He didn't bother to watch Keller drink. When it was empty, he pulled it down, and belched. Keller was about two seconds behind him.

"Damn!" Keller laughed. "Never seen anyone with throat action like that!"

"A skill I take great pride in." Toby wasn't sure he wanted to know that Keller had been staring at him. He suddenly threw caution to the wind. "The nachos are good?"

Keller nudged the tray closer. "Very." His eyes were bright and his smile was big. "I don't bite."

Toby doubted that. Keller would do anything. He was that kind of man. Toby sat gingerly on the big bed and ate a little, but he kept a watch on Keller's hands. Being on the end of Keller's fists was not something Toby wanted to do. Keller seemed oblivious. He ate, drank beer, and laughed at the television - perfectly happy.

"You do this often? You seem to be having a good time." Toby watched him carefully.

Keller's smile faded away. "I learned a long time ago to take what I could get and enjoy it because it'll be gone damn soon."

Toby frowned, wishing he didn't understand that feeling. "I learned not to give a damn because it didn't mean anything anyway."

"Difference between me and you." Keller's voice was soft, but laced with steel. "I want to enjoy myself. You'll wallow in self-pity until you die and everyone will breathe a sigh of relief and say, 'he's gone to a better place.' And it'll be true."

"Oh, fuck you," Toby snarled, unable to deny all that and aching from the truth of it. "You don't know shit about me."

Keller laughed again. "It's all over your face. I bet you don't win in the courtroom very often."

"I'm not that kind of lawyer." Toby narrowed his eyes, angrier than he'd been in years. Usually he felt washed out - just dead inside. The only bright moments in his day were his children, and he lived in fear that he was fucking them up. He struck back hard. "So, you're mother was a whore and your dad could have been one of ten men?"

That smile fell off Keller's face fast and the laugh was gone instantly. Toby nearly shrank back, and he did drop his nacho as Keller's eyes narrowed. Keller looked homocidal. Toby didn't know whether to run or piss his pants.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean it." He had, but he was a liar at heart.

Keller moved as fast as a striking snake - his hand wrapping around Toby's wrist. "You're a fucking liar as well as a drunken coward and shithead. You know, I think I'd rather have nothing than be you."

Toby heard the words and they lashed at him, but the hand that was grinding the bones of his wrist was making him want to cry out. "I'd rather be you too." The truth that he blurted out made shame crawl up his spine. He tried to wrench his arm away, but it was useless. "Please let go."

"Tell you what - I'll go home to your pretty wife and you can have my jeans." Keller didn't smile, but he turned him loose. "Fucking whiner."

"That's me," Toby managed to croak, rubbing his wrist. He moved fast back to his chair, but he took his beer. He'd need it and maybe another one or two. His breath shuddered in and out and suddenly he was ashamed of his clothes and cleanliness. Keller was sitting in bloody jeans and hadn't showered since Toby had run him down.

Toby slammed his beer back for courage. "Why don't you let me help you shower and change clothes? You've got to feel scummy."

"I can feel asphalt in my shorts." Keller frowned at him. "Don't pretend you give a shit. It's all about you - twenty four seven."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't mean to run you down. I want to help." Toby stretched the truth as far as he could, trying to look earnest. "Did the doc say anything about getting it wet?"

"He said not to." Keller looked very suspicious. "I ain't taking no damn sponge bath."

Toby tried to laugh, hoping he succeeded. "Saran Wrap will work." He got up and scooped up all the stuff that had been on the food. "Gary broke his arm. We wrapped it every time he bathed." He couldn't help but smile a little. His son was a pistol and so much not his father, which was a blessing.

"You gonna shove me down?" Keller sounded suspicious. "Drown my ass?"

"I should, but no." Toby didn't even have the guts to glare at him. There was a long moment where Keller looked uncertain, and then he nodded brusquely. Toby would help and then hopefully, the asshole would fall asleep until morning. With that thought uppermost, he went to turn on the water.

*********

Chris slowly unstrapped the brace that kept his leg straight, taking time out for another sip of beer and one more nacho chip. He was filthy, and while he was poor, he was never dirty. His mother, not a whore, had taught him that. Anger poured through him again, but he shoved it to a safe distance. Toby was going to be an easy nut to crack. He was full of guilt and a whiny baby. Chris eased off his shirt, throwing it in the corner. He would wrap Toby around his little finger before sundown tomorrow. Easy.

*********

Toby gasped when he saw his handiwork all over Keller's chest. "Motherfuck!"

"Yeah, you'd think I was hit by a car or something!" Keller leaned back flat on the bed. "Pull the jeans off, will ya?"

Toby grabbed the cuffs and yanked, averting his eyes.

"You fucker!"

Toby looked and cringed. "Sorry." This time he was. He wiped his hand through his hair. "You just scare me, okay?"

Keller snorted. "I'm the one that can't fight you off. Help me up. Please."

Toby was shocked at the polite request, but it was hard to touch a naked man. He reached, trying desperately not to look. "You probably hurt all over."

"Probably." Keller had a corner on the sarcasm market. He leaned heavily on him, practically dragging his leg. "Shit. It hurts!"

"They didn't give you any pain medication?" Toby asked breathlessly, feeling as if someone was pressing the air from his lungs.

Keller gasped several times and didn't answer until they were in the bathroom. "Yeah, but I knew you wouldn't want to get it."

Toby couldn't deny that, but now he felt guilty. Guiltier. It was a familiar feeling, but Keller hadn't even asked. The guy had assumed that Toby didn't give a damn. Toby didn't, and he hated that it showed on his face. He wrapped the bruised and bandaged knee carefully in the Sarah Wrap, refusing to look at Keller's package.

"Okay, get in. I'll stay right here, in case you have trouble." Toby hoped he sounded normal. He felt as if someone had been kicking the shit out of him, but Keller was the one covered with bruises and cuts. "I think you're lucky I didn't kill you."

"I'm never lucky." Keller gave a grunt. "Can you soap my back? Without killing me?"

Toby couldn't even draw a deep breath. He opened the curtain, checked the knee, and took the soap. "You big baby."

Keller stood on one leg, bracing his hands against the tiles. Toby didn't look. He soaped, keeping his hands up high. The soap could drizzle down. Down. Oh fuck. He'd looked. More guilt cruised through his veins. He was more gentle. The instant he was through, he shut the curtain and found a towel to wipe himself off.

"They have bathrobes in this fancy place?"

Toby knew they did. "No."

"I didn't think I could like you any less, but turns out, I can." Keller shut off the water and threw the curtain back. Toby looked at his shoes and held out a towel. It was snatched away. He looked up quickly, bit his lower lip, and went to call Room Service. A bathrobe was a very good idea. Cover up all that skin - fast. That done, he rummaged through his bag, set his phone to charging, and took Keller some boxers. It was immediately apparent that he would have to help him put them on and he gave out a soft groan of despair.

"Dry my back?"

Toby patted it dry. "You sure nothing is broken?"

"Doctor said no." Keller found another towel and scrubbed at his hair. It stood almost straight up, but there wasn't much of it so it looked pretty stupid. For some reason that made Toby feel better. A soft knock at the door and he got Keller his bathrobe. Keller slid into it as if it were his due.

"Here's some boxers," Toby said lamely.

"Yeah, like I can put those on. Moron." Keller tied the robe. "I should've grabbed my toothbrush."

Toby went back to his bag and brought his things in the bathroom. "I brought you one."

"Really?" Keller smiled. "Thanks. Maybe you ain't so fucking bad."

"I suck. Keep that in mind." Toby knelt down and removed the Saran Wrap. The bandage was dry, and he would not look up at Keller's face. "It's okay. I'll get your brace."

Keller might have smirked or nodded. Toby didn't know because he didn't look. He got the brace off the bed and put it on him. Quickly. But Keller put his hand on Toby's shoulder anyway. Toby shoved the hand away. He sure as shit didn't need that or want it or like it.

"You haven't sucked yet," Keller taunted him.

Toby walked out, going back to his chair and a slightly warm beer. He drank it all and slumped back. The ceiling stared back at him, laughing at him. Three or four days of this? He'd have to get drunk and stay that way.

"I know an all night pharmacy. I'll go fill thate prescription for you." Toby had a friend. It wouldn't be a problem, and he had to get out of here. "Okay?"

Keller hobbled out and leaned against the wall. "It's in my jeans. Hey, can you get me some condoms?"

Toby nearly threw up. "Sure," he whispered raggedly and fled the room after grabbing the wadded up prescription. He practically ran to the stairs. It wasn't his finest moment.

*********

Chris grinned after him. This was going good. Toby had already been on his knees. A push and he'd be asking for it. He was gay. Chris knew a gay lawyer when he saw one. That wife didn't make a damn bit of difference. She was probably sick of it. Toby hadn't even been able to look at him, but his hands had been gentle. Chris groaned softly and made his way to the bed. Carefully, he lay back against the headboard. Arranging his robe so he was covered, he laughed. This wasn't going to take long, and it was going to be sweet.

*********

Toby didn't rush. He had to sweet talk his friend into filling the prescription and it took a little longer than usual, which was fine.

"This is a pretty strong painkiller. Don't mix alcohol with it."

Toby promised, nodded, and said all the right things so he could go. His friend looked convinced. That was all that mattered. Toby smiled grimly. He might pass the message on. He might not. If Keller died of an overdose, that would not be Toby's fault. Shame suddenly burst through him. He was going to kill a man over the price of a Harley? That done, he sought out the condoms. His hand trembled as a picked out one he remembered buying when he was in college. Why did Keller want them? Toby's ass clenched and he nearly put them back.

"Need some help?"

"God no." Toby snatched them, paid, and ran out into the fresh air. He took several gulps of air, trying to find his brains. Giving up, he got in the car and peeled out of the parking lot. He had to get a grip. Play it cool. Not give a damn. He was going to need alcohol. Beer wasn't going to cut it. He whipped into a liquor store and bought a bottle of Jack Daniels - his mind obliterator of choice. Feeling much better about life, he went back to the hotel and forced himself to go in the room. His prayer that Keller had fallen asleep had gone unanswered of course.

Keller immediately looked at him. "Brown bag?"

Toby was glad the robe was shut. He tossed Keller the pills. "The pharmacist said not to mix alcohol with the pain pills."

Keller tore it open and looked at the pills. "It's just percocet. Not a problem."

"You sound like you know better than a guy that does it for a living." Toby retrieved a glass and poured himself two fingers. He slammed it back, refilled, and went to sit down, but he took the bottle.

"They always lie." Keller took one and washed it down with beer. Toby sipped his whiskey and made up his mind not to feel guilty about it. The TV was still on, and Keller kept giving him looks. Toby wasn't sure what it all meant. He nursed his drink and tried not to look at him. The robe. The robe had to go. Keller wouldn't quit fidgeting with it.

"I brought you some clothes." Toby didn't want to put them on him, but he had to do something. "I can help."

Keller didn't look worried about it, and that robe was covering less and less. Toby took a big drink and went to dig him out a shirt. He threw it at him. Keller caught it easily.

"Okay." Keller untied the robe, and Toby had to shut his eyes. It didn't help. The image was burned into his retinas. Keller didn't laugh, thank God. Toby had to find the shorts. Fast. He approached the bed as if it were full of hot coals.

Keller looked him in the eye. "Gonna help or stand there with a stupid look on your face all day?"

Toby helped, and his hands caught fire. His lungs also seemed hot and he hated that the inside of his mouth was dry. Keller put a hand on Toby's arm.

"Get the fuck off me! You a fag or something?" Toby got the hell back to his chair, fury pounding in his veins. He was mad, damn it.

Keller laughed softly. "I do what I have to."

Toby didn't like that answer. He emptied his glass and tried to glare at him. "Just shut up tonight."

"I thought all you fuck lawyers were politically correct." Keller was still laughing, sitting there in Toby's clothes. "Your boss know you got a filthy mouth?"

"Just fuck off." Toby poured himself another round. He was shaking, and he hated himself, and he hated Keller for doing this to him.

Keller's voice was soft now. "I think I've changed my mind. I'll keep the jeans. You suck."

"Told ya." Toby began to feel the effects of the whiskey. He hadn't eaten enough, and he should stop. He should. He took another drink. Guilt, so familiar, was all he seemed to have lately. "I'm sorry, but you need to keep your hands to yourself."

"I was trying to be nice. Fuck that." Keller started flipping through the channels. At least he was being quiet. Toby put the lid back on the bottle and slid it a little further away. That was all. He couldn't afford to get drunk. Keller might hump him. Toby chewed his lower lip.

"Hey, where're the condoms?"

Toby put his face in his hands for two seconds. He got up to get them out of his coat and threw them at him. Keller caught them and put them in the drawer by the side of the bed. Toby took a tiny sip of his last drink. He'd make it last.

The sounds on the TV finally broke their way through all the whiskey. He frowned, looked, and nearly cried out from frustration. It was porn. The fucker had bought a porno movie. Keller smiled and stuck his hand in his shorts. Toby swallowed hard.

"I am not cleaning that shit up!" Toby jumped to his feet. "You can't do this to me!"

Keller licked his lower lip. "Shut up. I haven't seen this one."

Toby slammed his way into the bathroom. He'd stay in here until morning.

**********

Chris laughed and slowly jacked himself. Looking at Toby had helped, but the movie was fine. This was going pretty well. Toby was obviously still in denial, but he wouldn't last long. Chris cupped his balls. He could almost feel sorry for him. The lawyer was fucked up, getting drunk just to avoid having guy sex. Stupid. Why not relax and enjoy whatever came along? Chris grabbed a couple of napkins off the tray, pulled his cock free of the shorts, and went at it hard. Felt pretty good, but Toby's mouth would feel better. Yeah.

**********

Toby raised his head from his hands and winced from the view provided by all the conveniently placed mirrors. He didn't need to see that. The whiskey roiled around in his stomach, and he breathed through his mouth. He couldn't hear what Keller was doing, but that didn't keep him from imagining it. Keller had a big dick. That was a certainty.

"I am not a woman!" Toby screwed his eyes shut and pressed his palms into them. "I'm not gay," he whispered. He loved his wife, he did. They'd wanted to get married. He took another shuddering breath. His kids - God he loved them.

"Can I piss?"

Toby practically flew off the toilet. He wanted to punch him, kick him, hurt him, but he wasn't that kind of man. "Just let me go. Please. I'll give you fifty grand. Please."

Keller braced himself against the cabinet. "Ever cheated on your wife?"

"No!" Toby was desperate to get passed him, but that would mean touching him. "Please."

"Go on home. Don't give a shit." Keller hobbled two steps, pulled it out, and started pissing. Toby squeezed by him and was immediately confronted by the porno movie. Two guys, one girl, and everyone was having fun. Flesh smacking, mouths agape, groans, and big dicks slamming. His cock grew hard, and he hated himself even more, which he hadn't thought was possible.

Keller was suddenly close, but not touching. "Sit and enjoy yourself. It's just porn."

Toby sat down hard on the bed, looking up at him. "I hate you."

"You're scared. Probably the first time you ever screwed up and had to pay the price yourself." Keller inched closer, but didn't block the TV. "Ever cheat on your wife?"

"Oh God." Toby tried to look away from the woman giving head but couldn't manage it. He was sick. Perverted. His father would kill him. "Yes."

Keller slowly sat down next to him. Too close. Far too close, but all Toby could see was her mouth. He tried to move away. His body wouldn't do it. Keller's mouth was right at Toby's ear.

"Booze ain't gonna fix it. Anger ain't gonna make it go away." Keller's voice was rhythmic, soft, and full of dangerous things. "She know you like guys?"

Toby forced himself to look Keller in the eyes. "No one knows."

"Not even you, huh?" Keller traced his finger across Toby's jaw, and Toby flinched at the touch. He wouldn't do this, couldn't do this. Everyone in his business cheated on their wife, but he'd only done it once. He'd been drunk, of course. She had been supremely unimpressed, and he'd vowed never to do it again. Too damn embarrassing.

"I like women." Toby did. A hard groan caught his attention and he looked at the screen again. They were fucking her hard now - both of them. She was crying out. It was porn. It was fake.

"So do I. Soft breasts, long legs, pretty hair." Keller's hand moved to Toby's zipper. "Let me help."

"No," Toby gasped, but it was too late, and he had no idea what to do with his hands. His head twirled from the booze. It was the booze, damn it, and he bit his lower lip, trying desperately to grab his things and run away. Far away. He failed, again. "Please."

"It's hard. I know." Keller's hand moved up and down the length of Toby's cock. "That chick likes it up the ass. You ever do that?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Toby managed to look at the hand on his dick. A hundred crazy images flashed through his mind and he knew he was lost. All the running, all the booze, all the pretending: it had led him here, and he was so tired of it all. "I nearly killed you."

"Yeah. It's okay. You ain't the first to try." Keller's lips were on his neck. Toby shuddered. Keller lifted Toby' face so he saw the screen again. "He's gonna come all over her back."

Toby cried out, but it wasn't pain that forced it from him. "I can't!"

"You should." Keller's mouth teased him. The big hand moved expertly up and down, forcing the pleasure on him. He didn't want this, but it was happening. It wasn't his fault. Keller whispered," Stand up. I'll suck you."

Toby did as he was told, but he never took his eyes off the TV. He wasn't responsible. This was nothing. Warm, hot, slick engulfed him, and he thrust mindlessly into it.

"Oh, yeah, fuck my ass!"

"Not my fault," Toby whispered, coming so hard down Keller's throat. Keller had sucked it out of him. Toby nearly fell to his knees, but he hit the bed when his dick was turned loose. He curled up, astonished that there were tears on his face. Keller lay down next to him and wiped them away.

"I know I'm good, but damn." Keller's hand traced over Toby's lips. "Kiss me."

Toby shook his head. He shut his eyes and refused to look at him. It hadn't happened. This wasn't real. He was drunk. Blacked out. Tomorrow, he'd wake up in his own bed with a wife that never sucked his dick.

"It's okay, Toby," Keller said softly; his lips brushing Toby's cheek. "Go to sleep. I got your back."

Toby sniffed, toed off his shoes, and attempted to straighten his pants. Exhausted, he quit trying. He turned his back and willed himself to sleep. This was all a nightmare.

**********

Chris watched him fall asleep. Toby would try to pretend it didn't happen, but Chris was going to remind him first thing in the morning. There wasn't any reason they couldn't be friends. Toby was a selfish asshole, but that didn't mean nothing. Chris took his time turning off the TV, the lights, and getting comfortable on the bed. Getting Toby down to his boxers took some creativity, but Chris was up to it. Toby crawled under the covers with only a grunt or two, and Chris waited until he was sure before going close and kissing him.

"You are so fucked up," Chris whispered. He smoothed his hand down Toby's body. "This is gonna be fun."

*********

Toby couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up to Genevieve's kisses, so this was nice. He kept his eyes closed and kissed her back, surprised and pleased when her tongue stabbed deep in his mouth. He groaned softly and lazily rubbed her back. Muscles. Stark shoulder blades. His eyes popped open.

"You bastard!" Toby hissed at that wide grin. "I thought you were my wife!"

"She fuck your mouth with her tongue?"

Toby was totally thrown by the question. "Uh, no." He blushed, realized he was in just his boxers, and started moving for the edge of the bed. "You did this to me!"

"And, you liked it." Keller yawned and gave a small stretch. "Can you make some coffee?"

"Fuck you!" Toby went to hide in the bathroom. He pissed, scrubbed his hands through his hair, and wished for whiskey. Instead, he made the coffee. Leaving, by God, he was leaving. Keller was fine. He could keep the damn phone.

"Room service!"

Toby groaned and found some pants before opening the door. "Sorry." She frowned at him, and he couldn't find the strength to care.

"Ah, dios mio." She crossed herself, and Toby saw why two seconds later.

"Put on some damn clothes!"

Keller grinned. "Need help. Please?"

Toby hated him. Hate. Hate. Leaning against the wall, stark naked, with a grin on his face. For one instant, Toby wanted to kill him.

"Did someone try to kill you?" the lady shrieked.

"Yeah, he did." Keller pointed and took a limping step. Toby got him to the bathroom before she called the cops.

"You need to shut your fat mouth!" Toby growled at him. "And where the fuck are your clothes?"

"I got hot!" Keller nuzzled him on the neck. "Used to sleeping alone."

"Jesus Fuck." Toby helped him sit down. "Your leg is swollen. I'll get some ice and clothes. When did you take your last pain pill?"

"Dunno." Keller just wouldn't stop touching him.

Toby pushed the grabby hands away. He wet a washcloth and threw it on Keller's flagpole. Keller yelped and glared as Toby beat it out the door. The maid's eyes were still huge.

"Don't go in there until he's dressed. He was hurt in a car accident. I'm trying to give him a hand." Toby had to explain. She might call the cops. He rubbed his hand through his hair. "I need to get him an ice pack."

She moved quickly, snatched, and handed him a plastic bag. "It is a good thing you are doing. Helping."

"Uh, right." Toby blushed. He got the ice fast, grabbed Keller's clothes from the floor, and went back to him. "I don't want to see it."

"Damn, you're pissy in the morning. Good coffee though." Keller had a mug of it. Toby got him dressed again and slapped the ice pack down much harder than he should have. Stupid prick.

"Fuck!" Keller screeched. His fist instantly lashed out and caught Toby across the cheekbone. Toby sat down hard, grabbing his face. His head spun around twice. He'd deserved that, but no one had ever had the guts to give him one.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He staggered up and out the door. The maid crossed herself again and muttered in Spanish. He snitched another plastic bag from her maid's cart and got himself an ice pack. She was helping Keller to the bed when he got back. She fussed over him, getting him coffee and an extra pillow and shooting the occasional glare at Toby.

"Thank you, Maria." Keller oozed sincerity. "That was my mother's name." He smiled so prettily at her. She was eating it up. Toby sat down heavily in his chair, put the ice pack on his face, and eyeballed the whiskey. It wasn't even lunch, but he needed a drink. Maria finally went to clean the bathroom, and Keller smirked at him.

"God, you're a liar."

"Like you." Keller popped a pain pill and drank some coffee. "Want one?"

"No." Toby wanted three, but it wasn't a good idea. He was stupid enough around this man. "Can I go home now?"

Keller rolled his eyes and flopped his head back. "Would you like to beat me up before you go? Throw me in a ditch? Oh! Run over me with your car!"

Toby was glad the ice pack kept him from blushing. "Shut up!"

"Prick."

"Asshole." Toby looked longingly at his bottle of Jack Daniels.

Keller groaned. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you get drunk again? That'll make it all better."

"Damn right it would," Toby growled. He wanted to throw his ice pack at Keller's head, but he put it down and went to get some coffee. He'd add some whiskey, but he waited until Maria was gone with a final pamper for Keller and a dirty look for him. Keller gave him a cheesy smile. He loved the attention.

"Breakfast?" Keller asked. "Or are we drinking it?"

"You sound like my damn wife." Toby took a big drink of coffee. That was better.

Keller looked surprised. "Then she's about one week from divorcing your ass. You better call her and make nice."

It was Toby's turn to be surprised. "I . . . uh-"

"You want a divorce?" Keller frowned. "Rich guy like you, she'd take to the cleaners."

Toby went to get his phone. He wasn't going to argue about it. "Call room service. Get some food."

"They don't open until three." Keller could obviously read. "Hey, don't worry. I'll crawl downstairs."

"I hate you." Toby didn't bother trying to slam the door this time.

**********

Chris grinned after him. Damn, this was a sweet setup. Sure, he hurt like fucking hell, but that was life. The pain med would help and he'd rarely had that. He sipped his coffee and adjusted his dick. That kiss. Wow. He was going to need more and getting them out of that pissy lawyer was the best game in town.

**********

End part 1 of 3

Title: Hit and Run
Fandom: OZ
Author: Blackchaps
Rating: Adult
Pairing: B/K - OZ AU
Summary: Beecher has a car accident, but it's Keller that he hits.
Warning: Drinks and Maryjane for everyone.
Beta: Suespur rocks my world.
Disclaimer: Tom Fontana and HBO own OZ. I'm just here for the booze.

*********