Baywatch/Animal Kingdom: Extenuating Circumstances (2/6)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
-o-
The good news is scant, but it’s still good, so Brody will take that for what it’s worth. He’s learned, in his ample experience with shitty situations, to aim really, really low. That’s the only way to be happy as a foster kid who bounced through the system like some kind of stupid pinball.
And the good news is this: with Deran outside, he’s not technically being held at gunpoint. That’s always a relief, Brody finds. It’s funny how often he’s found himself around guns since joining Baywatch. He never would have believed it if someone had told him it would happen, but then, no one would believe it until you actually met Mitch, and then all the things that really make no sense suddenly make perfect sense. Because of Mitch logic.
As a side result, there is one more piece of good news. The fact that Deran’s outside means that Brody gets to talk to Mitch. Sure, technically, there was nothing stopping him before, except that he’d been fairly certain that the more he talked, the more likely it was that Deran would shoot him in the head and be done with it. Mitch may find him just as annoying as Deran, but he has confidence by this point in their friendship that Mitch isn’t going to kill.
Like, not really.
“Shit,” Brody says in a hushed whisper to Mitch. “What the hell is this?”
His heart is pounding now, palms sweating as he finally allows himself the panic he deserved about 10 minutes ago when they left the shoreline. The surreal nature of these events have left Brody reeling, and now that he has time to process what’s actually going on, all he can come up with is shit.
Mitch, however, is studiously at the controls, entering in navigational changes as the boat shifts direction to catch a tailwind.
Actually, Brody has no idea what he’s doing. He knows they’re changing direction and Mitch talks about tailwinds when they’re in boats but whatever, it doesn’t matter.
All Mitch has to say in response is: “This is a strange location for sightseeing. There’s some fishing traffic in this area, but beyond whale watching, I’m just not sure.”
Brody makes a face, looking at the unmoving light of the GPS tracker. “Not sure of what?”
“What anyone would be doing out this far recreationally,” Mitch says. “Adrian’s a surfer.”
“Yeah, you see, I don’t know Adrian,” Brody reminds him. “He’s just some dude who got me shot and now got me kidnapped so I’m not sure I’m super into speculation right now.”
Mitch sighs, a little exasperated and a lot patient. “But we’re here, we’re doing this rescue,” he says, and he taps at the screen. “And this just doesn’t make sense. Why stop here?”
Brody studies the light again, this time trying to actually think about the vague notions that Mitch is positing. “Well, I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe he had a late night. He could still be sleeping.”
“You heard what Deran said,” Mitch says.
Brody shrugs one shoulder. The morning wake up call thing had sounded romantic, but after a year in a relationship, he knows that things don’t always play out that way forever. “So he forgot,” he says. “He’s got to be sleeping or he’s…”
He finds that he can’t quite finish the thought.
He’s seen dead people before and it still makes him want to hurl a little. He hates to lose anyone on the beach -- his competitive nature still exist in some ways -- and he always takes it personally no matter how many times Mitch lectures him not to.
But that’s not the problem.
The problem is that if this Adrian guy isn’t sleeping, then he’s probably dead, and it doesn’t much matter how Brody takes that news.
What matters is how Deran takes that news.
Deran is the guy who kidnapped two lifeguards at gunpoint when his boyfriend disappeared. When he thought Adrian was missing, he’d threatened to kill. If Adrian really is dead…
Well, that’s less than ideal for all parties involved.
Brody swallows. Hard.
Mitch tweaks a few more of the controls. Brody looks out the window where Deran is scanning the horizon with an intensity. Brody lowers his voice even more, leaning closer to Mitch. “Do you think he’s come to the same conclusion?”
“That Adrian’s probably already dead?” Mitch asks, not bothering to whisper. Brody flinches despite himself, but Deran is too far away to hear. Brody still thinks Mitch’s attitude is a lot more cavalier than it should be. The bigger man shrugs. “Denial is a pretty strong emotion. It makes you do crazy things.”
“Like kidnap lifeguards?” Brody hisses. He tries to swallow back the lump in his throat, but it doesn’t work. “Or kill them when he doesn’t get what he wants?”
Mitch is still completely unbothered. “I doubt he’s thought it through that far.”
“Well, I have,” Brody says, pursing his lips. “And the thought of getting a bullet through the brain is not one I particularly like.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that,” Mitch says. “And if it does, we’ll take action.”
Brody snorts, more than a little incredulous. “I’m not sure that’s as encouraging as you think it is.”
“Look,” Mitch says, making another minor course correction and upping their speed. “We have to go based on our experience. I don’t think this guy bluffs, but he came to use for help.”
Brody narrows his gaze, feeling a little indignant. “He kidnapped us!”
“Yeah, a strong, clearly well connected guy took it upon himself to kidnap two unarmed lifeguards,” Mitch says. “It says a lot about his emotional state right now.”
Brody shrugs, inclining his head toward Mitch. “Still not seeing how that does us any good.”
“The last time I saw him, he was just this emotional, and he came in big, making threats,” Mitch says.
Brody can only stare at him, wondering why in the time since the first incident Mitch had truly told him none of this. If someone had threatened him after a save, Brody would be telling everyone. For example, he’s already thought about how he’s going to tell this story to Summer and then how he’ll tell it to Ronnie and to everyone on the beach.
Assuming he lives.
Shit, he hates that that feels like a big assumption right now.
“And in the end, when you got to the heart with this guy, he was very reasonable,” Mitch says.
“Sure, last time, when this Adrian guy was alive and well and I was the one in surgery,” Brody says, keeping his gaze alternating between Mitch, who was monitoring their water, and Deran, who looked like he was ready to murder the water on principle alone. “We have no context for how this guy deals with not getting what he wants.”
Mitch sighs a little, as if to concede the point. He has to concede the point. Brody wants to feel mollified by that, but the point means that they’re in a lot of danger right now so it’s kind of a shitty point to be right about. Figures. Brody’s always right about the wrong things.
Ultimately, Mitch shrugs. “You know as well as I do that it’s the right thing to do,” he says. He looks at Brody plainly. “Saving people is our job, no matter what.”
Incredulity deepening, Brody makes a face at Mitch. “That’s, like, the opposite of what you told me last time.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is!”
“Dude, it’s not.”
“You were all pissed off that I did the job without thinking about my well being,” Brody protests.
Mitch has to close his mouth. He shrugs again. “Well, this time, he abducted us at gunpoint,” he says. “So I guess that changes things.”
Brody stares at him, wishing that there was more.
There’s not of course.
They have been abducted at gunpoint.
That does kind of change everything.
-o-
Except it doesn’t change almost anything.
Like, sure, it’s stressful and Brody’s got this awful visions of no one coming to his funeral or being eulogized as the Vomit Comet, but other than that, it’s a rescue. It’s a little far out and they’re working mostly blind, but it’s a rescue.
Brody has done a bunch of rescues in the last year of his life.
In Mitch’s career? He’s done even more.
So they know how to find a remote location via GPS. They know how to navigate on the boat. They know how to mentally prep themselves for any conditions. They know how to focus, how to react, how to maximize the victim’s chance of survival. This is what their training is all about. This is why Baywatch is the best of the best.
Because when they’re being held at gunpoint.
They can still do their job.
Even when Brody really wants to hurl the farther and farther they get from shore. Dying would suck right now. Dying would really, really suck.
Mitch says nothing when he eases back on the engine, and they’re slowing down substantially when Deran shouts out from the deck. “I see it! I see the boat!”
Brody looks up, tracing his eyeline to Deran’s call. Deran is pressed against the edge of the boat, eyes fixed on the horizon to the port side. His face is inscrutable, so tight with terror and hope that all expression has almost drained from it.
Mitch turns the boat, navigating by sight now as he moves them forward, cutting through the water toward their rescue. Brody cranes his neck, finally getting a glimpse of the other boat they’ve been tracking.
He’s not sure what he expected. A steady GPS signal had indicated that nothing was amiss, but Deran’s strong reaction had suggested disaster. The lonely vessel does seem fully intact, but there’s something ominous about it position, the way it sits out there like nothing in the world is wrong when something has to be wrong.
Brody’s sense of foreboding only intensifies as they close in, and by the time Mitch brings them to a stop, he wants to get the hell out of there. There’s no sign of distress; there’s no sign of life, actually. There doesn’t seem to be anyone there.
“Adrian!” Deran is yelling now. He turns back to Mitch. “Get us closer!”
Mitch complies, nodding at Brody. “Find some gear, anything you can come up with.”
Brody’s stomach flips. “Mitch, this is a bad idea--”
“Closer!” Deran yells, and he’s practically ready to jump over the side now. “Closer!”
Brody’s breath catches. He’s charged into a lot of situation, a lot more overtly dangerous than this. Shit, with Leeds, he’d walked right up and put his head on the gun. Even the last rescue with this Adrian guy, Brody hadn’t waited for backup, hadn’t stopped when the trigger was pulled.
But there’s something about this.
Something about all of this.
Brody knows when shit is going down because his whole life has been a series of disasters. He always knew when he was getting booted from a foster home. He always knew when he was going to lose a race. He always knew when things were about to get worse if only because it happened all the time.
Shit is going down right now.
He’s just not sure what kind of shit.
And he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to find out.
Shaking his head, he leans toward Mitch. “Mitch, I mean it--”
The two boats are so close now, they’re almost touching. Mitch kills the engine. “We’re already here,” he says, and he sounds grave and resolved. That’s a terrible combination, it really is. Especially when it’s coming from a guy like Mitch Buchannon, who is never wrong and who never backs down even when he should. “It’s done.”
But that’s the other truth that Brody knows. He always knows when things are going to get worse and it never stops him. Sure, he knew he was going to hurl when he raced in Rio, but he still got in the pool. And okay, so it was obvious that no foster family was going to want him, but he still tried to make them want him every damn time. It’s not that disaster is foreboding. It’s that it’s inevitable.
Mitch says it’s done as he reaches for the gear Brody’s numb hands can’t reach for.
Brody, though.
Brody knows it’s really just begun.
-o-
Brody follows.
Really, that’s how it goes at Baywatch. He’s just following orders. Then he’s following a someone’s lead. Now he’s following an example.
Now he’s doing all of them, literally following in Mitch’s footsteps as he is drawn unwillingly willing to the other boat. There’s no one in the water that they can see, which makes the notion of bringing a lifeguard seem ridiculous, but it’s probably not the best time to point that out to Deran.
Deran, for his part, almost seems to have forgotten that he dragged two lifeguards with him in the first place. He’s the first one to board, and he’s fully swept the main deck before Brody can even get his feet beneath him again.
“Adrian!” Deran calls out, yelling it like a demand. You can only hear the desperation when it echoes back at them across the vast and vacant waves.
Holding his breath, Brody glances at Mitch. Mitch is taut and ready, which is how he always is when there’s a call. But there’s a glint in his eyes, an edge to his disposition. It’s possible that Brody’s not imagining the way he seems to stand in front of Brody, body poised between him and Deran. It reminds Brody of the night they went after Leeds on the firework barge.
The night Mitch had gotten himself shot and poisoned while Brody had walked into a gun and been taken hostage.
So, yeah, not a good comparison to make himself feel better or anything.
None of this is made better by the fact that Deran’s already poor composure is rapidly falling to pieces. This happens to people, all sorts of people. You can be smart and strong and capable and brilliant and talented, and you might still lose your shit under pressure. Some people just aren’t wired that way, and Brody’s learned not to judge people for it. It’s called compassion, and it’s one of the harder things Mitch has taught Brody, but he’s really starting to get the hang of it, honestly.
Not with Deran, however. Maybe, in the abstract, he could feel sorry for the guy whose significant other is clearly in some kind of weird peril for the second time in less than a year. And, okay, a significant other for a guy whose mother is a crime lord, that probably means a lot, almost as much as it means to a perpetual foster kid with separation issues and massive self destructive tendencies.
But there’s the concrete reality to this.
Deran’s not just some sympathetic guy with mommy issues who is worried about his boyfriend.
He’s also the guy who has the gun.
And who owns the boats that dragged Brody and Mitch miles and miles from shore. Getting shot out here -- no one would hear it. Being dropped in the water while bleeding -- well, shit. No one would find the body.
Mitch has taught Brody a lot, but he still has some shred of common sense.
Sometimes.
Honestly, it’s a little inconsistent, but it’s in full force right now.
Brody is contemplating jumping back on the other boat and driving it far, far away while Deran is preoccupied, but when he looks at Mitch to convey this plan to him, he finds Mitch focused on the rescue.
Bastard. Only Mitch could do his job under this kind of duress. Brody knows he’s the one who saved Adrian in the first place, but that’d been straightforward protocol and whatever. This isn’t normal, and Brody’s having a hard time making it parse because it’s hard to rescue a victim when he feels like he’s the one who has been victimized this time around.
“I think we need to slow down, be thorough,” Mitch says in that way of his. He is calm and disarming and most of the time it works.
But Deran isn’t even listening. Frantically, he kicks over deck chairs like Deran someone is hiding behind them, and he balls up a tarp and literally throws it overboard in his frustration. When he comes up empty handed, he charges past Mitch and Brody to the cabin.
Mitch tries again, following a few steps after Deran. Brody follows a few steps after him out of instinct. “Proper search protocol dictates--”
Deran doesn’t care about proper protocol, and he may have thought he needed lifeguards but right now he doesn’t seem to know they’re even there. This could be the chance they need, their chance to get away.
“Deran--” Mitch says.
Deran’s hand is on the door, and he pushes it open with some force. “Adrian! Adrian--”
Deran’s voice dies, caught almost strangled in his throat. He stops short and sudden, and Mitch comes to an abrupt halt behind him so that Brody almost crashes into him from behind. Brody is about to protest, but the words are sucked from his own chest, consumed by the tension that is suddenly suffocating.
The adrenaline has reached its peak.
Brody’s breathing catches, and his heart seems to stop pounding as he steps to the side, just enough to look around Mitch’s large frame. It’s hard to see around Mitch and Deran in front of him, but Brody catches a glimpse of the scene.
The cabin is in disarray. Items are tumbled over on one another and the air smells stale. There’s a smear of something red on the floor, and Brody wills himself not to know what it is. He follows his eyes along the floor to the far wall where he sees a figure.
A familiar figure.
Brody barely remembers the guy he rescued at gunpoint five miles out from the pier. He’d suffered from blood loss and shock and been in surgery and shit. He probably wouldn’t have been able to pick Adrian out of a lineup nine times out of ten, not unless he was beaten, bloodied and terrified.
Funny enough, that’s exactly what he looks like now. Brody can’t make out much of what his features should look like with so much blood smeared over the top of his freckled skin, but his blue eyes look exactly like Brody could remember.
Scared.
Desperate.
This is a rescue, all right.
Just not the kind Brody had been prepared for at all.
-o-
It seems like forever that they stand there, frozen. Seriously, forever, while Deran stands there, staring at Adrian like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Ultimately, it’s Mitch who moves first, stepping around Deran and making quick progress to Adrian. One his knees, he starts by working at the ropes on Adrian’s wrists, but the other man shakes his head, making frantic noises that are muffled by the gag in his mouth.
This is when Deran moves. He crosses over after Mitch with even more purpose. Deran is working at the knot in the gag when Brody starts to put things together.
Deduction and solving cases, that’s Mitch’s shit. Brody’s always a little slow on the uptake and that’s fine and all, but he’s also the only one who is thinking about this as a case with more than one victim. For once, his selfish side is an asset, and he knows that if Adrian is beaten and bloodied, then that’s one thing.
But if he’s bound and gagged?
Well, shit.
That’s because he’s not alone.
Whoever did this to him.
They’re still here.
Brody opens his mouth to suggest they take some kind of precaution, but Mitch is being a lifeguard and Deran is being an anxious boyfriend and the second the gag is free, Adrian says, “They’re still here!”
From the door on the back of the cabin, Brody sees the movement but he’s a lifeguard, okay. He’s not armed. He has zero combat experience. When two large dudes come out toting guns, there’s nothing he can do except raise his hands.
Because, as a lifeguard, Brody knows how to be a hero?
In a hostage situation? He’s only ever been the victim.
The men herd Brody toward the others until he’s on his knees with his hands on his head. Mitch reluctantly follows suit while Adrian chokes on a sob and Deran glares hard.
Hero or victim: He knows which one he prefers.
Too bad no gives a shit what Brody thinks right now.
-o-
The good news is that they found Adrian. They found him alive.
The bad news is that they also found some bad guys. And that being alive could be a temporary situation.
For all of them.
He tries to find some solace in the fact that Deran probably isn’t going to kill him anymore.
As these new guys pat Deran down and take his gun, Brody concedes the fact that these guys probably will.
They pat Brody down as well, and then they take the time to tie his wrists together in front of him, which is silly since he’s in a swimsuit and he’s a lifeguard for goodness sake, but that doesn’t seem to matter to them. In fact, Brody doesn’t seem to be of concern at all, and he’s shoved back down against the far wall of the cabin next to Adrian.
This Adrian guy, up close and in the flesh, is a surprising source of so much turmoil. Underneath the blood, he looks like an average sort of guy. He has blonde hair that has been bleached by the sun, and his complexion is fair even with a tan. He’s got the build of a surfer, and Brody wonders if he’s seen the dude, catches waves out in the surf.
Which is to say, he looks normal.
Nothing about this guy suggests that he should be dealing drugs.
Or, you know, dating in a family of crime lords.
Of course, with the bloodied face, he looks the part a little more. He’s worse off than the last time Brody saw him. The beating has gone on longer this time, and it seems to be less about extraction and more about, well, pain. His nose looks broken, his lip split. His left eye is swollen shut and there’s blood everywhere. He’s sitting funny, like he’s got something broken or bruised badly somewhere.
Last time he’d seen this guy, the bad guys had been trying to kill him, quick and simple. This isn’t quick or simple. This is long and drawn out. Brody doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling he probably doesn’t want to know.
He also has the feeling that he’s probably going to find out a lot sooner than he wants.
And possibly a lot more demonstrably.
Mitch is the last one they pat down, and while Brody’s search had been cursory, they seem to put a little more effort into Mitch’s. Brody’s got a lot of muscle mass, but he’s short. He’s not imposing, and he probably looks so scared that there’s nothing intimidating about him.
Mitch, on the other hand, is built like a giant. He’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, but he can be scary as hell when he wants to be.
He wants to be now.
He stares down his nose at the assailants, standing stiff so that his muscles were rock hard as they patted him down. He made no overt sign of aggression; he didn’t have to. They pat him down twice, just to be sure, then prod him with a gun until he takes a seat on the other side of Adrian. As a last measure, they tie Mitch’s hands together as well, and Mitch simply raises a skeptical eyebrow when they need to use more rope than anticipated to fit around his massive wrists.
Brody finds this whole situation disconcerting, because it’s bad enough being kidnapped by people who want you to help them. It’s, like, a whole different thing when you’re kidnapped by people who don’t seem to want anything from you. It’s a little bit of comfort to know that these guys haven’t up and shot him already, but honestly, that seems like the dimmest silver lining basically ever.
Still, Brody will take it.
For all that he may or may not have in common with this Adrian guy, it’s pretty clear he feels the same. Mitch is hulking and mad but he’s got sense for now to keep his mouth shut.
Deran, on the other hand, not so much.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” he seethes, visibly straining against his bounds. His face is red and he looks furious. He’s practically spitting when he speaks. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
The men, who are dressed in similar black clothing so that it looks like a damn crime movie cliche, exchange a bemused look. “We know who are you.”
Deran does not seem to like that answer. To be fair, Brody is pretty sure Deran wouldn’t like any answer right now. “Then you should be a whole lot more scared than you are right now,” he says. “I swear to God, you’re dead. You’re dead.”
Brody has to think that threatening people with death is not the way to go here. He’s got limited experience in this, sure, but he has some common sense. Like, maybe Deran’s family connections do yield them some negotiating power. But that means you have to negotiate. There have to be terms. Like, incentives or shit. You can’t tell people you’re going to kill them and expect that to make them not want to kill you.
That’s, you know, logic. Or whatever.
Deran is kind of past logic. Or maybe this is just criminal logic. Or my-boyfriend’s-been-kidnapped logic.
Thrashing, Deran kicks his legs. “I’m going to kill you myself, assholes.”
One of the men reaches for a gun but the other holds up a hand to stop him. From the ground next to Brody, Adrian whimpers. “Deran, don’t--”
Deran isn’t listening, though. All this time and energy and criminal activity to find Adrian, and Deran isn’t hearing a word he says. “You’re idiots, you know,” he continues aggressively. His eyes are gleaming with rage now. “You’re not just idiots. You’re cowards. We’ll leave your bodies in the ocean and no one will find them so there’s nothing to bury, nothing to eulogize, because assholes like you don’t deserve that shit. You shit-faced--”
The first guy reaches for his gun again, looking more agitated than before. This time, the second guy seems to let him, and the dude is on his feet, sweeping the gun across the four hostages as Deran continues to rage.
Brody flinches, closing his eyes and preparing for the worst. He can feel Mitch tense, but it’s Adrian who finally manages to intervene.
“Deran,” Adrian says again, his voice finding more strength this time even as it cracks. “Please.”
The inflection in that word, the utter desperation. It makes Brody’s heart stop cold in his chest.
Or maybe that’s just the gun that’s being waved around in his general proximity.
But the intonation does have the desired effect on Deran, whose invectives fall silent as he looks across Mitch toward Adrian. Brody sees his face from the other end of the line, watches as he looks at Adrian and finally sees him.
He finally remembers why he came.
He remembers.
Closing his mouth, Deran draws a breath.
With heavy breaths, Adrian continues. “This is the last thing I wanted,” he says. “I didn’t want you to come, not like this.”
Deran’s jaw twitches, and he shakes his head. “Of course I was going to come.”
Adrian swallows with some obvious effort. His entire body seems to shake with the effort. “Then enough with the threats,” he says. “Because you came for me. You came for me.”
Deran’s eyes seem to fill with tears for a moment.
Just for a moment.
Then he blinks hard.
Adrian shudders as he exhales. “And you know who’s coming for you.”
Of all things, that works.
To be clear, Brody is glad it works. Deran seems dead set on getting them all killed right about now, but Brody has no idea why it works. Because they’re at sea. Like, way at sea. Being held hostage. By some really not good people who clearly like to do really not good things if the state of Adrian’s face tells them anything. So who could possibly be coming for them?
The look on Deran’s face is hardly reassuring. He draws his lips until they’re pursed and he finally, slowly nods his head. “Yeah,” he says, turning his cold gaze back up at the bad guys. He’s full of resolve now, the calmness in him deadlier than before. “I got a pretty good idea who’s coming for me.”
The man with the gun smiles as he lowers his weapon. “Good,” he says. “Then I’m sure you’ll be more than happy to cooperate with a little message we have to send.”
Deran doesn’t look happy but he doesn’t resist as the man grabs him by a bound arm and lifts him to his feet.
They move off toward a back room off the cabin, leaving the other man watching over the three remaining hostages with cool indifference. “We can relax for now,” he says, and he sounds awfully conversational about it as his face widens into a smile. “We have a few more people who need to join the party.”
There’s no threat; there’s no move to violence. But next to him, Adrian closes his eyes with a half-muffled sob.
Somehow, Brody can’t tell if whoever shows up next will be a Godsend.
Or a death note.
Brody flexes his fingers and looks across Adrian toward Mitch. Mitch meets his gaze somberly. He doesn’t know either.
Shit, Brody thinks, swallowing hard as he looks forward again.
There’s probably no choice but to find out.
-o-
Brody doesn’t like to think that he’ll ever get used to being in peril, but he has to admit, he kind of gets used to it. Like, you have to. That fight or flight response, that surge of adrenaline that allows him to get shit done -- or fold completely -- under pressure, it only lasts so long. It takes a few minutes -- but really, only a few minutes -- for his heart rate to start to slow and for his breathing to slowly but surely return to normal.
Sure, Brody still thinks he’s going to die and he’s still scared pretty much shitless, but that’s really that. The dude watching them doesn’t seem overly keen on his job, and he makes no overt signs of aggression. Deran and the other guy have been gone for awhile now, and Brody is...well. Kind of bored?
Now, that’s not the normal response. Hostage situations aren’t boring. They’re just not.
It’s just that there’s nothing to do.
Brody just has to sit there.
And sit some more.
It involves a lot of sitting.
Shit, Brody squirms, trying not to be too obvious. He’d been diagnosed with, like, three learning disabilities as a kid and one of them was ADHD or ADD or something. He’d been on some medication for a bit, but he’d changed foster homes and it just didn’t work out and it didn’t really matter if Brody sat still or moved around, he was still an idiot.
There are moments, however, when having an attention span might be kind of nice.
As it turns out, a hostage situation?
It’s actually one of those moments.
He pulls at the ropes on his wrists and wriggles in his place. Next to him, Adrian doesn’t seem to move. Brody has to fidget a few more times before he catches Mitch staring at him. The look isn’t quite disapproval, but his expression is guarded. He’s thinking about something, and he’s thinking about how Brody fits into that something.
From Brody’s experience -- and he’s got a lot of it this past year -- that means Mitch is coming up with a plan. Probably a crazy, stupid plan that involves a lot of danger.
A plan that involves Brody.
A plan that involves Brody being in lots of danger.
There was a time when that bothered Brody. He’s mostly past that now, given his own propensity to head full on into danger. It’s still this thing between them, though. See, one of them has to be the responsible one. If one of them is going to be foolhardy and moronic, the other has to be the voice of reason and save the day. It’s been that way since Mitch got fired for tracking Leeds and Brody filled in for him. They’re, like, counterbalances or something. Yin and yang.
Which means, if Mitch has a plan.
Then Brody necessarily has to object to it.
He shakes his head, even though he doesn’t know specifically what he’s objecting to.
Mitch nods his head in return, insisting upon his still unknown.
Brody jerks his head toward the dude, who seems to be picking at his nails.
Mitch bobs his head toward Adrian and raises his eyebrows.
Brody huffs, but he looks at Adrian. His eyes are closed, which only serves to make him look worse. Given how bad he looked before, he kind of looks dead now. He’s breathing, though -- Brody can hear him -- and it’s pretty clear that he’s not had a good night at all.
Mitch’s meaning is clear: Adrian is the victim.
Sure, Brody’s been kidnapped twice today, but Adrian’s the victim. There’s a reason Brody took a call without backup five miles out several months ago. There’s a reason he willingly risked getting shot to make the save. There’s a reason.
Because Adrian’s the victim.
Brody frowns, looking at Mitch again. He shrugs his shoulders, face scrunched up with uncertainty. He’ll concede the point that Adrian is a priority right now given his condition, but that still doesn’t give them any viable means of actual rescue. They’re bound. They’re being watched by a guy who clearly doesn’t have any problem hurting people.
Mitch nods his understanding.
Which really is something because Brody has no idea what he understands. This does not appear to bother Mitch. It never bothers Mitch, probably because it happens so often. This is due to the fact that Mitch has a lot of horrible plans. It also has something to do with the fact that Brody is not very good at plans. Or, you know, logic.
Clearing his throat, Mitch looks away from Brody. Eyes widening, Brody shakes his head in horror as he realizes what Mitch is about to do. Mitch is going to talk to the guy; he’s going to start up a conversation. Mitch clearly thinks it’s the best way to secure any kind of privileges, maybe to make them more likeable. Whatever it may be, it also means that they have to get this guy’s attention.
From his experience, which is more than it should be for a lifeguard, having the undivided attention of a bad guy with a gun is very, very bad. The last time it happened, Brody nearly bled out in the ocean. The time before, Brody nearly got his head blown off. He does not want any of those things to happen again.
“So,” Mitch says before Brody can find some other way to stop him. “I have a question.”
The guy looks over to them and Brody stiffles a groan. He sinks back dejectedly, watching in resignation as the exchange plays out.
“How long exactly are we going to sit here?” Mitch asks. He’s doing a careful job of keeping his voice regulated at least. Before, he’d been exuding aggression. Now, he’s playing for diplomacy. Only a guy like Mitch can make himself utterly nonthreatening when he has the muscle mass and sheer skill to rip most people in half.
Of course, the dude has a gun, so Brody agrees that playing it nice is the best play if talking is on the table.
It shouldn’t be, for the record. No one asked Brody, though. Or, if Mitch did ask Brody with raised eyebrows and shrugs, then Brody had no idea what he was agreeing to, which seems to be kind of the way things go for him on Baywatch.
“Depends,” the guy says. “But we have good leverage. I don’t think it’ll be much more than a few hours. If we’re still here tomorrow morning, then something’s gone wrong.”
Brody wonders if the guy realizes the possible implications of his statement. It’s likely that here refers to this specific location on the boat. But Brody can’t help but wonder if here also refers to his position on this planet while still breathing.
Mitch does not seem to be suffering from the same, crippling fear. “I assume you wanted this guy alive?” he asks, and he nods toward Adrian who has snuffled in his sleep.
The guy narrows his eyes, flicking between Mitch and Adrian with his gaze. “Those were my instructions, yes.”
Mitch nods, as if this is completely reasonable and not completely crazy. “Well, you may want to give him another look,” he says, and he gives the guy a sympathetic smile. “He’s not looking so good.”
The guy looks over at Adrian again, this time with a hint of concern in his expression. “What’s wrong with him?”
Mitch shrugs. “I’m not a doctor, so I can’t be sure,” he says. “But I do have extensive first aid training. His breathing’s just not right. Could be a few bruised ribs, but if they’re broken…” He lets that trail off, letting the implication stand dramatically.
The guy is standing up a little straighter now. “I told James to go easier,” he says. “But no, he feels restless. He wants to make a point.”
“And you’ll both be responsible, huh,” Mitch says. “That’s tough.”
The guy has taken several steps closer to them now. Brody finds himself holding his breath. His heart starts to pound. At least he can’t say it’s boring anymore, but he’s not sure that’s a good thing. “You really think he’s not doing well?”
That’s a ridiculous question, so stupid that even Brody can see it. They’ve beaten Adrian badly, and he’s only conscious some of the time. Although, it probably says something about this guy that Adrian’s condition hasn’t warranted immediate concern. Chances are, the guy has seen worse.
Chances are, this guy has done worse.
Mitch’s expression is pitying now. “I’d have to look him over to be sure.”
“You can do that?” the guy asks, sounding a little hopeful now. “You can give him a once-over?”
“Sure,” Mitch says, like this hasn’t been his idea all along. Brody still thinks it’s a little reckless to engage this guy -- any conversation can turn in a heartbeat, Brody knows from experience -- but Mitch is good. He’s gotten the guy to do what he wants while making him think it’s his idea. Of course, it’d be better if he could talk the guy into letting them go, but first things first. “But I’d need permission to move around a little.”
“Yeah, sure,” the guy says readily. “I mean, you have to stay bound, you understand.”
“Sure, yeah, of course,” Mitch says. “But if you let me, my partner and I will give him a look.”
Brody stiffens at the reference. For the first time all conversation, the guy looks directly at Brody.
He swallows meagerly and tries not to shit his pants.
“Yeah, do it,” he says. “I mean, no funny shit, right?”
“Nothing funny,” Mitch pledges. “I’d just hate to see this guy die right now. Wouldn’t you?”
It’s non-aggressive, humble, easy and friendly. There’s no way it should work.
But the guy eases back, settling back down on his perch with a bare but genuine smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Sure would.”
Well, shit, is all Brody can think.
It worked.
All the crap that’s gone wrong today, and that one worked.
-o-
Brody feels good about things for about two seconds.
Then he actually has to help Mitch look at Adrian.
And that’s horrible.
Brody’s got first aid training and he’s seen some crazy shit on the beach, he really has. But when injuries are really bad, he usually just calls 911 and that’s that. He’s dealt with nosebleeds, skinned knees and once he dealt with a scissors incident gone awry. He’s still the guy who screamed like a girl when a bloody foot landed on his head, though. Because he’s a swimmer, not a doctor. He’s a lifeguard, not a medic.
And this Adrian guy -- he looks well beyond anything Brody can treat.
He almost looks beyond treating at all.
Mitch doesn’t seem bothered by that.
Because Mitch isn’t bothered by anything, the bastard.
“Hey, Adrian,” Mitch says, and he keeps his voice low. Brody isn’t sure if this is to avoid aggravating the good graces of their keeper or if, like, he wants to somehow keep this on the down low. With his bound hands, he jostles Adrian gently on the arm. “Are you okay?”
It’s the kind of question a lifeguard asks, okay. Brody’s asked it a hundred different times in situations that are pretty obvious, too. All the same, this strikes Brody as incredibly funny. Adrian’s been kidnapped and beaten -- and this isn’t the first time he’s been in this position. His face is bloody and swollen and Mitch is all are you okay?
Nobody in this situation is okay, least of all this Adrian guy.
It’s funny, but Brody can’t quite bring himself to laugh. At least, not without crying at the same time, and he’s pretty sure laughing is inappropriate and crying would just be really embarrassing. And distraction.
What is he supposed to be doing again?
Mitch, fortunately, isn’t paying attention to the fact that Brody’s completely not paying attention. Instead, he’s got his hands on Adrian’s face, trying to bring him back around.
“Adrian, I need you to wake up for me,” he says, and though his voice is still quiet, he’s got a note of command in his voice now. “Just open your eyes.”
Adrian, for all that he seems to get into trouble, actually obeys the command. Brody should be willing to cut him some slack in this regard. He knows what it’s like to have really bad luck even when you want to do the right thing and whatever. Some people are just born unlucky, and they start making shitty choices because shitty choices don’t make things any better or any worse than good ones. Brody gets that. He’s lived it.
It’s annoying as hell, though, to see it in other people. It’s a wonder that Mitch has put up with him and his propensity to self implode for this long.
As Adrian rouses, Brody finds that his own lifeguard instincts start to kick in. Just a little.
Probably just enough.
He inches closer to Adrian. His hands aren’t free either, but he leans into the other man to help prop him a little more upright as he starts to come to. Some people -- people like Mitch and CJ and Summer and Ronnie -- they do this shit because it’s what good people just naturally do. Other people -- people like Brody -- have to learn it. He’s kind of proud, in all honesty, that it’s only taken a year for this to become second nature for him. A year ago, he’d been a smart-ass, dried-out Olympian on community service. Today, he can actually pass for a hero.
Most of the time.
This could be one of those times.
Or this could be one of those times he nearly dies and is pathetic.
He’s also apparently pretty good at that.
“That’s a boy,” Mitch cajoles, and he’s smiling like he’s really happy by the time Adrian’s blue eyes flutter open. It takes several more moments before his eyes actually focus, and Brody watches for several more seconds while the dude tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Mitch continues grinning anyway. “See, not so hard.”
It actually seems quite hard, but that’s not a necessary commentary. Brody bites his tongue while Adrian swallows with a wince. Every breath seems to be increasingly painful for him, and his whole body trembles as he gathers enough strength to speak. “Deran?”
“I think he’s in the back, recording a message,” Mitch says, because he always believes in telling the truth but he’s somehow super good at telling the truth in a way that people don’t find overwhelming. “Shouldn’t be too long.”
This time, however, the reassurance doesn’t work. Adrian sits up, the halting movements looking so painful that Brody all but wedges himself behind him to make sure he doesn’t slip back down. “No, that’s not -- he can’t--”
Mitch shakes his head. “It’s done now, okay? It’s done. We’re all here; we’re all alive; and that’s done.”
Adrian seems only more agitated. “He shouldn’t have come, that’s what they wanted,” he says. Weak as he is, his voice is starting to pitch. Brody glances anxiously over at the dude with the gun, who seems to be watching them more closely now. “That’s their plan.”
“You know these guys?” Mitch asks.
Adrian looks at him, blinking rapidly a few times while Mitch clearly tracks his eyes movements for signs of concussion. In the disorientation, Adrian’s not given any of this a second thought. He seems aware of himself now; aware that he’s not alone and that privacy isn’t a thing. “Maybe,” he says, and the word is shaky when he says it.
Not for a lack of certainty, Brody can surmise.
But for a lack of safety.
Brody swallows and tries not to look at the guy, who is staring them down hard now.
Mitch clears his throat with a diffusing smile. “How’s your head feel?”
“Bad,” Adrian says. “Worse concussion of my life.”
Mitch probes the bruises on his face, prodding at the swollen eye gently. “Can you still see?”
Adrian tries to pull his head back, but there’s nowhere to go. “Just bruised there,” he says. Mitch has moved on to his nose and Adrian hisses. “That’s broken, though.”
Mitch nods with a sympathetic wince. “Anything else?”
“Ribs,” Adrian says, inhaling sharply as Mitch runs his hands down his chest. He cries out a little, choking on sobs that he doesn’t have the energy to indulge. “Ugh, lots of ribs.”
Mitch isn’t smiling when he pulls his hand away. Over Adrian’s shoulder, he meets Brody’s eye. It’s a split second between them, but it’s enough.
Shit, it’s more than enough.
Brody has trained under Mitch. He’s modeled himself after the guy. Everything he knows, everything he is, is Mitch. Hell, he even lives with him. There’s nothing about Brody that Mitch hasn’t shaped to his particular beliefs. It means that for all that Mitch is insufferable, Brody’s just as bad. Given a given situation, Brody knows exactly what Mitch would do.
Now, this is partly because it’s not the thing that a normal person would do, but whatever.
Brody knows.
He knows what Mitch is trying to tell him.
Adrian’s not doing that great. The ribs are a thing they have to worry about, and it’s possible that it’s worse than that. Like, internal bleeding kind of worse. If they were back near shore, they’d be loading Adrian up on an ambulance where he could get emergency surgery and that would be that.
It’s not so simple out here.
On a boat.
With bad guys taking them hostage.
This is the opposite of simple.
Brody finds himself holding his breath as Mitch looks back at Adrian. “Anything else you want to tell me?” he asks. He doesn’t look over his shoulder. He doesn’t have to. “Anything?”
Adrian does it for him. He shudders a little -- Brody can feel it against his skin -- and he shakes his head. “That’s it for injury,” he says. “They were going for dramatic. They weren’t trying to kill me.”
He says it quietly, but the guy over there can hear them. It’s not clear if this answer is intended to piss the guy off or ingratiate him. By the cold look on the guy’s face, it’s clear that he’s not sure how to take it either. No doubt he’s made some peace with the fact that he’s a goon who beats people up, but Brody knows from experience that even people who accept that they’re an asshole don’t always like being an asshole.
Mitch smiles because that’s all he really can do at this point. For Adrian’s sake. For the guy with the gun. For Brody, even. “Kind of funny that we’re here again,” he says, like they’ve happened to meet in the supermarket instead of a hostage situation. “I thought we’d been pretty clear in our last conversation.”
Adrian sighs, a long, exhausting process that almost leaves him spent. “You can’t hold hospital conversations against people, man,” he says between wheezing breaths. “It’s not cool.”
“Those are the moments when you know what matters, though,” Mitch says. “I thought we were on the same page.”
Sagging back against Brody, Adrian doesn’t seem too put out by the fact that he can’t even hold himself up at this point. He hasn’t acknowledged Brody’s presence; he probably doesn’t have to. “You’re not even supposed to be here,” he moans, closing his eyes for a moment. “Why are you even here?”
“Hey, not our choice,” Brody chimes in.
Adrian cracks his eyes open, craning his neck back to look at Brody almost for the first time. “Are you the--?”
“Lifeguard who got shot for you before?” Brody fills in. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
This seems disconcerting to Adrian. He looks at Mitch for some kind of explanation. “But…”
“Deran,” Mitch supplies for him. “He knew you were missing and he didn’t want to involve certain other parties.”
Adrian sinks back, miserable once more. “That’s why he shouldn’t have come,” he says. “This was never going to end well.”
“That’s what I told you,” Mitch says, and he’s being a bit heavy handed with this one, but Brody has to admit: the dude has a point. “I told you to watch for the consequences of your choices.”
Tiredly, Adrian shakes his head. “You told me to remember what matters.”
“Yeah, and that meant you were supposed to not be involved with crime,” Mitch says. “I thought that was implied.”
“But that’s not what matters,” Adrian argues. “The people. I had to pick the people. The person.”
The person who would kidnap two lifeguards to save your life.
Those kind of people.
Not the criminal ones, necessarily.
Just the ones who loved you.
Brody knows about this, okay. He knows what it is to need to be a part of a family. He knows how much he’d give up for it. Hell, that’s why he’s become Mitch’s right hand man despite all the insanity. That’s why he’ll charge into danger without backup. Because when you find that person, when you find those people, when you find that family, then none of the rest matters.
You pick the people who pick you.
Because that kind of mutuality is not easy to find.
“But you’re still dealing drugs?” Mitch asks, voice almost at a whisper now. “Really?”
Brody already knows Adrian’s answer. “Well, the people who matter just happen to be criminals,” he says. “There wasn’t another way.”
Mitch lets out a breath of his own and shakes his head. He’s got a lot of patience with idiots at least. Adrian will have to thank Brody later when they’re, you know, not held hostage. And not dead. “Honestly, I’m not totally sure you got the meaning of our last conversation.”
Adrian doesn’t have a comeback. There’s no logic or rationale or even a quip or a joke. There’s no apology. All Adrian says is, “I love him. I just. I love him.”
Brody’s own chest feels tight suddenly, and Mitch wets his lips. “And if it gets you both killed?” he asks.
“I love him,” Adrian says, because when you get down to it, it’s the only thing that matters. “I really love him.”
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
-o-
The good news is scant, but it’s still good, so Brody will take that for what it’s worth. He’s learned, in his ample experience with shitty situations, to aim really, really low. That’s the only way to be happy as a foster kid who bounced through the system like some kind of stupid pinball.
And the good news is this: with Deran outside, he’s not technically being held at gunpoint. That’s always a relief, Brody finds. It’s funny how often he’s found himself around guns since joining Baywatch. He never would have believed it if someone had told him it would happen, but then, no one would believe it until you actually met Mitch, and then all the things that really make no sense suddenly make perfect sense. Because of Mitch logic.
As a side result, there is one more piece of good news. The fact that Deran’s outside means that Brody gets to talk to Mitch. Sure, technically, there was nothing stopping him before, except that he’d been fairly certain that the more he talked, the more likely it was that Deran would shoot him in the head and be done with it. Mitch may find him just as annoying as Deran, but he has confidence by this point in their friendship that Mitch isn’t going to kill.
Like, not really.
“Shit,” Brody says in a hushed whisper to Mitch. “What the hell is this?”
His heart is pounding now, palms sweating as he finally allows himself the panic he deserved about 10 minutes ago when they left the shoreline. The surreal nature of these events have left Brody reeling, and now that he has time to process what’s actually going on, all he can come up with is shit.
Mitch, however, is studiously at the controls, entering in navigational changes as the boat shifts direction to catch a tailwind.
Actually, Brody has no idea what he’s doing. He knows they’re changing direction and Mitch talks about tailwinds when they’re in boats but whatever, it doesn’t matter.
All Mitch has to say in response is: “This is a strange location for sightseeing. There’s some fishing traffic in this area, but beyond whale watching, I’m just not sure.”
Brody makes a face, looking at the unmoving light of the GPS tracker. “Not sure of what?”
“What anyone would be doing out this far recreationally,” Mitch says. “Adrian’s a surfer.”
“Yeah, you see, I don’t know Adrian,” Brody reminds him. “He’s just some dude who got me shot and now got me kidnapped so I’m not sure I’m super into speculation right now.”
Mitch sighs, a little exasperated and a lot patient. “But we’re here, we’re doing this rescue,” he says, and he taps at the screen. “And this just doesn’t make sense. Why stop here?”
Brody studies the light again, this time trying to actually think about the vague notions that Mitch is positing. “Well, I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe he had a late night. He could still be sleeping.”
“You heard what Deran said,” Mitch says.
Brody shrugs one shoulder. The morning wake up call thing had sounded romantic, but after a year in a relationship, he knows that things don’t always play out that way forever. “So he forgot,” he says. “He’s got to be sleeping or he’s…”
He finds that he can’t quite finish the thought.
He’s seen dead people before and it still makes him want to hurl a little. He hates to lose anyone on the beach -- his competitive nature still exist in some ways -- and he always takes it personally no matter how many times Mitch lectures him not to.
But that’s not the problem.
The problem is that if this Adrian guy isn’t sleeping, then he’s probably dead, and it doesn’t much matter how Brody takes that news.
What matters is how Deran takes that news.
Deran is the guy who kidnapped two lifeguards at gunpoint when his boyfriend disappeared. When he thought Adrian was missing, he’d threatened to kill. If Adrian really is dead…
Well, that’s less than ideal for all parties involved.
Brody swallows. Hard.
Mitch tweaks a few more of the controls. Brody looks out the window where Deran is scanning the horizon with an intensity. Brody lowers his voice even more, leaning closer to Mitch. “Do you think he’s come to the same conclusion?”
“That Adrian’s probably already dead?” Mitch asks, not bothering to whisper. Brody flinches despite himself, but Deran is too far away to hear. Brody still thinks Mitch’s attitude is a lot more cavalier than it should be. The bigger man shrugs. “Denial is a pretty strong emotion. It makes you do crazy things.”
“Like kidnap lifeguards?” Brody hisses. He tries to swallow back the lump in his throat, but it doesn’t work. “Or kill them when he doesn’t get what he wants?”
Mitch is still completely unbothered. “I doubt he’s thought it through that far.”
“Well, I have,” Brody says, pursing his lips. “And the thought of getting a bullet through the brain is not one I particularly like.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that,” Mitch says. “And if it does, we’ll take action.”
Brody snorts, more than a little incredulous. “I’m not sure that’s as encouraging as you think it is.”
“Look,” Mitch says, making another minor course correction and upping their speed. “We have to go based on our experience. I don’t think this guy bluffs, but he came to use for help.”
Brody narrows his gaze, feeling a little indignant. “He kidnapped us!”
“Yeah, a strong, clearly well connected guy took it upon himself to kidnap two unarmed lifeguards,” Mitch says. “It says a lot about his emotional state right now.”
Brody shrugs, inclining his head toward Mitch. “Still not seeing how that does us any good.”
“The last time I saw him, he was just this emotional, and he came in big, making threats,” Mitch says.
Brody can only stare at him, wondering why in the time since the first incident Mitch had truly told him none of this. If someone had threatened him after a save, Brody would be telling everyone. For example, he’s already thought about how he’s going to tell this story to Summer and then how he’ll tell it to Ronnie and to everyone on the beach.
Assuming he lives.
Shit, he hates that that feels like a big assumption right now.
“And in the end, when you got to the heart with this guy, he was very reasonable,” Mitch says.
“Sure, last time, when this Adrian guy was alive and well and I was the one in surgery,” Brody says, keeping his gaze alternating between Mitch, who was monitoring their water, and Deran, who looked like he was ready to murder the water on principle alone. “We have no context for how this guy deals with not getting what he wants.”
Mitch sighs a little, as if to concede the point. He has to concede the point. Brody wants to feel mollified by that, but the point means that they’re in a lot of danger right now so it’s kind of a shitty point to be right about. Figures. Brody’s always right about the wrong things.
Ultimately, Mitch shrugs. “You know as well as I do that it’s the right thing to do,” he says. He looks at Brody plainly. “Saving people is our job, no matter what.”
Incredulity deepening, Brody makes a face at Mitch. “That’s, like, the opposite of what you told me last time.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is!”
“Dude, it’s not.”
“You were all pissed off that I did the job without thinking about my well being,” Brody protests.
Mitch has to close his mouth. He shrugs again. “Well, this time, he abducted us at gunpoint,” he says. “So I guess that changes things.”
Brody stares at him, wishing that there was more.
There’s not of course.
They have been abducted at gunpoint.
That does kind of change everything.
-o-
Except it doesn’t change almost anything.
Like, sure, it’s stressful and Brody’s got this awful visions of no one coming to his funeral or being eulogized as the Vomit Comet, but other than that, it’s a rescue. It’s a little far out and they’re working mostly blind, but it’s a rescue.
Brody has done a bunch of rescues in the last year of his life.
In Mitch’s career? He’s done even more.
So they know how to find a remote location via GPS. They know how to navigate on the boat. They know how to mentally prep themselves for any conditions. They know how to focus, how to react, how to maximize the victim’s chance of survival. This is what their training is all about. This is why Baywatch is the best of the best.
Because when they’re being held at gunpoint.
They can still do their job.
Even when Brody really wants to hurl the farther and farther they get from shore. Dying would suck right now. Dying would really, really suck.
Mitch says nothing when he eases back on the engine, and they’re slowing down substantially when Deran shouts out from the deck. “I see it! I see the boat!”
Brody looks up, tracing his eyeline to Deran’s call. Deran is pressed against the edge of the boat, eyes fixed on the horizon to the port side. His face is inscrutable, so tight with terror and hope that all expression has almost drained from it.
Mitch turns the boat, navigating by sight now as he moves them forward, cutting through the water toward their rescue. Brody cranes his neck, finally getting a glimpse of the other boat they’ve been tracking.
He’s not sure what he expected. A steady GPS signal had indicated that nothing was amiss, but Deran’s strong reaction had suggested disaster. The lonely vessel does seem fully intact, but there’s something ominous about it position, the way it sits out there like nothing in the world is wrong when something has to be wrong.
Brody’s sense of foreboding only intensifies as they close in, and by the time Mitch brings them to a stop, he wants to get the hell out of there. There’s no sign of distress; there’s no sign of life, actually. There doesn’t seem to be anyone there.
“Adrian!” Deran is yelling now. He turns back to Mitch. “Get us closer!”
Mitch complies, nodding at Brody. “Find some gear, anything you can come up with.”
Brody’s stomach flips. “Mitch, this is a bad idea--”
“Closer!” Deran yells, and he’s practically ready to jump over the side now. “Closer!”
Brody’s breath catches. He’s charged into a lot of situation, a lot more overtly dangerous than this. Shit, with Leeds, he’d walked right up and put his head on the gun. Even the last rescue with this Adrian guy, Brody hadn’t waited for backup, hadn’t stopped when the trigger was pulled.
But there’s something about this.
Something about all of this.
Brody knows when shit is going down because his whole life has been a series of disasters. He always knew when he was getting booted from a foster home. He always knew when he was going to lose a race. He always knew when things were about to get worse if only because it happened all the time.
Shit is going down right now.
He’s just not sure what kind of shit.
And he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to find out.
Shaking his head, he leans toward Mitch. “Mitch, I mean it--”
The two boats are so close now, they’re almost touching. Mitch kills the engine. “We’re already here,” he says, and he sounds grave and resolved. That’s a terrible combination, it really is. Especially when it’s coming from a guy like Mitch Buchannon, who is never wrong and who never backs down even when he should. “It’s done.”
But that’s the other truth that Brody knows. He always knows when things are going to get worse and it never stops him. Sure, he knew he was going to hurl when he raced in Rio, but he still got in the pool. And okay, so it was obvious that no foster family was going to want him, but he still tried to make them want him every damn time. It’s not that disaster is foreboding. It’s that it’s inevitable.
Mitch says it’s done as he reaches for the gear Brody’s numb hands can’t reach for.
Brody, though.
Brody knows it’s really just begun.
-o-
Brody follows.
Really, that’s how it goes at Baywatch. He’s just following orders. Then he’s following a someone’s lead. Now he’s following an example.
Now he’s doing all of them, literally following in Mitch’s footsteps as he is drawn unwillingly willing to the other boat. There’s no one in the water that they can see, which makes the notion of bringing a lifeguard seem ridiculous, but it’s probably not the best time to point that out to Deran.
Deran, for his part, almost seems to have forgotten that he dragged two lifeguards with him in the first place. He’s the first one to board, and he’s fully swept the main deck before Brody can even get his feet beneath him again.
“Adrian!” Deran calls out, yelling it like a demand. You can only hear the desperation when it echoes back at them across the vast and vacant waves.
Holding his breath, Brody glances at Mitch. Mitch is taut and ready, which is how he always is when there’s a call. But there’s a glint in his eyes, an edge to his disposition. It’s possible that Brody’s not imagining the way he seems to stand in front of Brody, body poised between him and Deran. It reminds Brody of the night they went after Leeds on the firework barge.
The night Mitch had gotten himself shot and poisoned while Brody had walked into a gun and been taken hostage.
So, yeah, not a good comparison to make himself feel better or anything.
None of this is made better by the fact that Deran’s already poor composure is rapidly falling to pieces. This happens to people, all sorts of people. You can be smart and strong and capable and brilliant and talented, and you might still lose your shit under pressure. Some people just aren’t wired that way, and Brody’s learned not to judge people for it. It’s called compassion, and it’s one of the harder things Mitch has taught Brody, but he’s really starting to get the hang of it, honestly.
Not with Deran, however. Maybe, in the abstract, he could feel sorry for the guy whose significant other is clearly in some kind of weird peril for the second time in less than a year. And, okay, a significant other for a guy whose mother is a crime lord, that probably means a lot, almost as much as it means to a perpetual foster kid with separation issues and massive self destructive tendencies.
But there’s the concrete reality to this.
Deran’s not just some sympathetic guy with mommy issues who is worried about his boyfriend.
He’s also the guy who has the gun.
And who owns the boats that dragged Brody and Mitch miles and miles from shore. Getting shot out here -- no one would hear it. Being dropped in the water while bleeding -- well, shit. No one would find the body.
Mitch has taught Brody a lot, but he still has some shred of common sense.
Sometimes.
Honestly, it’s a little inconsistent, but it’s in full force right now.
Brody is contemplating jumping back on the other boat and driving it far, far away while Deran is preoccupied, but when he looks at Mitch to convey this plan to him, he finds Mitch focused on the rescue.
Bastard. Only Mitch could do his job under this kind of duress. Brody knows he’s the one who saved Adrian in the first place, but that’d been straightforward protocol and whatever. This isn’t normal, and Brody’s having a hard time making it parse because it’s hard to rescue a victim when he feels like he’s the one who has been victimized this time around.
“I think we need to slow down, be thorough,” Mitch says in that way of his. He is calm and disarming and most of the time it works.
But Deran isn’t even listening. Frantically, he kicks over deck chairs like Deran someone is hiding behind them, and he balls up a tarp and literally throws it overboard in his frustration. When he comes up empty handed, he charges past Mitch and Brody to the cabin.
Mitch tries again, following a few steps after Deran. Brody follows a few steps after him out of instinct. “Proper search protocol dictates--”
Deran doesn’t care about proper protocol, and he may have thought he needed lifeguards but right now he doesn’t seem to know they’re even there. This could be the chance they need, their chance to get away.
“Deran--” Mitch says.
Deran’s hand is on the door, and he pushes it open with some force. “Adrian! Adrian--”
Deran’s voice dies, caught almost strangled in his throat. He stops short and sudden, and Mitch comes to an abrupt halt behind him so that Brody almost crashes into him from behind. Brody is about to protest, but the words are sucked from his own chest, consumed by the tension that is suddenly suffocating.
The adrenaline has reached its peak.
Brody’s breathing catches, and his heart seems to stop pounding as he steps to the side, just enough to look around Mitch’s large frame. It’s hard to see around Mitch and Deran in front of him, but Brody catches a glimpse of the scene.
The cabin is in disarray. Items are tumbled over on one another and the air smells stale. There’s a smear of something red on the floor, and Brody wills himself not to know what it is. He follows his eyes along the floor to the far wall where he sees a figure.
A familiar figure.
Brody barely remembers the guy he rescued at gunpoint five miles out from the pier. He’d suffered from blood loss and shock and been in surgery and shit. He probably wouldn’t have been able to pick Adrian out of a lineup nine times out of ten, not unless he was beaten, bloodied and terrified.
Funny enough, that’s exactly what he looks like now. Brody can’t make out much of what his features should look like with so much blood smeared over the top of his freckled skin, but his blue eyes look exactly like Brody could remember.
Scared.
Desperate.
This is a rescue, all right.
Just not the kind Brody had been prepared for at all.
-o-
It seems like forever that they stand there, frozen. Seriously, forever, while Deran stands there, staring at Adrian like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Ultimately, it’s Mitch who moves first, stepping around Deran and making quick progress to Adrian. One his knees, he starts by working at the ropes on Adrian’s wrists, but the other man shakes his head, making frantic noises that are muffled by the gag in his mouth.
This is when Deran moves. He crosses over after Mitch with even more purpose. Deran is working at the knot in the gag when Brody starts to put things together.
Deduction and solving cases, that’s Mitch’s shit. Brody’s always a little slow on the uptake and that’s fine and all, but he’s also the only one who is thinking about this as a case with more than one victim. For once, his selfish side is an asset, and he knows that if Adrian is beaten and bloodied, then that’s one thing.
But if he’s bound and gagged?
Well, shit.
That’s because he’s not alone.
Whoever did this to him.
They’re still here.
Brody opens his mouth to suggest they take some kind of precaution, but Mitch is being a lifeguard and Deran is being an anxious boyfriend and the second the gag is free, Adrian says, “They’re still here!”
From the door on the back of the cabin, Brody sees the movement but he’s a lifeguard, okay. He’s not armed. He has zero combat experience. When two large dudes come out toting guns, there’s nothing he can do except raise his hands.
Because, as a lifeguard, Brody knows how to be a hero?
In a hostage situation? He’s only ever been the victim.
The men herd Brody toward the others until he’s on his knees with his hands on his head. Mitch reluctantly follows suit while Adrian chokes on a sob and Deran glares hard.
Hero or victim: He knows which one he prefers.
Too bad no gives a shit what Brody thinks right now.
-o-
The good news is that they found Adrian. They found him alive.
The bad news is that they also found some bad guys. And that being alive could be a temporary situation.
For all of them.
He tries to find some solace in the fact that Deran probably isn’t going to kill him anymore.
As these new guys pat Deran down and take his gun, Brody concedes the fact that these guys probably will.
They pat Brody down as well, and then they take the time to tie his wrists together in front of him, which is silly since he’s in a swimsuit and he’s a lifeguard for goodness sake, but that doesn’t seem to matter to them. In fact, Brody doesn’t seem to be of concern at all, and he’s shoved back down against the far wall of the cabin next to Adrian.
This Adrian guy, up close and in the flesh, is a surprising source of so much turmoil. Underneath the blood, he looks like an average sort of guy. He has blonde hair that has been bleached by the sun, and his complexion is fair even with a tan. He’s got the build of a surfer, and Brody wonders if he’s seen the dude, catches waves out in the surf.
Which is to say, he looks normal.
Nothing about this guy suggests that he should be dealing drugs.
Or, you know, dating in a family of crime lords.
Of course, with the bloodied face, he looks the part a little more. He’s worse off than the last time Brody saw him. The beating has gone on longer this time, and it seems to be less about extraction and more about, well, pain. His nose looks broken, his lip split. His left eye is swollen shut and there’s blood everywhere. He’s sitting funny, like he’s got something broken or bruised badly somewhere.
Last time he’d seen this guy, the bad guys had been trying to kill him, quick and simple. This isn’t quick or simple. This is long and drawn out. Brody doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling he probably doesn’t want to know.
He also has the feeling that he’s probably going to find out a lot sooner than he wants.
And possibly a lot more demonstrably.
Mitch is the last one they pat down, and while Brody’s search had been cursory, they seem to put a little more effort into Mitch’s. Brody’s got a lot of muscle mass, but he’s short. He’s not imposing, and he probably looks so scared that there’s nothing intimidating about him.
Mitch, on the other hand, is built like a giant. He’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, but he can be scary as hell when he wants to be.
He wants to be now.
He stares down his nose at the assailants, standing stiff so that his muscles were rock hard as they patted him down. He made no overt sign of aggression; he didn’t have to. They pat him down twice, just to be sure, then prod him with a gun until he takes a seat on the other side of Adrian. As a last measure, they tie Mitch’s hands together as well, and Mitch simply raises a skeptical eyebrow when they need to use more rope than anticipated to fit around his massive wrists.
Brody finds this whole situation disconcerting, because it’s bad enough being kidnapped by people who want you to help them. It’s, like, a whole different thing when you’re kidnapped by people who don’t seem to want anything from you. It’s a little bit of comfort to know that these guys haven’t up and shot him already, but honestly, that seems like the dimmest silver lining basically ever.
Still, Brody will take it.
For all that he may or may not have in common with this Adrian guy, it’s pretty clear he feels the same. Mitch is hulking and mad but he’s got sense for now to keep his mouth shut.
Deran, on the other hand, not so much.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” he seethes, visibly straining against his bounds. His face is red and he looks furious. He’s practically spitting when he speaks. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
The men, who are dressed in similar black clothing so that it looks like a damn crime movie cliche, exchange a bemused look. “We know who are you.”
Deran does not seem to like that answer. To be fair, Brody is pretty sure Deran wouldn’t like any answer right now. “Then you should be a whole lot more scared than you are right now,” he says. “I swear to God, you’re dead. You’re dead.”
Brody has to think that threatening people with death is not the way to go here. He’s got limited experience in this, sure, but he has some common sense. Like, maybe Deran’s family connections do yield them some negotiating power. But that means you have to negotiate. There have to be terms. Like, incentives or shit. You can’t tell people you’re going to kill them and expect that to make them not want to kill you.
That’s, you know, logic. Or whatever.
Deran is kind of past logic. Or maybe this is just criminal logic. Or my-boyfriend’s-been-kidnapped logic.
Thrashing, Deran kicks his legs. “I’m going to kill you myself, assholes.”
One of the men reaches for a gun but the other holds up a hand to stop him. From the ground next to Brody, Adrian whimpers. “Deran, don’t--”
Deran isn’t listening, though. All this time and energy and criminal activity to find Adrian, and Deran isn’t hearing a word he says. “You’re idiots, you know,” he continues aggressively. His eyes are gleaming with rage now. “You’re not just idiots. You’re cowards. We’ll leave your bodies in the ocean and no one will find them so there’s nothing to bury, nothing to eulogize, because assholes like you don’t deserve that shit. You shit-faced--”
The first guy reaches for his gun again, looking more agitated than before. This time, the second guy seems to let him, and the dude is on his feet, sweeping the gun across the four hostages as Deran continues to rage.
Brody flinches, closing his eyes and preparing for the worst. He can feel Mitch tense, but it’s Adrian who finally manages to intervene.
“Deran,” Adrian says again, his voice finding more strength this time even as it cracks. “Please.”
The inflection in that word, the utter desperation. It makes Brody’s heart stop cold in his chest.
Or maybe that’s just the gun that’s being waved around in his general proximity.
But the intonation does have the desired effect on Deran, whose invectives fall silent as he looks across Mitch toward Adrian. Brody sees his face from the other end of the line, watches as he looks at Adrian and finally sees him.
He finally remembers why he came.
He remembers.
Closing his mouth, Deran draws a breath.
With heavy breaths, Adrian continues. “This is the last thing I wanted,” he says. “I didn’t want you to come, not like this.”
Deran’s jaw twitches, and he shakes his head. “Of course I was going to come.”
Adrian swallows with some obvious effort. His entire body seems to shake with the effort. “Then enough with the threats,” he says. “Because you came for me. You came for me.”
Deran’s eyes seem to fill with tears for a moment.
Just for a moment.
Then he blinks hard.
Adrian shudders as he exhales. “And you know who’s coming for you.”
Of all things, that works.
To be clear, Brody is glad it works. Deran seems dead set on getting them all killed right about now, but Brody has no idea why it works. Because they’re at sea. Like, way at sea. Being held hostage. By some really not good people who clearly like to do really not good things if the state of Adrian’s face tells them anything. So who could possibly be coming for them?
The look on Deran’s face is hardly reassuring. He draws his lips until they’re pursed and he finally, slowly nods his head. “Yeah,” he says, turning his cold gaze back up at the bad guys. He’s full of resolve now, the calmness in him deadlier than before. “I got a pretty good idea who’s coming for me.”
The man with the gun smiles as he lowers his weapon. “Good,” he says. “Then I’m sure you’ll be more than happy to cooperate with a little message we have to send.”
Deran doesn’t look happy but he doesn’t resist as the man grabs him by a bound arm and lifts him to his feet.
They move off toward a back room off the cabin, leaving the other man watching over the three remaining hostages with cool indifference. “We can relax for now,” he says, and he sounds awfully conversational about it as his face widens into a smile. “We have a few more people who need to join the party.”
There’s no threat; there’s no move to violence. But next to him, Adrian closes his eyes with a half-muffled sob.
Somehow, Brody can’t tell if whoever shows up next will be a Godsend.
Or a death note.
Brody flexes his fingers and looks across Adrian toward Mitch. Mitch meets his gaze somberly. He doesn’t know either.
Shit, Brody thinks, swallowing hard as he looks forward again.
There’s probably no choice but to find out.
-o-
Brody doesn’t like to think that he’ll ever get used to being in peril, but he has to admit, he kind of gets used to it. Like, you have to. That fight or flight response, that surge of adrenaline that allows him to get shit done -- or fold completely -- under pressure, it only lasts so long. It takes a few minutes -- but really, only a few minutes -- for his heart rate to start to slow and for his breathing to slowly but surely return to normal.
Sure, Brody still thinks he’s going to die and he’s still scared pretty much shitless, but that’s really that. The dude watching them doesn’t seem overly keen on his job, and he makes no overt signs of aggression. Deran and the other guy have been gone for awhile now, and Brody is...well. Kind of bored?
Now, that’s not the normal response. Hostage situations aren’t boring. They’re just not.
It’s just that there’s nothing to do.
Brody just has to sit there.
And sit some more.
It involves a lot of sitting.
Shit, Brody squirms, trying not to be too obvious. He’d been diagnosed with, like, three learning disabilities as a kid and one of them was ADHD or ADD or something. He’d been on some medication for a bit, but he’d changed foster homes and it just didn’t work out and it didn’t really matter if Brody sat still or moved around, he was still an idiot.
There are moments, however, when having an attention span might be kind of nice.
As it turns out, a hostage situation?
It’s actually one of those moments.
He pulls at the ropes on his wrists and wriggles in his place. Next to him, Adrian doesn’t seem to move. Brody has to fidget a few more times before he catches Mitch staring at him. The look isn’t quite disapproval, but his expression is guarded. He’s thinking about something, and he’s thinking about how Brody fits into that something.
From Brody’s experience -- and he’s got a lot of it this past year -- that means Mitch is coming up with a plan. Probably a crazy, stupid plan that involves a lot of danger.
A plan that involves Brody.
A plan that involves Brody being in lots of danger.
There was a time when that bothered Brody. He’s mostly past that now, given his own propensity to head full on into danger. It’s still this thing between them, though. See, one of them has to be the responsible one. If one of them is going to be foolhardy and moronic, the other has to be the voice of reason and save the day. It’s been that way since Mitch got fired for tracking Leeds and Brody filled in for him. They’re, like, counterbalances or something. Yin and yang.
Which means, if Mitch has a plan.
Then Brody necessarily has to object to it.
He shakes his head, even though he doesn’t know specifically what he’s objecting to.
Mitch nods his head in return, insisting upon his still unknown.
Brody jerks his head toward the dude, who seems to be picking at his nails.
Mitch bobs his head toward Adrian and raises his eyebrows.
Brody huffs, but he looks at Adrian. His eyes are closed, which only serves to make him look worse. Given how bad he looked before, he kind of looks dead now. He’s breathing, though -- Brody can hear him -- and it’s pretty clear that he’s not had a good night at all.
Mitch’s meaning is clear: Adrian is the victim.
Sure, Brody’s been kidnapped twice today, but Adrian’s the victim. There’s a reason Brody took a call without backup five miles out several months ago. There’s a reason he willingly risked getting shot to make the save. There’s a reason.
Because Adrian’s the victim.
Brody frowns, looking at Mitch again. He shrugs his shoulders, face scrunched up with uncertainty. He’ll concede the point that Adrian is a priority right now given his condition, but that still doesn’t give them any viable means of actual rescue. They’re bound. They’re being watched by a guy who clearly doesn’t have any problem hurting people.
Mitch nods his understanding.
Which really is something because Brody has no idea what he understands. This does not appear to bother Mitch. It never bothers Mitch, probably because it happens so often. This is due to the fact that Mitch has a lot of horrible plans. It also has something to do with the fact that Brody is not very good at plans. Or, you know, logic.
Clearing his throat, Mitch looks away from Brody. Eyes widening, Brody shakes his head in horror as he realizes what Mitch is about to do. Mitch is going to talk to the guy; he’s going to start up a conversation. Mitch clearly thinks it’s the best way to secure any kind of privileges, maybe to make them more likeable. Whatever it may be, it also means that they have to get this guy’s attention.
From his experience, which is more than it should be for a lifeguard, having the undivided attention of a bad guy with a gun is very, very bad. The last time it happened, Brody nearly bled out in the ocean. The time before, Brody nearly got his head blown off. He does not want any of those things to happen again.
“So,” Mitch says before Brody can find some other way to stop him. “I have a question.”
The guy looks over to them and Brody stiffles a groan. He sinks back dejectedly, watching in resignation as the exchange plays out.
“How long exactly are we going to sit here?” Mitch asks. He’s doing a careful job of keeping his voice regulated at least. Before, he’d been exuding aggression. Now, he’s playing for diplomacy. Only a guy like Mitch can make himself utterly nonthreatening when he has the muscle mass and sheer skill to rip most people in half.
Of course, the dude has a gun, so Brody agrees that playing it nice is the best play if talking is on the table.
It shouldn’t be, for the record. No one asked Brody, though. Or, if Mitch did ask Brody with raised eyebrows and shrugs, then Brody had no idea what he was agreeing to, which seems to be kind of the way things go for him on Baywatch.
“Depends,” the guy says. “But we have good leverage. I don’t think it’ll be much more than a few hours. If we’re still here tomorrow morning, then something’s gone wrong.”
Brody wonders if the guy realizes the possible implications of his statement. It’s likely that here refers to this specific location on the boat. But Brody can’t help but wonder if here also refers to his position on this planet while still breathing.
Mitch does not seem to be suffering from the same, crippling fear. “I assume you wanted this guy alive?” he asks, and he nods toward Adrian who has snuffled in his sleep.
The guy narrows his eyes, flicking between Mitch and Adrian with his gaze. “Those were my instructions, yes.”
Mitch nods, as if this is completely reasonable and not completely crazy. “Well, you may want to give him another look,” he says, and he gives the guy a sympathetic smile. “He’s not looking so good.”
The guy looks over at Adrian again, this time with a hint of concern in his expression. “What’s wrong with him?”
Mitch shrugs. “I’m not a doctor, so I can’t be sure,” he says. “But I do have extensive first aid training. His breathing’s just not right. Could be a few bruised ribs, but if they’re broken…” He lets that trail off, letting the implication stand dramatically.
The guy is standing up a little straighter now. “I told James to go easier,” he says. “But no, he feels restless. He wants to make a point.”
“And you’ll both be responsible, huh,” Mitch says. “That’s tough.”
The guy has taken several steps closer to them now. Brody finds himself holding his breath. His heart starts to pound. At least he can’t say it’s boring anymore, but he’s not sure that’s a good thing. “You really think he’s not doing well?”
That’s a ridiculous question, so stupid that even Brody can see it. They’ve beaten Adrian badly, and he’s only conscious some of the time. Although, it probably says something about this guy that Adrian’s condition hasn’t warranted immediate concern. Chances are, the guy has seen worse.
Chances are, this guy has done worse.
Mitch’s expression is pitying now. “I’d have to look him over to be sure.”
“You can do that?” the guy asks, sounding a little hopeful now. “You can give him a once-over?”
“Sure,” Mitch says, like this hasn’t been his idea all along. Brody still thinks it’s a little reckless to engage this guy -- any conversation can turn in a heartbeat, Brody knows from experience -- but Mitch is good. He’s gotten the guy to do what he wants while making him think it’s his idea. Of course, it’d be better if he could talk the guy into letting them go, but first things first. “But I’d need permission to move around a little.”
“Yeah, sure,” the guy says readily. “I mean, you have to stay bound, you understand.”
“Sure, yeah, of course,” Mitch says. “But if you let me, my partner and I will give him a look.”
Brody stiffens at the reference. For the first time all conversation, the guy looks directly at Brody.
He swallows meagerly and tries not to shit his pants.
“Yeah, do it,” he says. “I mean, no funny shit, right?”
“Nothing funny,” Mitch pledges. “I’d just hate to see this guy die right now. Wouldn’t you?”
It’s non-aggressive, humble, easy and friendly. There’s no way it should work.
But the guy eases back, settling back down on his perch with a bare but genuine smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Sure would.”
Well, shit, is all Brody can think.
It worked.
All the crap that’s gone wrong today, and that one worked.
-o-
Brody feels good about things for about two seconds.
Then he actually has to help Mitch look at Adrian.
And that’s horrible.
Brody’s got first aid training and he’s seen some crazy shit on the beach, he really has. But when injuries are really bad, he usually just calls 911 and that’s that. He’s dealt with nosebleeds, skinned knees and once he dealt with a scissors incident gone awry. He’s still the guy who screamed like a girl when a bloody foot landed on his head, though. Because he’s a swimmer, not a doctor. He’s a lifeguard, not a medic.
And this Adrian guy -- he looks well beyond anything Brody can treat.
He almost looks beyond treating at all.
Mitch doesn’t seem bothered by that.
Because Mitch isn’t bothered by anything, the bastard.
“Hey, Adrian,” Mitch says, and he keeps his voice low. Brody isn’t sure if this is to avoid aggravating the good graces of their keeper or if, like, he wants to somehow keep this on the down low. With his bound hands, he jostles Adrian gently on the arm. “Are you okay?”
It’s the kind of question a lifeguard asks, okay. Brody’s asked it a hundred different times in situations that are pretty obvious, too. All the same, this strikes Brody as incredibly funny. Adrian’s been kidnapped and beaten -- and this isn’t the first time he’s been in this position. His face is bloody and swollen and Mitch is all are you okay?
Nobody in this situation is okay, least of all this Adrian guy.
It’s funny, but Brody can’t quite bring himself to laugh. At least, not without crying at the same time, and he’s pretty sure laughing is inappropriate and crying would just be really embarrassing. And distraction.
What is he supposed to be doing again?
Mitch, fortunately, isn’t paying attention to the fact that Brody’s completely not paying attention. Instead, he’s got his hands on Adrian’s face, trying to bring him back around.
“Adrian, I need you to wake up for me,” he says, and though his voice is still quiet, he’s got a note of command in his voice now. “Just open your eyes.”
Adrian, for all that he seems to get into trouble, actually obeys the command. Brody should be willing to cut him some slack in this regard. He knows what it’s like to have really bad luck even when you want to do the right thing and whatever. Some people are just born unlucky, and they start making shitty choices because shitty choices don’t make things any better or any worse than good ones. Brody gets that. He’s lived it.
It’s annoying as hell, though, to see it in other people. It’s a wonder that Mitch has put up with him and his propensity to self implode for this long.
As Adrian rouses, Brody finds that his own lifeguard instincts start to kick in. Just a little.
Probably just enough.
He inches closer to Adrian. His hands aren’t free either, but he leans into the other man to help prop him a little more upright as he starts to come to. Some people -- people like Mitch and CJ and Summer and Ronnie -- they do this shit because it’s what good people just naturally do. Other people -- people like Brody -- have to learn it. He’s kind of proud, in all honesty, that it’s only taken a year for this to become second nature for him. A year ago, he’d been a smart-ass, dried-out Olympian on community service. Today, he can actually pass for a hero.
Most of the time.
This could be one of those times.
Or this could be one of those times he nearly dies and is pathetic.
He’s also apparently pretty good at that.
“That’s a boy,” Mitch cajoles, and he’s smiling like he’s really happy by the time Adrian’s blue eyes flutter open. It takes several more moments before his eyes actually focus, and Brody watches for several more seconds while the dude tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Mitch continues grinning anyway. “See, not so hard.”
It actually seems quite hard, but that’s not a necessary commentary. Brody bites his tongue while Adrian swallows with a wince. Every breath seems to be increasingly painful for him, and his whole body trembles as he gathers enough strength to speak. “Deran?”
“I think he’s in the back, recording a message,” Mitch says, because he always believes in telling the truth but he’s somehow super good at telling the truth in a way that people don’t find overwhelming. “Shouldn’t be too long.”
This time, however, the reassurance doesn’t work. Adrian sits up, the halting movements looking so painful that Brody all but wedges himself behind him to make sure he doesn’t slip back down. “No, that’s not -- he can’t--”
Mitch shakes his head. “It’s done now, okay? It’s done. We’re all here; we’re all alive; and that’s done.”
Adrian seems only more agitated. “He shouldn’t have come, that’s what they wanted,” he says. Weak as he is, his voice is starting to pitch. Brody glances anxiously over at the dude with the gun, who seems to be watching them more closely now. “That’s their plan.”
“You know these guys?” Mitch asks.
Adrian looks at him, blinking rapidly a few times while Mitch clearly tracks his eyes movements for signs of concussion. In the disorientation, Adrian’s not given any of this a second thought. He seems aware of himself now; aware that he’s not alone and that privacy isn’t a thing. “Maybe,” he says, and the word is shaky when he says it.
Not for a lack of certainty, Brody can surmise.
But for a lack of safety.
Brody swallows and tries not to look at the guy, who is staring them down hard now.
Mitch clears his throat with a diffusing smile. “How’s your head feel?”
“Bad,” Adrian says. “Worse concussion of my life.”
Mitch probes the bruises on his face, prodding at the swollen eye gently. “Can you still see?”
Adrian tries to pull his head back, but there’s nowhere to go. “Just bruised there,” he says. Mitch has moved on to his nose and Adrian hisses. “That’s broken, though.”
Mitch nods with a sympathetic wince. “Anything else?”
“Ribs,” Adrian says, inhaling sharply as Mitch runs his hands down his chest. He cries out a little, choking on sobs that he doesn’t have the energy to indulge. “Ugh, lots of ribs.”
Mitch isn’t smiling when he pulls his hand away. Over Adrian’s shoulder, he meets Brody’s eye. It’s a split second between them, but it’s enough.
Shit, it’s more than enough.
Brody has trained under Mitch. He’s modeled himself after the guy. Everything he knows, everything he is, is Mitch. Hell, he even lives with him. There’s nothing about Brody that Mitch hasn’t shaped to his particular beliefs. It means that for all that Mitch is insufferable, Brody’s just as bad. Given a given situation, Brody knows exactly what Mitch would do.
Now, this is partly because it’s not the thing that a normal person would do, but whatever.
Brody knows.
He knows what Mitch is trying to tell him.
Adrian’s not doing that great. The ribs are a thing they have to worry about, and it’s possible that it’s worse than that. Like, internal bleeding kind of worse. If they were back near shore, they’d be loading Adrian up on an ambulance where he could get emergency surgery and that would be that.
It’s not so simple out here.
On a boat.
With bad guys taking them hostage.
This is the opposite of simple.
Brody finds himself holding his breath as Mitch looks back at Adrian. “Anything else you want to tell me?” he asks. He doesn’t look over his shoulder. He doesn’t have to. “Anything?”
Adrian does it for him. He shudders a little -- Brody can feel it against his skin -- and he shakes his head. “That’s it for injury,” he says. “They were going for dramatic. They weren’t trying to kill me.”
He says it quietly, but the guy over there can hear them. It’s not clear if this answer is intended to piss the guy off or ingratiate him. By the cold look on the guy’s face, it’s clear that he’s not sure how to take it either. No doubt he’s made some peace with the fact that he’s a goon who beats people up, but Brody knows from experience that even people who accept that they’re an asshole don’t always like being an asshole.
Mitch smiles because that’s all he really can do at this point. For Adrian’s sake. For the guy with the gun. For Brody, even. “Kind of funny that we’re here again,” he says, like they’ve happened to meet in the supermarket instead of a hostage situation. “I thought we’d been pretty clear in our last conversation.”
Adrian sighs, a long, exhausting process that almost leaves him spent. “You can’t hold hospital conversations against people, man,” he says between wheezing breaths. “It’s not cool.”
“Those are the moments when you know what matters, though,” Mitch says. “I thought we were on the same page.”
Sagging back against Brody, Adrian doesn’t seem too put out by the fact that he can’t even hold himself up at this point. He hasn’t acknowledged Brody’s presence; he probably doesn’t have to. “You’re not even supposed to be here,” he moans, closing his eyes for a moment. “Why are you even here?”
“Hey, not our choice,” Brody chimes in.
Adrian cracks his eyes open, craning his neck back to look at Brody almost for the first time. “Are you the--?”
“Lifeguard who got shot for you before?” Brody fills in. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
This seems disconcerting to Adrian. He looks at Mitch for some kind of explanation. “But…”
“Deran,” Mitch supplies for him. “He knew you were missing and he didn’t want to involve certain other parties.”
Adrian sinks back, miserable once more. “That’s why he shouldn’t have come,” he says. “This was never going to end well.”
“That’s what I told you,” Mitch says, and he’s being a bit heavy handed with this one, but Brody has to admit: the dude has a point. “I told you to watch for the consequences of your choices.”
Tiredly, Adrian shakes his head. “You told me to remember what matters.”
“Yeah, and that meant you were supposed to not be involved with crime,” Mitch says. “I thought that was implied.”
“But that’s not what matters,” Adrian argues. “The people. I had to pick the people. The person.”
The person who would kidnap two lifeguards to save your life.
Those kind of people.
Not the criminal ones, necessarily.
Just the ones who loved you.
Brody knows about this, okay. He knows what it is to need to be a part of a family. He knows how much he’d give up for it. Hell, that’s why he’s become Mitch’s right hand man despite all the insanity. That’s why he’ll charge into danger without backup. Because when you find that person, when you find those people, when you find that family, then none of the rest matters.
You pick the people who pick you.
Because that kind of mutuality is not easy to find.
“But you’re still dealing drugs?” Mitch asks, voice almost at a whisper now. “Really?”
Brody already knows Adrian’s answer. “Well, the people who matter just happen to be criminals,” he says. “There wasn’t another way.”
Mitch lets out a breath of his own and shakes his head. He’s got a lot of patience with idiots at least. Adrian will have to thank Brody later when they’re, you know, not held hostage. And not dead. “Honestly, I’m not totally sure you got the meaning of our last conversation.”
Adrian doesn’t have a comeback. There’s no logic or rationale or even a quip or a joke. There’s no apology. All Adrian says is, “I love him. I just. I love him.”
Brody’s own chest feels tight suddenly, and Mitch wets his lips. “And if it gets you both killed?” he asks.
“I love him,” Adrian says, because when you get down to it, it’s the only thing that matters. “I really love him.”