Come Away with Me
Travis’ head snapped back violently, hitting the wall behind him with an audible thunk, causing his vision to briefly white out and then grow dark along the edges. Blinking his eyes rapidly trying to clear his now distorted vision, Travis found to his dismay he had not passed out with that last hit. He had been hoping for a break from the blows and the current round of asinine questions he was being subjected too.
Gingerly shaking his head trying to shake loose his foggy memory, Travis wondered how his luck was so bad he had ended up tied to a chair in what he could only assume was some rich guy’s basement considering the size of it. The last thing he remembered was being grabbed outside of a local diner where he had been going to meet a friend for lunch. A vague memory of the smell of chloroform and then he had woken up in a dark, damp cellar with two strangers who began to question him. They were calling him Reese for some reason and when they didn’t like his answers they had begun to punctuate their questions with their fists.
“Reese, just tell us where the money is and this can all stop,” said the greasy man standing in front of Travis. The man questioning him was tall and skinny, like skeletally thin to the point that Travis wanted to offer to buy the other man some pizza or something just so he would get some calories. Travis was pleased to see that the knuckles on one hand of the scrawny man had split on the last hit, so at least the man was somewhat sharing in his pain. The other goon was almost comically the opposite of his partner, he was short and almost round in shape. Neither seemed like the sharpest tool in the shed.
Even though it hurt to move, Travis couldn’t help sitting up a bit straighter and rolling his eyes before saying, “Once again, I am not this Reese character. My name is Travis and I definitely do not have your money.”
“Reese, don’t play dumb,” the man continued like Travis hadn’t said anything. “We know you took the money your pal Georgie told us so.”
Travis shook his head and smirked up at the looming man, or at least tried too, his rapidly swelling eye and split lip made it difficult and said, “I don’t even know anyone named Georgie. Look in my wallet you’ll find a grand total of twenty dollars and my I.D. You’ll see my name is Travis Walker. Here I’ll spell it for you as it seems like you’re not too smart, T-r-a-v-i-s W-a-l…”
In hindsight, Travis should’ve expected the punch to the gut, not that it would have stopped his sarcastic diatribe because he has never been good at controlling his mouth, but he would have at least been ready for it. As he desperately tried to suck in his next breath around the radiating pain in his stomach, Travis felt one of the duo lean him forward and snag his wallet from his back pocket. Just when he was starting to panic his lungs remembered that the rest of his body needed air and he was finally able to draw in a deep breath.
The two men had stepped to one side and started to paw through his wallet. Watching as various credit and business cards hit the floor, Travis couldn’t help the hey that escaped from his mouth nor could he duck the backhand he received for his indignation.
The sharp pain that went through his head caused a rolling tide of nausea to crawl up his throat and he had to swallow hard a couple of times. He had a feeling if he threw up all over himself he would earn another couple of hits. For the first time Travis noticed that his vision had gone a little bit blurry and he wondered vaguely if he had a concussion. His eyelids felt heavy as he slowly slumped forward, Travis couldn’t help letting himself drift, he felt so sleepy all of the sudden, until a few words of the muffled argument off to his right caught his attention.
“Look at this…”
“Shit you grabbed the wrong guy…”
“Don’t blame me I only do what I’m told and Georgie said this was the guy…”
“Well the boss is going to be pissed. Not only that but now we have to get rid of this one and still find Reese and the bosses’ money.”
Travis tried to get his uncooperative muscles to sit him back up and pay attention, but his whole body felt like jelly. Finally he was able to prop himself up on one elbow and slurred out, “Hey…I’m a reasonable guy I under…understand mistakes happen. You can drop me off anywhere and I can make my own way home.”
The skinny one laughed like what Travis had said was the funniest thing he had heard in a long while. The cruel sound sent a shiver of fear down his spine.
Finally the man stopped laughing and said a little breathlessly, “Yeah, right. No you’re headed for a one way trip,” and then almost as an afterthought shrugged and said, “Sorry.”
“You seem real broken up about it,” Travis muttered as he watched with growing dread as the rotund man grabbed a tarp off of a storage rack next to the stairs.
“Come on guys. I swear I won’t say a word,” Travis ground out as he struggled against the ropes on his wrists. He felt the nylon cord cut into his skin but he no longer cared about the pain.
His plea got a snort out of one of the goons but as their backs were turned as they spread the tarp out onto the floor Travis couldn’t tell which one it was. He had been in many scraps and in quite a few situations he honestly shouldn’t have lived through but somehow he had come out of them alive. Now he was going to be killed by a nameless two bit hood not because of anything he had done personally but because he had been mistaken for someone else.
Travis felt his fear tip over into panic as the shorter of the two men took a gun from his holster and started to twist on a silencer. He had always heard that your life flashed before your eyes right before you die. But for him it was less like a movie reel and more like flashes, his mom smiling down at him, his father angry his hand raised, their adventure with Mariana, and finally Beck the person that featured in most of his thoughts and dreams lately. As the gunman brought the glock up and Travis screwed his eyes closed, regret filling him that he would never be able to tell the man he loved how he felt.
Instead of a gunshot, Travis heard a loud explosion overhead.
Opening his eyes in surprise, Travis saw the two goons looking at the ceiling as a series of bangs and muffled curses could be heard, followed by what sounded like gunshots.
Then he knew.
Now it was his turn to laugh when the men looked at him quizzically, Travis couldn’t help crowing, “You guys are so screwed! Do you know who I was meeting for lunch when you grabbed me?”
They looked down at him and mutely shook their heads as the noises continued and grew louder above.
“That,” Travis exclaimed with triumph, looking up toward the basement door just as it was kicked in and silhouetted in the doorway was a rather familiar looking man, “is Beck.”
Beck charged down the stairs, the look on his face was murderous.
The skinny man brought his gun up and Travis tipped his chair forward knocking into the back of the gunman’s legs causing him to stumble, his gun skidding across the floor. Travis hit the ground with a pained grunt but his agony was worth it as it gave Beck enough time to reach the bottom of the stairs and land the first punch straight across the jaw of the shorter man. One hit was all it took to lay him out and then Beck hauled the skinny man off the floor and delivered another serious of punches that soon had him incapacitated.
Beck dropped the now unconscious man and quickly ran over to Travis and picked the chair back up. “Are you okay?” Beck asked as he started to lose his bonds.
“What kind of question….No of course I’m not okay. I was kidnapped…tied…tied to a chair and worked over…all because they thought I was someone else,” Travis said his words felt slow and thick on his tongue. The blurriness of his vision was getting worse and he squinted up at Beck trying to tell him how happy he was to see him but he suddenly couldn’t get his mouth to corporate.
“Travis?” Beck asked, his voice sounded strained with worry, as he crouched down in front of him.
Maybe it was the concussion making him see things but Travis could’ve sworn that Beck cradled his face and gently caressed his cheek with his thumb and a tender look on his face while saying his name with increasing urgency. He tried to keep his eyes from closing wanting to stay in this reality where Beck seemed to care a lot about him but his head hurt too much and he slowly slipped free from consciousness.
~The Rundown~
Travis woke slowly. First there was the sensation of cool sheets against his skin, and that had him slowly stretching out wincing slightly when the movement pulled at some of the bruises. Then there was the delicious smell of coffee wafting in from somewhere close, and he could tell just from the aroma it was the good kind, not the cheap instant crap he had back at his tiny apartment. There was also music playing, the sound far off and muffled.
From the feel of the thread count on the sheets, and smell of what was undoubtedly expensive coffee he was most definitely not at his place. Unfortunately he was going to have to open his eyes in order to figure out anymore than that. Considering his head felt like he had gone ten rounds with Ali, Travis had a really bad feeling that he was in for a world of hurt. Finally he cracked his eyes open and immediately slammed them closed again as the bright sunlight felt like a laser straight to his brain. From the brief glimpse of the vaguely familiar guest room Travis knew he was at Beck’s house. Telling himself to stop being a wuss Travis opened his eyes and forced himself to keep them open.
It hurt no less the second time but he was able to breathe through the pain and he struggled to sit up wanting to take stock after everything that happened. Finally managing to sit up and lean gingerly against the padded headboard, Travis pulled the blankets up onto his lap and noticed for the first time his wrists were bandaged. Running a finger lightly over the white cloth the memory of his struggle against his bonds as the gun was pointed at his head crowded in and he quickly moved on to his other injuries. His stomach was still tender, and from a brief glance at the standing mirror next to the bed he could see he had quite the shiner and split lip. Plus every muscle in his body was stiff and aching. Just as he was wondering if he could force himself out of bed long enough to find a bathroom the door opened.
Beck came in with a tray and looked surprised to see him awake, “Hey you’re up. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a mac track,” Travis groused, grabbing the cup of coffee off the tray that Beck placed on his lap. Taking a small sip, he immediately regretted it as the hot coffee burned his mouth and caused the split in his lip to ache, Travis set the mug back down and asked, “What time is it? And what happened after I passed out?”
Beck grabbed the chair from the desk and placed it next to the bed. His eyebrows crinkled up in concern and worry threaded through his voice when he asked, “It’s past lunchtime. You don’t remember anything from last night?”
Now Travis was getting concerned because the only thing he remembered was how soft Beck’s hands were as they cradled his face. Which although a nice memory wasn’t exactly helpful. Travis cleared his throat knowing he was blushing but he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. “I remember you rescuing me? After that it gets fuzzy.”
Looking extremely worried now, Beck leaned over and placed a hand against his forehead, before shaking his head, “You’re a little flushed but it doesn’t feel like you’re running a fever. I brought you back here afterwards. I would’ve taken you to the hospital but I wasn’t sure what mess you had gotten yourself into so I didn’t want to risk someplace public. So I asked a friend of mine who is a doctor to come and check you over.”
A vague memory drifted through the migraine that Travis was currently fighting, “A tall man with red hair?”
A relieved half-smile graced Beck’s face at Travis’ recall, “Yeah he asked a few questions which at the time you were able to answer and he said you had a mild concussion. A few days rest and you should be fine.”
Travis started to nod his head but the movement sent another shot of pain through his head. Holding the side of his head to try to get the pain to stop he ground out an, “Okay. If you can give me a ride home…”
“No,” Beck interrupted.
“No? What do you mean no?” Travis asked indignantly.
“You are not leaving this house until you are better and until I know for sure that those men won’t still be looking for you,” Beck stated in his no nonsense voice that always drove Travis crazy in both bad and good ways.
When Travis opened his mouth to object just on principal Beck held up a finger and said, “This is nonnegotiable. Do I need to give you the options?”
Travis managed to stop himself just in time from shaking his head, and he said sullenly, “No.”
“Good. Now eat up and then you can rest or watch TV but you are not going to leave this bed for at least the next twenty-four hours,” Beck said, his tone softening a bit at Travis’ capitulation.
The temptation to make a dirty joke about how Beck could keep him in bed quite easily was on the tip of his tongue but at that moment his stomach made an embarrassingly loud noise. For the first time Travis noticed what else was on the tray in his lap and tucked into a delicious looking omelet.
Under Beck’s watchful gaze Travis was able to eat half of the meal in front of him before calling it quits. Beck took the tray away and then brought back a couple of painkillers the doc had left. Travis took the pills gratefully washing them down with the now lukewarm coffee. Beck grilled him for a few minutes about what had happened and who had taken him. Travis gave Beck the play-by-play and how for once it wasn’t his fault.
Beck snorted in irritation and then said, “You are the unluckiest son of a bitch I have ever met. I’m gonna go make some calls and see if I can figure out a way to call off the manhunt for you,” Shaking his head in exasperation, he left muttering under his breath sounding deeply unhappy, “A real trouble magnet.”
Travis wasn’t sleepy so he turned on the television, setting the volume to low and settled in to watch his daily soaps. Beck returned a half-hour later and surprised him when he told him to budge over and sat down next to him on the bed.
Travis was immediately distracted, although he stared straight ahead like the soap opera on the television was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. He could feel the warmth of Beck next to him and he wanted nothing more than to lean slightly over and rest his head on Beck’s broad, well-defined shoulder.
“I got a hold of those two goons’ boss,” Beck said after a few minutes.
That got Travis to turn his head and look at Beck. He gulped nervously and asked, “What did he say?”
Beck smiled at him reassuringly, “I let him know exactly whose son those idiots had kidnapped and he immediately said he would take care of it and apologized profusely.”
“I guess being Billy’s son was a good thing for once,” Travis said a bit bitterly.
“Hey,” Beck said, sympathy laced through the single word as he laid a hand on Travis’ knee.
Travis shrugged gingerly and said, “It’s okay I’ve mostly accepted it.” Travis was tempted to put his hand over Beck’s but he mired in indecision until it was too late and Beck moved his hand back into his lap. Travis cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool, because he knew better then to go down that road.
It had been a few years since their El Gato adventure and at first Travis had assumed Beck would be all too happy to wash his hands of him. But they had stayed in touch and Travis had even helped Beck with the process of starting up his restaurant. Beck would actually ask his opinion about the décor or have him over for taste testing and seemed to value Travis’ input, which was something of a rarity for Travis and just made him fall in love all the more. Travis had even been there on opening night and at least one night a week ever since. He would park himself at the bar waiting on Beck to join him when he had a spare moment. Beck would also help Travis with his quests to obscure libraries and museums to find clues to rare artifacts that he was trying to locate. To Travis’ surprise they had become real friends, which was one of the main reasons Travis kept his love for Beck to himself. Travis didn’t have too many friends and he didn’t want to mess up the one good relationship in his life trying to get more.
Beck was surprisingly into the drama playing out on television and even peppered Travis with questions, which he gladly answered. He loved watching the expressions flittered over the older man’s face as he went from worried, to shocked, to indignant on the beleaguered character’s behalf.
Without taking his eyes off the screen, Beck said distractedly, “So this show is on every afternoon?”
Travis couldn’t help the wide smile or the chuckle that escaped before he said, “Yeah big guy, Monday through Friday.”
The laughter finally broke Beck’s attention from the screen to Travis, and asked a bit defensively “What?”
Trying to curb his smile with little success, Travis said, “I don’t know. I would’ve thought soap operas would be a bit too lowbrow for you. I’d have pegged you for I don’t know art house movies or something.”
Beck smirked and said, “A man can’t live on steak alone.”
Travis was going to make some sarcastic comment, but then he caught Beck’s gaze. Beck’s dark brown eyes were one of the man’s best features, they were hypnotizing, and Travis felt himself get lost in their warm depths. When he saw Beck’s gaze flicker down briefly to his lips Travis leaned forward and Beck did the same…
Ring…Ring…
Travis jumped back as Beck’s phone went off, his heart racing a mile a minute. Beck had swung himself off the bed looking just as unsettled as Travis felt.
Beck looked down at his phone and then answered it, his voice breathless, “Hello?”
“What!?!, okay calm down. I’ll be right there,” Beck said, before pulling the phone away from his ear and looking over to Travis and saying distractedly, “I’m sorry there is an emergency at the restaurant…I don’t want to leave but…”
Travis definitely needed a moment to himself so waved away his concern, “No go, I’ll be fine.”
Beck hesitated, and then nodded saying, “If you need anything just call me.” Then he put the phone back to his ear and started yelling instructions to some poor employee on the other line.
Without the presence of Beck in the room to distract him Travis started to feel all the aches and pain from yesterday’s misadventure. The more TV he watched the bigger his headache seemed to get. Eventually the noise felt like it was drilling a hole straight into his brain and Travis turned it off. It took him a couple of minutes to get out of bed as his stiff pained-filled muscles protested every movement. Finally he made it to the bathroom, took care of his business and then returned to the bedroom. Travis sank gratefully into the mattress already worn out. Squinting at the clock, Travis saw he had been up for only a few hours but he could already feel his eyelids drooping as a wave of exhaustion swept over him. Realizing he didn’t have to fight it as there was nowhere else he would rather be than here; Travis closed his eyes and fell asleep.
~The Rundown~
The smaller of the two men slowly screwed in the silencer on his gun, his face devoid of any expression. Looking down in a panic, Travis tried to break his bonds by twisting his arms but the ropes kept getting tighter and tighter against his wrists until blood streamed down in rivets. When he looked back up instead of the two goons staring down at him it was his father and Hatcher.
Travis’ heart sped up, as he cried out, “No!”
They sneered down at him as Billy raised the gun and pointed it at his head saying, “You were always a disappointment. This is really for the best.”
He watched as Billy’s finger tightened on the trigger…
“Travis wake up!…Travis…sweetheart please.”
Travis jerked awake with a shout, and then tried desperately to get away from the hand gripping his shoulder. Scrambling backward across the bed until he almost fell off the other side. He was only saved by a hand grabbing his ankle and pulling him back, keeping him from hitting the wooden floor in his panic.
As he was pulled, Travis could feel his already rapid breathing pick up, as the panic and fear from his nightmare seeped into the real world. Unable to completely let go of the image of his father standing over him with a gun Travis pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried desperately to get a hold of himself. It had been a long time since he had a panic attack but he could feel himself on the cusp of one now.
The gentlest touch of a hand on his head and he heard a voice say, “It’s okay Travis. You’re alright.”
It was then that Travis realized who was comforting him. Beck
The older man sat down next to him as he continued to reassure Travis in a soft gentle voice. Without giving himself time to think about it Travis met Beck’s eyes and what he saw there gave him the courage to pull Beck down onto the bed with him. Beck curled himself around Travis. His knees tucked up against the back of Travis’s and Beck's arm wrapped around his torso pulling him tightly against his chest. The words of reassurance from Beck never stopped; they continued on even more tenderly whispered out against the nape of his neck.
Travis tried to will himself to stop shaking, to calm down, but his body wouldn’t listen to him and he continued to tremble. “I’m…sorry. I…can’t stop…shaking.”
Beck gave him a gentle squeeze, and said, “It’s okay. It is probably a bit of delayed shock from yesterday. Topped off with what sounded like a hell of a nightmare.”
“Yeah, it was…it was a dozy,” Travis whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Beck whispered back.
Travis shook his head and said softly, “Distract me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Have I ever told you about my cabin up in the mountains?” Beck asked his voice low and rough.
Travis was surprised he had never heard of Beck owning anything other than the restaurant, “No.”
“I inherited it from my great aunt a few years ago. It is a one room cabin tucked back along a long dirt road surrounded by trees,” Beck said.
Travis closed his eyes and he let the picture Beck was painting wash over him of a quaint log cabin that had a river running through a meadow just behind the house. As the older man continued to speak he told Travis a few stories about the times Beck had spent up there over the years; Travis’ trembling eased until he was at last still. His muscles felt like jelly and he was sleepy so Travis had to force his eyes open because he didn’t want to sleep and miss a moment in Beck’s arms.
When the silence lengthened Travis cleared his throat and said, “It sounds like paradise.”
“It is,” Beck paused and then continued his voice thick with emotion and a bit unsure, “We could go there tomorrow and spend a couple of days.”
Turning in Beck’s arms, Travis met Beck’s gentle gaze a sense of wonder spreading through him and asked, “What about the restaurant?”
“They can do without me for a few days,” Beck said, before he reached up and tenderly gripped the back of Travis’ neck and then continued his voice low and full of tenderness, “Come away with me.”
Travis answered by surging forward and seizing Beck’s lips with his own. As their kiss deepened Beck pulled Travis in close and they tangled their legs together. It was everything Travis had ever wanted but the kiss tugged at his split lip he couldn’t help but to grasp.
Beck drew back with a look of chagrin, “I’m sorry. We should stop until you are better.”
“Don’t apologize I've wanted to do that since South America,” Travis said, before leaning back in and kissing Beck again, a bit more gently this time.
Beck returned the kiss and then pulled back, “South America huh?”
Travis could feel himself blushing, “What can I say you make a big impression.” Travis waggled his eyebrows theatrically and then went in for another kiss.
Beck obliged and proceeded to kiss Travis very thoroughly until his hands accidentally brushed against a bruise along Travis ribs. This time it was Travis who withdrew and said eyes downcast, “Maybe you’re right.”
He must have looked as disappointed as he felt, because Beck said, “Hey look at me.” When Travis met his eyes Beck said gently, “We have time.”
Travis felt a surge of almost overwhelming affection for the man before him and asked, “We do?”
Beck rolled onto his back and Travis settled against his side resting his head on Beck’s chest, and heard him rumble out, “Starting tonight we have all the time in the world.”
Travis smiled and pressed a kiss against Beck’s bare chest in response. The warmth of Beck’s embrace and the sound of his heartbeat soothed Travis to sleep, this time dreaming of a cabin nestled in a grove of trees and two men walking hand in hand.
The End
This entry was originally posted at https://under-the-silk-tree.dreamwidth.org/74338.html
Gingerly shaking his head trying to shake loose his foggy memory, Travis wondered how his luck was so bad he had ended up tied to a chair in what he could only assume was some rich guy’s basement considering the size of it. The last thing he remembered was being grabbed outside of a local diner where he had been going to meet a friend for lunch. A vague memory of the smell of chloroform and then he had woken up in a dark, damp cellar with two strangers who began to question him. They were calling him Reese for some reason and when they didn’t like his answers they had begun to punctuate their questions with their fists.
“Reese, just tell us where the money is and this can all stop,” said the greasy man standing in front of Travis. The man questioning him was tall and skinny, like skeletally thin to the point that Travis wanted to offer to buy the other man some pizza or something just so he would get some calories. Travis was pleased to see that the knuckles on one hand of the scrawny man had split on the last hit, so at least the man was somewhat sharing in his pain. The other goon was almost comically the opposite of his partner, he was short and almost round in shape. Neither seemed like the sharpest tool in the shed.
Even though it hurt to move, Travis couldn’t help sitting up a bit straighter and rolling his eyes before saying, “Once again, I am not this Reese character. My name is Travis and I definitely do not have your money.”
“Reese, don’t play dumb,” the man continued like Travis hadn’t said anything. “We know you took the money your pal Georgie told us so.”
Travis shook his head and smirked up at the looming man, or at least tried too, his rapidly swelling eye and split lip made it difficult and said, “I don’t even know anyone named Georgie. Look in my wallet you’ll find a grand total of twenty dollars and my I.D. You’ll see my name is Travis Walker. Here I’ll spell it for you as it seems like you’re not too smart, T-r-a-v-i-s W-a-l…”
In hindsight, Travis should’ve expected the punch to the gut, not that it would have stopped his sarcastic diatribe because he has never been good at controlling his mouth, but he would have at least been ready for it. As he desperately tried to suck in his next breath around the radiating pain in his stomach, Travis felt one of the duo lean him forward and snag his wallet from his back pocket. Just when he was starting to panic his lungs remembered that the rest of his body needed air and he was finally able to draw in a deep breath.
The two men had stepped to one side and started to paw through his wallet. Watching as various credit and business cards hit the floor, Travis couldn’t help the hey that escaped from his mouth nor could he duck the backhand he received for his indignation.
The sharp pain that went through his head caused a rolling tide of nausea to crawl up his throat and he had to swallow hard a couple of times. He had a feeling if he threw up all over himself he would earn another couple of hits. For the first time Travis noticed that his vision had gone a little bit blurry and he wondered vaguely if he had a concussion. His eyelids felt heavy as he slowly slumped forward, Travis couldn’t help letting himself drift, he felt so sleepy all of the sudden, until a few words of the muffled argument off to his right caught his attention.
“Look at this…”
“Shit you grabbed the wrong guy…”
“Don’t blame me I only do what I’m told and Georgie said this was the guy…”
“Well the boss is going to be pissed. Not only that but now we have to get rid of this one and still find Reese and the bosses’ money.”
Travis tried to get his uncooperative muscles to sit him back up and pay attention, but his whole body felt like jelly. Finally he was able to prop himself up on one elbow and slurred out, “Hey…I’m a reasonable guy I under…understand mistakes happen. You can drop me off anywhere and I can make my own way home.”
The skinny one laughed like what Travis had said was the funniest thing he had heard in a long while. The cruel sound sent a shiver of fear down his spine.
Finally the man stopped laughing and said a little breathlessly, “Yeah, right. No you’re headed for a one way trip,” and then almost as an afterthought shrugged and said, “Sorry.”
“You seem real broken up about it,” Travis muttered as he watched with growing dread as the rotund man grabbed a tarp off of a storage rack next to the stairs.
“Come on guys. I swear I won’t say a word,” Travis ground out as he struggled against the ropes on his wrists. He felt the nylon cord cut into his skin but he no longer cared about the pain.
His plea got a snort out of one of the goons but as their backs were turned as they spread the tarp out onto the floor Travis couldn’t tell which one it was. He had been in many scraps and in quite a few situations he honestly shouldn’t have lived through but somehow he had come out of them alive. Now he was going to be killed by a nameless two bit hood not because of anything he had done personally but because he had been mistaken for someone else.
Travis felt his fear tip over into panic as the shorter of the two men took a gun from his holster and started to twist on a silencer. He had always heard that your life flashed before your eyes right before you die. But for him it was less like a movie reel and more like flashes, his mom smiling down at him, his father angry his hand raised, their adventure with Mariana, and finally Beck the person that featured in most of his thoughts and dreams lately. As the gunman brought the glock up and Travis screwed his eyes closed, regret filling him that he would never be able to tell the man he loved how he felt.
Instead of a gunshot, Travis heard a loud explosion overhead.
Opening his eyes in surprise, Travis saw the two goons looking at the ceiling as a series of bangs and muffled curses could be heard, followed by what sounded like gunshots.
Then he knew.
Now it was his turn to laugh when the men looked at him quizzically, Travis couldn’t help crowing, “You guys are so screwed! Do you know who I was meeting for lunch when you grabbed me?”
They looked down at him and mutely shook their heads as the noises continued and grew louder above.
“That,” Travis exclaimed with triumph, looking up toward the basement door just as it was kicked in and silhouetted in the doorway was a rather familiar looking man, “is Beck.”
Beck charged down the stairs, the look on his face was murderous.
The skinny man brought his gun up and Travis tipped his chair forward knocking into the back of the gunman’s legs causing him to stumble, his gun skidding across the floor. Travis hit the ground with a pained grunt but his agony was worth it as it gave Beck enough time to reach the bottom of the stairs and land the first punch straight across the jaw of the shorter man. One hit was all it took to lay him out and then Beck hauled the skinny man off the floor and delivered another serious of punches that soon had him incapacitated.
Beck dropped the now unconscious man and quickly ran over to Travis and picked the chair back up. “Are you okay?” Beck asked as he started to lose his bonds.
“What kind of question….No of course I’m not okay. I was kidnapped…tied…tied to a chair and worked over…all because they thought I was someone else,” Travis said his words felt slow and thick on his tongue. The blurriness of his vision was getting worse and he squinted up at Beck trying to tell him how happy he was to see him but he suddenly couldn’t get his mouth to corporate.
“Travis?” Beck asked, his voice sounded strained with worry, as he crouched down in front of him.
Maybe it was the concussion making him see things but Travis could’ve sworn that Beck cradled his face and gently caressed his cheek with his thumb and a tender look on his face while saying his name with increasing urgency. He tried to keep his eyes from closing wanting to stay in this reality where Beck seemed to care a lot about him but his head hurt too much and he slowly slipped free from consciousness.
~The Rundown~
Travis woke slowly. First there was the sensation of cool sheets against his skin, and that had him slowly stretching out wincing slightly when the movement pulled at some of the bruises. Then there was the delicious smell of coffee wafting in from somewhere close, and he could tell just from the aroma it was the good kind, not the cheap instant crap he had back at his tiny apartment. There was also music playing, the sound far off and muffled.
From the feel of the thread count on the sheets, and smell of what was undoubtedly expensive coffee he was most definitely not at his place. Unfortunately he was going to have to open his eyes in order to figure out anymore than that. Considering his head felt like he had gone ten rounds with Ali, Travis had a really bad feeling that he was in for a world of hurt. Finally he cracked his eyes open and immediately slammed them closed again as the bright sunlight felt like a laser straight to his brain. From the brief glimpse of the vaguely familiar guest room Travis knew he was at Beck’s house. Telling himself to stop being a wuss Travis opened his eyes and forced himself to keep them open.
It hurt no less the second time but he was able to breathe through the pain and he struggled to sit up wanting to take stock after everything that happened. Finally managing to sit up and lean gingerly against the padded headboard, Travis pulled the blankets up onto his lap and noticed for the first time his wrists were bandaged. Running a finger lightly over the white cloth the memory of his struggle against his bonds as the gun was pointed at his head crowded in and he quickly moved on to his other injuries. His stomach was still tender, and from a brief glance at the standing mirror next to the bed he could see he had quite the shiner and split lip. Plus every muscle in his body was stiff and aching. Just as he was wondering if he could force himself out of bed long enough to find a bathroom the door opened.
Beck came in with a tray and looked surprised to see him awake, “Hey you’re up. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a mac track,” Travis groused, grabbing the cup of coffee off the tray that Beck placed on his lap. Taking a small sip, he immediately regretted it as the hot coffee burned his mouth and caused the split in his lip to ache, Travis set the mug back down and asked, “What time is it? And what happened after I passed out?”
Beck grabbed the chair from the desk and placed it next to the bed. His eyebrows crinkled up in concern and worry threaded through his voice when he asked, “It’s past lunchtime. You don’t remember anything from last night?”
Now Travis was getting concerned because the only thing he remembered was how soft Beck’s hands were as they cradled his face. Which although a nice memory wasn’t exactly helpful. Travis cleared his throat knowing he was blushing but he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. “I remember you rescuing me? After that it gets fuzzy.”
Looking extremely worried now, Beck leaned over and placed a hand against his forehead, before shaking his head, “You’re a little flushed but it doesn’t feel like you’re running a fever. I brought you back here afterwards. I would’ve taken you to the hospital but I wasn’t sure what mess you had gotten yourself into so I didn’t want to risk someplace public. So I asked a friend of mine who is a doctor to come and check you over.”
A vague memory drifted through the migraine that Travis was currently fighting, “A tall man with red hair?”
A relieved half-smile graced Beck’s face at Travis’ recall, “Yeah he asked a few questions which at the time you were able to answer and he said you had a mild concussion. A few days rest and you should be fine.”
Travis started to nod his head but the movement sent another shot of pain through his head. Holding the side of his head to try to get the pain to stop he ground out an, “Okay. If you can give me a ride home…”
“No,” Beck interrupted.
“No? What do you mean no?” Travis asked indignantly.
“You are not leaving this house until you are better and until I know for sure that those men won’t still be looking for you,” Beck stated in his no nonsense voice that always drove Travis crazy in both bad and good ways.
When Travis opened his mouth to object just on principal Beck held up a finger and said, “This is nonnegotiable. Do I need to give you the options?”
Travis managed to stop himself just in time from shaking his head, and he said sullenly, “No.”
“Good. Now eat up and then you can rest or watch TV but you are not going to leave this bed for at least the next twenty-four hours,” Beck said, his tone softening a bit at Travis’ capitulation.
The temptation to make a dirty joke about how Beck could keep him in bed quite easily was on the tip of his tongue but at that moment his stomach made an embarrassingly loud noise. For the first time Travis noticed what else was on the tray in his lap and tucked into a delicious looking omelet.
Under Beck’s watchful gaze Travis was able to eat half of the meal in front of him before calling it quits. Beck took the tray away and then brought back a couple of painkillers the doc had left. Travis took the pills gratefully washing them down with the now lukewarm coffee. Beck grilled him for a few minutes about what had happened and who had taken him. Travis gave Beck the play-by-play and how for once it wasn’t his fault.
Beck snorted in irritation and then said, “You are the unluckiest son of a bitch I have ever met. I’m gonna go make some calls and see if I can figure out a way to call off the manhunt for you,” Shaking his head in exasperation, he left muttering under his breath sounding deeply unhappy, “A real trouble magnet.”
Travis wasn’t sleepy so he turned on the television, setting the volume to low and settled in to watch his daily soaps. Beck returned a half-hour later and surprised him when he told him to budge over and sat down next to him on the bed.
Travis was immediately distracted, although he stared straight ahead like the soap opera on the television was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. He could feel the warmth of Beck next to him and he wanted nothing more than to lean slightly over and rest his head on Beck’s broad, well-defined shoulder.
“I got a hold of those two goons’ boss,” Beck said after a few minutes.
That got Travis to turn his head and look at Beck. He gulped nervously and asked, “What did he say?”
Beck smiled at him reassuringly, “I let him know exactly whose son those idiots had kidnapped and he immediately said he would take care of it and apologized profusely.”
“I guess being Billy’s son was a good thing for once,” Travis said a bit bitterly.
“Hey,” Beck said, sympathy laced through the single word as he laid a hand on Travis’ knee.
Travis shrugged gingerly and said, “It’s okay I’ve mostly accepted it.” Travis was tempted to put his hand over Beck’s but he mired in indecision until it was too late and Beck moved his hand back into his lap. Travis cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool, because he knew better then to go down that road.
It had been a few years since their El Gato adventure and at first Travis had assumed Beck would be all too happy to wash his hands of him. But they had stayed in touch and Travis had even helped Beck with the process of starting up his restaurant. Beck would actually ask his opinion about the décor or have him over for taste testing and seemed to value Travis’ input, which was something of a rarity for Travis and just made him fall in love all the more. Travis had even been there on opening night and at least one night a week ever since. He would park himself at the bar waiting on Beck to join him when he had a spare moment. Beck would also help Travis with his quests to obscure libraries and museums to find clues to rare artifacts that he was trying to locate. To Travis’ surprise they had become real friends, which was one of the main reasons Travis kept his love for Beck to himself. Travis didn’t have too many friends and he didn’t want to mess up the one good relationship in his life trying to get more.
Beck was surprisingly into the drama playing out on television and even peppered Travis with questions, which he gladly answered. He loved watching the expressions flittered over the older man’s face as he went from worried, to shocked, to indignant on the beleaguered character’s behalf.
Without taking his eyes off the screen, Beck said distractedly, “So this show is on every afternoon?”
Travis couldn’t help the wide smile or the chuckle that escaped before he said, “Yeah big guy, Monday through Friday.”
The laughter finally broke Beck’s attention from the screen to Travis, and asked a bit defensively “What?”
Trying to curb his smile with little success, Travis said, “I don’t know. I would’ve thought soap operas would be a bit too lowbrow for you. I’d have pegged you for I don’t know art house movies or something.”
Beck smirked and said, “A man can’t live on steak alone.”
Travis was going to make some sarcastic comment, but then he caught Beck’s gaze. Beck’s dark brown eyes were one of the man’s best features, they were hypnotizing, and Travis felt himself get lost in their warm depths. When he saw Beck’s gaze flicker down briefly to his lips Travis leaned forward and Beck did the same…
Ring…Ring…
Travis jumped back as Beck’s phone went off, his heart racing a mile a minute. Beck had swung himself off the bed looking just as unsettled as Travis felt.
Beck looked down at his phone and then answered it, his voice breathless, “Hello?”
“What!?!, okay calm down. I’ll be right there,” Beck said, before pulling the phone away from his ear and looking over to Travis and saying distractedly, “I’m sorry there is an emergency at the restaurant…I don’t want to leave but…”
Travis definitely needed a moment to himself so waved away his concern, “No go, I’ll be fine.”
Beck hesitated, and then nodded saying, “If you need anything just call me.” Then he put the phone back to his ear and started yelling instructions to some poor employee on the other line.
Without the presence of Beck in the room to distract him Travis started to feel all the aches and pain from yesterday’s misadventure. The more TV he watched the bigger his headache seemed to get. Eventually the noise felt like it was drilling a hole straight into his brain and Travis turned it off. It took him a couple of minutes to get out of bed as his stiff pained-filled muscles protested every movement. Finally he made it to the bathroom, took care of his business and then returned to the bedroom. Travis sank gratefully into the mattress already worn out. Squinting at the clock, Travis saw he had been up for only a few hours but he could already feel his eyelids drooping as a wave of exhaustion swept over him. Realizing he didn’t have to fight it as there was nowhere else he would rather be than here; Travis closed his eyes and fell asleep.
~The Rundown~
The smaller of the two men slowly screwed in the silencer on his gun, his face devoid of any expression. Looking down in a panic, Travis tried to break his bonds by twisting his arms but the ropes kept getting tighter and tighter against his wrists until blood streamed down in rivets. When he looked back up instead of the two goons staring down at him it was his father and Hatcher.
Travis’ heart sped up, as he cried out, “No!”
They sneered down at him as Billy raised the gun and pointed it at his head saying, “You were always a disappointment. This is really for the best.”
He watched as Billy’s finger tightened on the trigger…
“Travis wake up!…Travis…sweetheart please.”
Travis jerked awake with a shout, and then tried desperately to get away from the hand gripping his shoulder. Scrambling backward across the bed until he almost fell off the other side. He was only saved by a hand grabbing his ankle and pulling him back, keeping him from hitting the wooden floor in his panic.
As he was pulled, Travis could feel his already rapid breathing pick up, as the panic and fear from his nightmare seeped into the real world. Unable to completely let go of the image of his father standing over him with a gun Travis pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried desperately to get a hold of himself. It had been a long time since he had a panic attack but he could feel himself on the cusp of one now.
The gentlest touch of a hand on his head and he heard a voice say, “It’s okay Travis. You’re alright.”
It was then that Travis realized who was comforting him. Beck
The older man sat down next to him as he continued to reassure Travis in a soft gentle voice. Without giving himself time to think about it Travis met Beck’s eyes and what he saw there gave him the courage to pull Beck down onto the bed with him. Beck curled himself around Travis. His knees tucked up against the back of Travis’s and Beck's arm wrapped around his torso pulling him tightly against his chest. The words of reassurance from Beck never stopped; they continued on even more tenderly whispered out against the nape of his neck.
Travis tried to will himself to stop shaking, to calm down, but his body wouldn’t listen to him and he continued to tremble. “I’m…sorry. I…can’t stop…shaking.”
Beck gave him a gentle squeeze, and said, “It’s okay. It is probably a bit of delayed shock from yesterday. Topped off with what sounded like a hell of a nightmare.”
“Yeah, it was…it was a dozy,” Travis whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Beck whispered back.
Travis shook his head and said softly, “Distract me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Have I ever told you about my cabin up in the mountains?” Beck asked his voice low and rough.
Travis was surprised he had never heard of Beck owning anything other than the restaurant, “No.”
“I inherited it from my great aunt a few years ago. It is a one room cabin tucked back along a long dirt road surrounded by trees,” Beck said.
Travis closed his eyes and he let the picture Beck was painting wash over him of a quaint log cabin that had a river running through a meadow just behind the house. As the older man continued to speak he told Travis a few stories about the times Beck had spent up there over the years; Travis’ trembling eased until he was at last still. His muscles felt like jelly and he was sleepy so Travis had to force his eyes open because he didn’t want to sleep and miss a moment in Beck’s arms.
When the silence lengthened Travis cleared his throat and said, “It sounds like paradise.”
“It is,” Beck paused and then continued his voice thick with emotion and a bit unsure, “We could go there tomorrow and spend a couple of days.”
Turning in Beck’s arms, Travis met Beck’s gentle gaze a sense of wonder spreading through him and asked, “What about the restaurant?”
“They can do without me for a few days,” Beck said, before he reached up and tenderly gripped the back of Travis’ neck and then continued his voice low and full of tenderness, “Come away with me.”
Travis answered by surging forward and seizing Beck’s lips with his own. As their kiss deepened Beck pulled Travis in close and they tangled their legs together. It was everything Travis had ever wanted but the kiss tugged at his split lip he couldn’t help but to grasp.
Beck drew back with a look of chagrin, “I’m sorry. We should stop until you are better.”
“Don’t apologize I've wanted to do that since South America,” Travis said, before leaning back in and kissing Beck again, a bit more gently this time.
Beck returned the kiss and then pulled back, “South America huh?”
Travis could feel himself blushing, “What can I say you make a big impression.” Travis waggled his eyebrows theatrically and then went in for another kiss.
Beck obliged and proceeded to kiss Travis very thoroughly until his hands accidentally brushed against a bruise along Travis ribs. This time it was Travis who withdrew and said eyes downcast, “Maybe you’re right.”
He must have looked as disappointed as he felt, because Beck said, “Hey look at me.” When Travis met his eyes Beck said gently, “We have time.”
Travis felt a surge of almost overwhelming affection for the man before him and asked, “We do?”
Beck rolled onto his back and Travis settled against his side resting his head on Beck’s chest, and heard him rumble out, “Starting tonight we have all the time in the world.”
Travis smiled and pressed a kiss against Beck’s bare chest in response. The warmth of Beck’s embrace and the sound of his heartbeat soothed Travis to sleep, this time dreaming of a cabin nestled in a grove of trees and two men walking hand in hand.
The End
This entry was originally posted at https://under-the-silk-tree.dreamwidth.org/74338.html