Fic: One More Cup of Coffee, part four
Title: One More Cup of Coffee
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
All Tony was aware of was the pain and the heat. He thought he could hear voices, familiar voices at that, but he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. One of them sounded like Control, but then he heard the man laugh and something deep in his chest broke at the sound. Because no matter how much the voice had sounded like Control, the laugh proved otherwise.
Then the last few moments from before he lost consciousness returned violently, and Tony had to bite back a scream. He had been so certain that he knew what he was doing, that he could identify Control no matter what the circumstances were. And he had apparently been mistaken. He had shot the wrong man.
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore his surroundings completely as he fought back tears. But then he heard something that made his blood run cold.
'There are places I remember
all my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better.
Some have gone, and some remain.
All these places have their moments
Of lovers and friends I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living.
In my life, I've loved them all.'
He very nearly whimpered. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't be. And yet, it apparently was. His throat tightened, and no matter how hard he tried, Tony simply could not manage to take a single deep breath. His chest ached from the effort of trying so hard to breath, and his head began to swim. Then he heard something that seemed to cut right through the sound of Sullivan's singing, making the terror-inducing noise fade almost into nothingness.
"I am so sorry, Tony. I shouldn't have let them send you undercover like that with no backup and no information. I never would have allowed you to go had I any idea that this was going to happen to you. Please wake up so that I can apologize to you properly."
It certainly sounded like Control, and there was no way that Tony could mistake the voice for Control's brother. The knowledge that Control apparently wasn't dead after all helped Tony to calm down, and finally he was able to breath without too much effort. The panic receding also allowed him to think a bit more clearly, and he finally came to a realization.
If Control was alive, then that meant that he had indeed shot Control's brother. If he had shot Control's brother, which he had already decided that he had, then Control's brother could not be there. And if Control's brother wasn't actually there after all, then nothing he was hearing was real. And if nothing he was hearing was real, then Sullivan wasn't actually there either.
With that thought, the sounds of singing faded completely, and Tony slipped back into a more welcoming darkness.
* * *
Philip had finally finished bandaging Tony, and Control couldn't help but think that the other man looked a bit like an Egyptian mummy, though he didn't like to follow that particular thought to its logical conclusion. After all, Tony wasn't dead and Control was going to make certain personally that he didn't become so for a good, long while. With the amount of trouble that Tony could find himself accidentally getting into, it looked to be a full-time occupation for Control, but he didn't mind. In fact, if he were being completely honest, he rather liked the idea of looking after Tony. Tony certainly did a good job of looking after him.
Control shook his head to clear his thoughts and leaned forward to pull the light blanket a bit higher on Tony's chest. The other man was still dressed in only his boxers, and it wouldn't do for him to get cold. Plus, on a purely selfish note, the blanket helped to hide the true extent of the damage that had been done to Tony, and Control didn't particularly want to see it. Partially because he wanted to hunt down every man who had helped to put those marks on Tony and do incredibly violent things to them, and Control didn't like that feeling.
He blinked, suddenly realizing that he had been running his fingers lightly through Tony's hair without thinking. He froze when Tony shifted, head pushing slightly into Control's touch, then carefully began moving his fingers again. When he saw Tony's lips curl up slightly he let out a soft sigh of relief. In his own small way he was helping Tony, making the other man feel at least a little bit better even while still unconscious.
And that feeling he liked rather a lot.
* * *
This time Tony was fairly certain that he was dreaming. And unlike the last time, he rather wished that he wasn't. This he wanted to be real.
He was sitting in what he thought was Control's dining room, though he had never actually been in Control's dining room before so he couldn't be certain. This was how he thought that it would look, though. The table was a lovely dark wood, covered in a simple white tablecloth. The light in the room was muted without being too dark, and there were two white candles in silver holders in the middle of the table.
Soft music was playing in the background, though Tony couldn't identify what either the song or the artist were. He could smell something delicious and mouth-watering coming from in the kitchen, and then he could see Control standing in the doorway wearing a frilly apron over his dress shirt and a slightly embarrassed smile.
Tony rose from his seat on impulse and walked slowly over to Control, bolder than he would have been able to be had it been real. He placed one hand on Control's shoulder and the other on his chest. Then he leaned forward for a kiss.
A moment before their lips would have touched Control stiffened in his arms, a pained grunt escaping his lips. Then his weight fell against Tony, who automatically put his arms around Control to hold him up. Tony frowned when he felt a sticky wetness on Control's back, and pulled his hand back around to look.
His eyes widened when he saw the bright red blood staining his fingers, and he looked up at Control in shock. The light was fading from Control's eyes, and he was going limp in Tony's arms. Then he seemed to vanish completely, leaving Tony alone in the room.
A moment later Tony heard a familiar laugh. He looked around frantically, but couldn't see anyone. The room was growing warmer and warmer until it was almost stiflingly hot, and the air was almost too thick to breathe. Suddenly, Control's brother was standing in front of Tony, a blood-stained knife in his hand.
"See what happened because of you, Tony? Control's going to be hurt one of these days, and it will be all your fault. You don't want that, do you, Tony?"
Tony shook his head automatically, trying his best not to listen to Oversight though the words still pricked his conscience a bit. Especially since the voice they were spoken in sounded so much like Control's.
"Of course you don't. Now, what are you going to do to make certain that you can't hurt him, hmm? What will you do to save him?"
Tony shook his head again violently, almost as if he were trying to shake Oversight's words loose. The heat was nearly all-encompassing, and everything seemed to blur around him, making him dizzy and slightly nauseous. And then, with Oversight's words still ringing in his ears, everything faded to black once more.
* * *
Control was still brushing Tony's hair back from his face when his fingers strayed onto Tony's forehead. He frowned at the heat he felt emanating from the other man, sliding his hand around to brush against Tony's cheeks as well, then down to his neck. He was entirely too hot, and Control rose to his feet and made his way into the kitchen where he looked around for a bowl and a clean towel.
Philip had left the flat less than an hour before in an attempt to check on the status of the clean-up that the two of them had left behind for other agents in their rush to get Tony to safety, and Control was alone in the flat except for the unconscious and now feverish Tony. Which meant that Control would have to try to take care of Tony himself.
He filled the bowl with cool water, trying to make sure that it wasn't too cold as he was fairly certain that too-cold water would be bad for Tony. Then he carefully carried it back out into the sitting room, sat the bowl on the coffee table and knelt on the floor next to the sofa where Tony was lying. He dipped the cloth in the water, wrung out the excess liquid and began to wipe down Tony's face and neck.
He grew more worried when Tony began to shift around, making soft distressed sounds as his head tossed back and forth. Finally he began wiping Tony's face with one hand while running the other through his hair, only stopping when he needed to wet the cloth and wring out the water again. And after a few minutes Tony started to calm down, though he still made those same soft sounds that almost broke Control's heart.
Eventually his temperature seemed to go down a bit. Control thought that Tony was still a bit feverish, but he had slipped into what seemed to be a more comfortable sleep and finally had stopped making those heartbreaking noises. Control would keep a close eye on him to make certain that he didn't get any worse again, but for the moment he would relax a bit.
Unfortunately, not having Tony's needs as an immediate focus gave him time to focus on all of the things that he would really rather not focus on. Things like his brother's sudden and violent betrayal, which he still couldn't understand. That same brother's death, which he still wasn't sure how he felt about. On the one hand the man had been his brother for his entire life. On the other hand his brother had kidnapped Tony and tortured him for days. And on the third hand, which Control didn't actually have and wasn't quite as important as the second hand anyway, his brother had tried to kill him.
Then there was Valerie's sudden and tragic death. He still wasn't sure just how he was going to tell Tony about that. After all, Tony had often worked more closely with Valerie than Control had. Many of the things that Valerie would normally have brought into his office in her role as his secretary Tony had intercepted and brought in for her. Before he had left for his assignment Tony had even given Valerie coffee-making lessons that he didn't think Control knew about.
And then there was Valerie's dying request that he tell Tony that she had loved him. He really didn't want to think about that, or about the fact that he had promised her that he would tell Tony. He didn't like to admit it, even to himself, but if it hadn't been for that promise he might very well have simply neglected to mention anything about it to Tony at all. After all, he didn't really think that finding out that Valerie had loved him would make him feel any better about her death. In fact, it very possibly would make things even worse.
He would tell Tony, since he had promised Valerie. But he would wait until Tony was recovered. The very last thing he wanted was to make Tony's condition any worse if it wasn't absolutely necessary.
Control glanced down at Tony again, slightly relieved to see that the almost perpetual frown that had been twisting Tony's lips was finally gone. He looked around the empty room for a long moment, then leaned down quickly and pressed his lips against Tony's forehead. He told himself that it was just to check Tony's temperature the way his mother had always done for him, but he knew it was a lie the moment he thought it.
He had simply wanted to be able to feel Tony's skin under his lips, to give himself a little bit of extra reassurance that Tony was present and safe, and had taken what he thought would probably be his only opportunity to find out what it felt like. He felt immediately guilty, mostly due to the idea that he was taking advantage of Tony.
But even his guilt couldn't erase the feel of Tony's slightly damp skin that still clung to his lips.
* * *
When Tony regained consciousness he was finally certain that he was actually awake, mostly due to the pain. His knee ached, though the painful throb from earlier was dulled somewhat, for which he was thankful. His chest and back were a mixture of aches and sharper pains, and his first attempt at a deep breath told him that his ribs had been wrapped, which meant that someone was finally taking care of his injuries.
His shoulder was also wrapped tightly, for which he was extremely grateful. He could remember intentionally dislocating it, and he knew from prior experience that it was going to be quite painful for a while yet. His head was throbbing in time with his pulse and he was feeling vaguely nauseous, which he knew meant that he had a concussion, a fact that wasn't in the least bit surprising considering the number of times that his head had come in violent contact with something hard in the past little while.
He felt someone's hand running gently through his hair, the repetitive motion helping to ease some of the pain in his head. He took a slow, shallow breath, the familiar blend of ink, pine and coffee that had always been Control to him lingering under his nose. With that he was finally able to completely relax, sinking bonelessly back into the sofa.
Control had indeed come to rescue him, and he was safe.
He kept his eyes closed, partly to keep his nausea down and partly so that Control wouldn't realize that he was awake and stop petting his hair. If Control knew that he was awake then he would more than likely get embarrassed about it, and Tony didn't want that. He rather liked it when Control ran his fingers through his hair, and he didn't want the other man to stop.
Eventually though Control removed his hand from Tony's head, and Tony could almost feel the concern that Control was sending him. He certainly didn't want to worry the other man, so he slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light. Then the brightness was gone, and Control was leaning over him with an almost painfully hopeful expression.
"Tony? How are you feeling, if you don't mind my asking?"
Tony couldn't suppress a small smile, even though it hurt his lower lip. He tried to speak, but his throat was terribly dry and he started to cough. Almost before he realized it, Control had dashed into the kitchen and come back with a glass of water which he held to Tony's mouth and gently tipped it up so that he could drink.
Tony suppressed a shiver at the inadvertent reminder of the woman who had done the same thing for him after he had been captured and slowly drank, eyes closing in relief as the wetness eased the discomfort in his throat.
"Thank you, Control. I feel quite a bit better now." He looked around the room, but didn't see anything familiar. "Where are we, if you can tell me, that is?"
Control frowned a bit at that. "Well, we are still in Germany, in a safe house. You still aren't in any shape to travel back to London, I'm afraid, and Philip and I were too concerned for your safety to take you to a hospital, though I will admit that when we first found you it looked rather like you might need one."
Tony blinked slowly, his pounding headache muddling his thoughts slightly. "Philip is here as well, Control?"
Control nodded. "Yes, Tony. When he realized that you had been kidnapped he remained here and organized the effort to locate you. He is the one who discovered that my brother was behind your capture, and together we were able to find out where you were being held." He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head and focused on Tony again. "Now, tell me honestly, Tony. How are you feeling?"
"Well, Control, my knee does hurt a bit, and so do my chest and back." He shifted slightly, wincing as the movement pulled on his shoulder. "My shoulder, while it seems that someone relocated it quite well, is still somewhat painful. And I have a concussion." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as the room began to slowly spin, making him feel a bit sick. "Control, it might be a good idea to get a bucket or something similar and place it on the floor near me. I fear that I may become ill in the not too distant future, and I would hate to make a mess."
Control hesitated for a moment, then reached forward and lightly patted Tony on his good shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Tony. I shall find something, and even if you did make a mess it wouldn't be your fault. You're not well, and your fever just recently came down to a safe temperature."
Tony simply watched Control look around the small flat for a bucket of some sort from his place on the sofa, trying to figure out just what it was that was making Control so fidgety. He doubted that anyone else would have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but he had spent enough time watching Control, without the other man's notice of course, that he felt he was something of an expert in Control's behavior. And the other man was acting decidedly nervous to Tony's way of thinking.
After a moment of thought, he finally decided what it must be. Control was uncomfortable being around him now that Tony had killed Control's brother, even if Oversight had been a traitor. The man was still Control's brother, after all, and Control couldn't be comfortable taking care of the man who had killed him, even if the action had saved Control's life.
He kept quiet as Control returned holding a plastic bucket in one hand and a fresh glass of water in the other. If he was correct in his suppositions then he had no idea what to say to the other man to make things right. He couldn't really apologize for killing Oversight as if he had it to do over again he was certain that he would not do anything differently. He was sorry that Control's brother was dead, but wasn't sorry that he had killed him. It was an odd dichotomy, and Tony didn't know the proper way to reconcile the two emotions.
It turned out that his worry over Control's state of mind was the last push his rather upset stomach needed, and he grabbed the bucket with his good hand as he pushed himself up to lean over the edge of the sofa and violently lost the rather small contents of his stomach.
Since he had eaten virtually nothing since his capture he was expelling mostly bile, which burned his throat and caused him to cough and choke. He kept his eyes closed as he heaved, tears wetting his lashes and then spilling down his cheeks. Eventually the cramps in his stomach lessened, and he felt the water glass being pressed to his lips.
"Here, Tony. Sip and spit until your mouth is rinsed out and then drink a bit to help your throat."
Tony did as instructed, nearly groaning in pleasure as Control took a slightly damp cloth and wiped his face, erasing all evidence of his tears. Then he flopped back onto the sofa, hissing slightly as the movement jarred his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his good arm coming up to cover them.
"Thank you, Control. I feel a bit better now."
Control patted his good shoulder again, then rose to his feet with the bucket and cloth. "I'm glad, Tony. You try to rest. I will be back in a moment."
Tony could hear Control puttering around in the kitchen, and despite his concern about the other man the sound helped to relax him. There was just something soothing in the idea of being taken care of by Control, and there always had been. He was almost dozing when his breath caught in his throat and his pulse began pounding in his ears as he finally remembered something.
While Oversight was dead and could no longer hurt him, Sullivan was still very much alive and as far as Tony knew, free as well. He had seen Sullivan slip out the door while Control and Oversight were fighting and he was fairly certain that the other man would not have gotten caught, not even by Philip and his men as good as they were at their jobs. He was simply too smart for that. After all, Sullivan had done it before.
But what frightened him the most was the absolute certainty that if Sullivan was still alive, free or not, he would be coming after him again. He had waited two entire years to find Tony again this time. He would be perfectly willing to wait once more.
Which meant that as long as Robert Sullivan was alive, Tony wasn't safe. And that meant that neither was Control, as Control had made it obvious that he was more than willing to do whatever was necessary to save Tony. So Sullivan would happily go through Control in order to get to Tony, and Tony could not let that happen.
His only problem now was trying to figure out just how he could keep Control safe without the other man knowing what he was doing, since if Control did discover Tony's plans he would most certainly not let him go through with them. Of course, Tony didn't actually have any plans yet, but the principle was still valid.
He sighed, shifting slightly on the sofa. It was then that he realized that he was shirtless, and after another quick wriggle realized that he was also missing his trousers. While he knew intellectually that in order for Control and Philip to have taken care of his injuries they would have had to undress him, he still found the idea that the two men had seen him in that state rather embarrassing, especially since he had been unconscious at the time. It wasn't that he was completely adverse to the idea of Control seeing him while not fully dressed, he just didn't care much for the circumstances, especially since Control would have seen Sullivan's rather distinctive 'artwork' And that was something that he would rather not have to explain.
He opened his eyes, starting slightly when he saw that Control was back and standing over him with an odd expression on his face. Control then bit his lip lightly and seemed to steel himself.
"Tony, I do hate to ask you this, but if you feel up to sitting for a bit, I rather need to check on the state of the cuts on your back and chest. While first aid is not my forte, Philip left me strict instructions on how I was to care for your injuries, and I need to make certain that you aren't bleeding into your bandages."
Well, that rather explained the expression on Control's face. Tony could feel his face heating with embarrassment as he struggled to sit up, the blush growing even hotter when he felt Control's hands on his bare skin as the other man helped him to sit up. Between the pain the movement caused and Control's hands on his sides Tony was hard pressed to keep his breathing relatively even.
Control started with the cuts on his chest, making distracted noises in the back of his throat as he checked for any bleeding. When he was satisfied, he helped Tony turn enough so that he could check his back, a fact that Tony was grateful for as it meant that Control could no longer see his red face. After a few minutes Control started to help him lie back down, but he stopped and ran his fingers gently over the scarred design carved into the skin at the back of Tony's neck.
Tony froze when he felt Control's fingertips tracing the design and almost forgot to breathe. The very last thing that he wanted was for Control to ask about that particular scar, but he was fairly certain that the other man was going to.
"Tony, I've noticed something rather worrying just now. I realize that you most likely don't wish to discuss anything that has happened since you were captured, but I can't help but notice that this scar on the back of your neck is very similar to the fresh cuts on your chest, specifically the ones right over your heart." He eased Tony back on the sofa, his concerned expression doing little to ease Tony's growing panic. "You don't have to say anything about it if you don't want to, Tony, but if you should then I would be more than willing to listen."
The air went out of Tony's lungs in a rush and then his throat tightened. There was simply no way that he would be able to tell Control about the matching scars as that would not only mean explaining how Control's brother had wanted to permanently mark him, but also explaining about Sullivan's place in not only this mission, but also his last mission. It would mean explaining things that Tony had done his level best for two years to forget.
His breathing started coming in shallow pants, his chest so tight that he simply could not get enough air no matter how he tried. Even the knowledge that he was having a panic attack did little to alleviate the situation. His vision started going dark as he wheezed, and then he felt himself being pulled forward into Control's arms. One of Control's hands rested on the back of his head while the other ran up and down his back gently, trying not to press too hard on any of the bandages.
Eventually the tightness in his chest loosened a bit, and Tony was finally able to take a deep breath, or at least as deep a breath as the wrapping around his ribs would allow. He slowly raised his head from where it had been resting on Control's shoulder, but he couldn't bring himself to meet the other man's eyes.
"It's all right, Tony. I'm not going to make you talk about it, especially if it is causing such a severe reaction. If there was something that I needed to know right now, though, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"
Tony paused for a long moment, then nodded. He still didn't really want to tell Control about Sullivan at all, but it would be safer for Control if he knew that there was still one of the ringleaders on the loose. Plus, there was no way that he could keep quiet after Control had asked him that. "There is one thing, Control. While your brother was one of the men behind my capture, he was not the only one. His partner managed to escape while you were...indisposed."
Control grimaced. "Thank you for telling me, Tony. Once Philip returns we shall see what information he has about any of the rogue agents who managed to escape. Though I doubt that we shall have anything to worry about."
Tony flinched, but didn't tell Control any differently. Explaining that Sullivan would come after him again would mean going into detail about what had happened two years ago, and Tony simply could not bring himself to do that, not even for Control. Not yet, anyway.
* * *
Tony dozed off and on for the rest of the night, never feeling quite comfortable and secure enough to get any solid sleep. Eventually he decided to simply lay on the couch with his eyes closed and try to rest even if he couldn't get any sleep. And about an hour later he had almost managed to fall asleep when Philip returned.
He kept his eyes closed, content to continue pretending that he was asleep while Control and Philip talked. It seemed that Philip's team had managed to round up most of the rogue agents that had been involved, which was certainly a good thing, though from what he was able to figure out Sullivan had disappeared without a trace.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and tried to focus on something a little less terrifying. After all, Philip and Control were there and he was perfectly safe for the moment. And he needed to rest and regain his strength, because he had the feeling that the whole sorry mess wasn't quite over just yet.
They stayed tucked up in the safe house for two more days, with only Philip ever venturing outside to check in with his team and make arrangements for getting Tony and Control back to England. Tony was quite impressed with Philip's ingenuity; the other man had managed to charter a small private plane to take them to London and one of his agents would pilot it.
The trip to the airport was extremely uncomfortable, with Tony's cracked ribs and battered knee making it rather loudly known that they didn't approve of his going anywhere. Though once he was on the plane he was able to relax a bit, mostly because he could finally stretch his legs out properly, which eased the pain in his bad knee quite a bit. Unfortunately there wasn't really anything he could do about his ribs, his rather severe headache or what he feared was a rising fever other than indulge in a pain pill or two.
He managed to drift off fairly early on in the flight, though he was fairly sure that it was only due to Control's comforting presence in the next seat. He never managed to fall completely asleep, but as time passed he also found it increasingly difficult to pull himself back to full consciousness. He was exhausted and in pain, and his fever was sapping what little strength he still had.
By the time they finally landed in London Tony was only partially aware of his surroundings. He knew in the back of his mind that this wasn't a good thing, but he just couldn't seem to muster up enough energy to care. Besides which, he had a vague feeling that Control was worrying enough for the both of them.
Tony tried to force himself to pay attention when he noticed Philip and Control debating whether he was in need of professional medical attention or not, and whether or not it would be safe to take him to a hospital, but he wasn't entirely successful. Control and Philip seemed to notice, which cut their debate short as they both agreed that he needed more aid than they could give him. The only question that remained was just where they should take him.
Tony tuned back out of the debate at that point, all of his concentration focused on simply remaining conscious. Unfortunately he couldn't quite manage it, and could only hold on to consciousness long enough to slide into the backseat of the car that Philip had waiting for them at the airport. And the moment his head made contact with the cool leather of the backseat everything went blessedly dark.
* * *
Tony had no idea just how much time had passed when he finally began to swim back towards consciousness, but even in his current condition he could tell that it had at least been long enough for Control and Philip to get him medical attention. He was flat on his back in what felt like a hospital bed, an IV attached to the back of one hand and an oxygen cannula sitting uncomfortably at his nose.
All of that faded into the background, though, when Tony noticed that his free hand was being carefully held by someone that could only be Control. He wasn't quite sure just how he knew that the hand in question belonged to Control, since from what he could recall Control had never held his hand before, but he was certain that it was Control none-the-less.
His theory was proven correct a moment later when he heard a very familiar sounding sigh very close to his left ear. "Oh, Tony. I do so wish that I had listened to my instincts and refused to let you take this assignment. I'm afraid that it's all my fault."
Well, as much as he'd like to simply slide back into sleep there was no way that Tony could possibly let Control continue to believe something so utterly silly. So he forced his eyes open, blinking uncomfortably at the too-bright lights until Control's face suddenly appeared and blocked the lights.
"It's not your fault, Control." Tony wanted to say more, but even those five words made his rather dry throat burn and he felt the beginnings of a coughing fit deep in his chest. But before the coughing fit could really get started there was a cup of water pressing gently against his lips and Control was helping him to lean forward and drink.
Tony's eyes nearly rolled back in relief as the cool water soothed his throat, and he smiled up at Control as he settled back on the bed. "Thank you, Control. That's ever so much better."
Control smiled, though in Tony's opinion there was something tight about Control's expression. "How are you feeling, Tony, if I may ask?"
Tony frowned, shifting on the bed in an attempt to figure out what still hurt. "You certainly may ask, Control. My knee still aches a bit, my head throbs some if I move it too fast and I think that once these very nice painkillers wear off that my shoulder will be quite sore. I do feel much better, though."
"That's very good to hear, Tony. I'm not at all ashamed to admit that Philip and I were quite worried when you passed out in the car, and I'm certainly relieved that you seem to be on the road to recovery."
It was fairly obvious to Tony that there was still something bothering Control, but he felt that it would be rude to pry so he just pretended not to notice. "Thank you, Control. Would you happen to know when I might be released from here? I only ask because I'm certain that I would be much more comfortable in my own flat." He paused. "I shall have to make certain to thank Valerie for looking after it for me."
Control flinched, refusing to meet Tony's eyes. "I'm afraid that I have some rather bad news, Tony. I had hoped that I wouldn't need to tell you just yet as you're still not well, but it appears that I won't be able to put off telling you any longer."
Tony waited patiently for a long moment for Control to continue with his bad news, but the other man remained silent. Finally, he decided to try to move things along a bit. "Perhaps, Control, you should just come out and tell me the bad news. Unless, of course, it's going to get less bad as time goes on."
"No, Tony, I'm afraid that my bad news won't get any less bad." He sighed, going so far as to run a hand through his hair. "You remember how your mission was to attempt to discover the rogue agents in Berlin, Tony?"
Tony nodded. "Yes, Control. Though I'm not entirely certain what my mission has to do with your bad news."
"It actually has quite a bit to do with it, Tony. You see, it turns out that there was also a mole within the office in London, which was how the rogue agents knew that you would be in the airport after you escaped the first time." Control sighed again, raising his head and forcing himself to meet Tony's eyes. "The mole came into my office, using Valerie as a human shield."
Tony's breath caught painfully in his throat and he had to forcibly unclench his hands from around the blankets. He was terribly afraid that he knew what Control was about to say, and he couldn't help but wish that he didn't have to hear it. "Control?"
"I was able to neutralize him, but unfortunately not before he shot Valerie." Control absently reached over and gripped Tony's hand. "I'm afraid that Valerie didn't survive, Tony."
Over the sudden roaring in his ears Tony could just make out Control apologizing, saying something about not being fast enough, not being clever enough, but all Tony could focus on was the pounding of his own pulse. "Control, could you possibly give me a few moments alone, please?"
He was distantly aware of Control squeezing his hand and making his way over to the door, murmuring something about getting a bit of fresh air, but he wasn't really paying attention. He was focused on trying his best to remember Valerie as she had looked the last time he saw her: smiling brightly at him as he gave her a few, last minute tips on preparing Control's coffee then tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before stretching up and pressing an embarrassed kiss to his cheek.
She had practically squeaked, cheeks heating with a blush as she ducked her head and scurried off, glancing back over her shoulder once as she turned the corner. He hadn't seen her afterwards before he had to leave for Berlin, and now he would never see her again. It just wasn't right, and it made all of his own problems pale in comparison.
Tony was still lost in his thoughts when the door opened again. For a moment he thought that it was Control, or possibly Philip, coming to check on him. Then he heard a familiar chuckle, and his blood ran cold.
Somehow, Robert Sullivan had found him yet again.
* * *
When Control left Tony's hospital room he let Philip lead him to the coffee machine down the hall, even though Control had no intention of getting a cup. He just needed something to do to try to get his mind off of the shattered expression on Tony's face when Control had finally told him about Valerie. It wasn't working exactly, but he felt that it was worth a try.
"Tony's going to be fine, Control. He'll be back on his feet and in the office in no time."
Control sighed, so tired that he didn't even feel bad when his shoulders slumped and he leaned back against the wall. "I'm afraid, Philip, that Tony's physical condition isn't all that I'm concerned about." He sighed again. "I just told him about Valerie."
Philip grimaced. "Ah. I imagine that he didn't take the news well, then."
"About as well as could be expected, I think." Control closed his eyes, shifting so that he could rest the back of his head against the wall. "He asked me to leave him alone for a bit after I told him, and I thought that it was the least that I could do for him."
"Yes, I suppose so." Philip took one last gulp of his coffee and carefully tossed the empty cup into the nearby bin. "Still, it's probably best not to leave him alone for too long, especially since he's still not recovered."
Control nodded. "You're quite correct, of course, Philip. We had best get back to Tony's room and check on him." He pushed off from the wall, taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders. Tony needed him, whether the other man realized it or not, and Control was going to make certain that Tony had whatever he needed.
The closer they got to Tony's room the more certain Control became that something was terribly wrong. There was no real reason for the growing feeling of unease in his stomach, but after everything that had happened there was no way Control was going to ignore his intuition. And by the time they reached the now-closed hospital room door there was no doubt.
There was an odd scuffing sound coming from inside the room, along with what Control was terribly afraid was Tony grunting in pain. And over it all was the incongruous sound of someone humming cheerfully in rhythm with Tony's groans.
Control glanced over at Philip, feeling somewhat better when he noticed that the other man was quietly reaching for the gun under his jacket. Control gripped his own gun, having to force himself not to hold it too tightly in his concern over Tony's well fare. He looked back over at Philip, and when the other man silently nodded, Control forced the door open.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in the room. Tony's hospital bed was empty, the blankets flung off the bed and a bit of blood staining the white sheets. Tony himself was on his knees in the corner, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead and another man's arm wrapped around his throat from behind.
The man grinned at Control from over Tony's shoulder, an insane light in his eyes. "Well, it looks like everyone's here, Tony. I do so hate to cut things short, but I'm afraid that this is it for us. I am sorry that things had to end this way, but no matter."
Before Control could even thing about moving the other man had shifted around, bringing a gun up and shoving it under Tony's chin. The blood drained from Control's face, but he forced himself to at least attempt to remain calm. Were Tony's life not at stake Control was fairly certain that he wouldn't have managed to do so, but then again if Tony's life was not at stake it wouldn't have been necessary.
"Whoever you are, I do hope that you realize that you will not be able to escape. It would be in your best interest to release Tony and give yourself up."
The man looked puzzled for a moment before his eyes went wide in realization and his grin turned sly. "You haven't told them about me, have you, Tony? Everything we've been through, and you never even mentioned me." He moved the gun so that the barrel was pressed against the side of Tony's head and wrapped his other arm around Tony's chest so that he could grip Tony's throat with his free hand. "I think I'm insulted, Tony."
Control frowned, the implications of the other man's words chilling him. But since he didn't know exactly what the other man was referring to, he decided the best course of action was just to ignore what he'd said and concentrate on getting the gun aimed at something other than Tony. "At the moment, sir, I don't particularly care who you are. Though I'm certain that once you surrender the other agents will be very thorough in ascertaining your identity."
The man chuckled, turning his attention to Tony and practically stroking his throat. "You know, Tony, I'm now very tempted to drag this out a bit longer." He leaned closer until he was speaking directly into Tony's ear. "I'd like to see the expression on your dear Control's face when he realizes just who I am, right before I kill the both of you."
Control could tell the instant that Tony decided to act. The blue eyes went flinty and narrowed slightly, and Tony's entire body tensed right before he threw himself backwards and slammed the back of his head directly into his captor's shocked face. The man's gun went flying, and Philip dashed forwards to kick it under the bed while Control pulled Tony away and stepped in front of him.
For a moment Control thought that everything was going to work out without any other problems. Then the man growled and lunged forwards, heading directly for Tony. Control reacted almost without thinking, and two gunshots echoed through the air, one immediately after the other.
Control let out an almost silent sigh of relief when he realized that the other gunshot had come from Philip. Both bullets had struck the enemy agent in the chest, and the man was sprawled on his back on the floor, eyes wide and staring. Control wanted to be upset that the man was dead, and partially at his hand, but with Tony shaking against his back he just couldn't seem to care.
He let Philip deal with the dead man, which mainly involved calling in a clean-up team to take care of the body and deal with the hospital staff. His main concern was Tony. He helped the other man into the nearby chair, trying his best to block Tony's view of the dead man.
"Are you all right, Tony? I feel so very terrible that an enemy agent was able to slip past Philip and myself and get to you."
Tony was still shivering a bit, but was obviously trying to get himself back under control, and Control couldn't help but feel a hint of pride. After a moment Tony managed to straighten his shoulders and raised his head, looking Control straight in the eye.
"I think I'm all right, Control. Or at least as all right as I was before this whole sorry mess. Thank you for your concern. And you shouldn't blame yourself for anything. It certainly wasn't your fault that he managed to get past you." He was very obviously trying to keep from glancing over Control's shoulder at the body, but his voice was steady and his shivering had eased.
"I hate to ask this, Tony, but do you happen to know anything about him? I only ask because as things stand there is no way for him to be interrogated, and I rather need to know how he managed to find you and whether we can expect anyone else to do likewise."
* * *
Tony had to fight back a grimace at Control's final question. He still had absolutely no desire to drag up the events of his last disastrous undercover operation, and with Sullivan now very dead he didn't really see that it was strictly necessary to mention it to Control. And really, the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that the information would only make Control feel worse, and that simply wouldn't due.
In the end, Tony decided to simply omit anything referring to his previous assignment, unless of course Control asked him specifically about it, though Tony didn't feel that was likely.
"His name was Robert Sullivan. He and Oversight were the ones directly behind my abduction in Berlin. He is the one that I mentioned earlier that had escaped."
Control winced, more than likely at the mention of his late brother. "This was the man that you were so concerned about earlier, Tony?"
Tony nodded, wincing a bit as the movement irritated his pounding head. "Control, would it perhaps be possible for me to go somewhere else now? I'm afraid that I'm rather uncomfortable in this room right at the moment."
Only a few minutes later Control seemed to have taken care of all of the details and was ushering Tony out of the room. Then, after a quick examination by a doctor who admitted that Tony was recovered enough that he would do just as well out of the hospital, Control had Tony bundled into the passenger seat of his car heading for Control's house.
Almost before Tony had a chance to think they had arrived and Control was showing him to the guest room. "Here we are then, Tony. Now, you may remain here until you have completely recovered, just in case."
Tony frowned. While he certainly appreciated the thought of staying with Control, he didn't want to be a bother or put the other man out. "I'm sure that's not necessary, Control. I'm certain that I'd be perfectly comfortable in my own flat, and I wouldn't want to be in your way."
"You would never be in my way, Tony." Control glanced around, not meeting Tony's eyes. "Besides, I'm not ashamed to say that I'd feel quite a bit better knowing exactly where you are and that you're safe."
There was a long pause where it seemed to Tony that Control was searching for just the right words and not quite finding them. "Control?"
Control sighed, squared his shoulders and looked Tony in the eye. "I was so terribly worried about you while you were missing, Tony. And I don't want to ever feel that way again."
Tony blinked, feeling a stirring of hope deep in his stomach. "What exactly are you saying, Control, if you don't mind my asking?"
Instead of words, Control cupped the back of Tony's head and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, being extra careful of Tony's injured lip.
When they finally broke apart, Tony smiled, fully relaxing for the first time since Control had mentioned his undercover assignment. "I had rather hoped that was what you meant, Control, but it's very nice to have it confirmed by you."
"Yes, Tony, I suppose it is." Control smiled. "Now, how about I bring you a nice cup of coffee, Tony?"
For a moment Tony thought about admitting to Control that he didn't actually care all that much for coffee, but once he noticed the hopeful expression on Control's face he decided not to. "Of course, Control. A cup of coffee would be very nice."
After all, there would be time for embarrassing confessions later.
The End
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
All Tony was aware of was the pain and the heat. He thought he could hear voices, familiar voices at that, but he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. One of them sounded like Control, but then he heard the man laugh and something deep in his chest broke at the sound. Because no matter how much the voice had sounded like Control, the laugh proved otherwise.
Then the last few moments from before he lost consciousness returned violently, and Tony had to bite back a scream. He had been so certain that he knew what he was doing, that he could identify Control no matter what the circumstances were. And he had apparently been mistaken. He had shot the wrong man.
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore his surroundings completely as he fought back tears. But then he heard something that made his blood run cold.
'There are places I remember
all my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better.
Some have gone, and some remain.
All these places have their moments
Of lovers and friends I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living.
In my life, I've loved them all.'
He very nearly whimpered. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't be. And yet, it apparently was. His throat tightened, and no matter how hard he tried, Tony simply could not manage to take a single deep breath. His chest ached from the effort of trying so hard to breath, and his head began to swim. Then he heard something that seemed to cut right through the sound of Sullivan's singing, making the terror-inducing noise fade almost into nothingness.
"I am so sorry, Tony. I shouldn't have let them send you undercover like that with no backup and no information. I never would have allowed you to go had I any idea that this was going to happen to you. Please wake up so that I can apologize to you properly."
It certainly sounded like Control, and there was no way that Tony could mistake the voice for Control's brother. The knowledge that Control apparently wasn't dead after all helped Tony to calm down, and finally he was able to breath without too much effort. The panic receding also allowed him to think a bit more clearly, and he finally came to a realization.
If Control was alive, then that meant that he had indeed shot Control's brother. If he had shot Control's brother, which he had already decided that he had, then Control's brother could not be there. And if Control's brother wasn't actually there after all, then nothing he was hearing was real. And if nothing he was hearing was real, then Sullivan wasn't actually there either.
With that thought, the sounds of singing faded completely, and Tony slipped back into a more welcoming darkness.
* * *
Philip had finally finished bandaging Tony, and Control couldn't help but think that the other man looked a bit like an Egyptian mummy, though he didn't like to follow that particular thought to its logical conclusion. After all, Tony wasn't dead and Control was going to make certain personally that he didn't become so for a good, long while. With the amount of trouble that Tony could find himself accidentally getting into, it looked to be a full-time occupation for Control, but he didn't mind. In fact, if he were being completely honest, he rather liked the idea of looking after Tony. Tony certainly did a good job of looking after him.
Control shook his head to clear his thoughts and leaned forward to pull the light blanket a bit higher on Tony's chest. The other man was still dressed in only his boxers, and it wouldn't do for him to get cold. Plus, on a purely selfish note, the blanket helped to hide the true extent of the damage that had been done to Tony, and Control didn't particularly want to see it. Partially because he wanted to hunt down every man who had helped to put those marks on Tony and do incredibly violent things to them, and Control didn't like that feeling.
He blinked, suddenly realizing that he had been running his fingers lightly through Tony's hair without thinking. He froze when Tony shifted, head pushing slightly into Control's touch, then carefully began moving his fingers again. When he saw Tony's lips curl up slightly he let out a soft sigh of relief. In his own small way he was helping Tony, making the other man feel at least a little bit better even while still unconscious.
And that feeling he liked rather a lot.
* * *
This time Tony was fairly certain that he was dreaming. And unlike the last time, he rather wished that he wasn't. This he wanted to be real.
He was sitting in what he thought was Control's dining room, though he had never actually been in Control's dining room before so he couldn't be certain. This was how he thought that it would look, though. The table was a lovely dark wood, covered in a simple white tablecloth. The light in the room was muted without being too dark, and there were two white candles in silver holders in the middle of the table.
Soft music was playing in the background, though Tony couldn't identify what either the song or the artist were. He could smell something delicious and mouth-watering coming from in the kitchen, and then he could see Control standing in the doorway wearing a frilly apron over his dress shirt and a slightly embarrassed smile.
Tony rose from his seat on impulse and walked slowly over to Control, bolder than he would have been able to be had it been real. He placed one hand on Control's shoulder and the other on his chest. Then he leaned forward for a kiss.
A moment before their lips would have touched Control stiffened in his arms, a pained grunt escaping his lips. Then his weight fell against Tony, who automatically put his arms around Control to hold him up. Tony frowned when he felt a sticky wetness on Control's back, and pulled his hand back around to look.
His eyes widened when he saw the bright red blood staining his fingers, and he looked up at Control in shock. The light was fading from Control's eyes, and he was going limp in Tony's arms. Then he seemed to vanish completely, leaving Tony alone in the room.
A moment later Tony heard a familiar laugh. He looked around frantically, but couldn't see anyone. The room was growing warmer and warmer until it was almost stiflingly hot, and the air was almost too thick to breathe. Suddenly, Control's brother was standing in front of Tony, a blood-stained knife in his hand.
"See what happened because of you, Tony? Control's going to be hurt one of these days, and it will be all your fault. You don't want that, do you, Tony?"
Tony shook his head automatically, trying his best not to listen to Oversight though the words still pricked his conscience a bit. Especially since the voice they were spoken in sounded so much like Control's.
"Of course you don't. Now, what are you going to do to make certain that you can't hurt him, hmm? What will you do to save him?"
Tony shook his head again violently, almost as if he were trying to shake Oversight's words loose. The heat was nearly all-encompassing, and everything seemed to blur around him, making him dizzy and slightly nauseous. And then, with Oversight's words still ringing in his ears, everything faded to black once more.
* * *
Control was still brushing Tony's hair back from his face when his fingers strayed onto Tony's forehead. He frowned at the heat he felt emanating from the other man, sliding his hand around to brush against Tony's cheeks as well, then down to his neck. He was entirely too hot, and Control rose to his feet and made his way into the kitchen where he looked around for a bowl and a clean towel.
Philip had left the flat less than an hour before in an attempt to check on the status of the clean-up that the two of them had left behind for other agents in their rush to get Tony to safety, and Control was alone in the flat except for the unconscious and now feverish Tony. Which meant that Control would have to try to take care of Tony himself.
He filled the bowl with cool water, trying to make sure that it wasn't too cold as he was fairly certain that too-cold water would be bad for Tony. Then he carefully carried it back out into the sitting room, sat the bowl on the coffee table and knelt on the floor next to the sofa where Tony was lying. He dipped the cloth in the water, wrung out the excess liquid and began to wipe down Tony's face and neck.
He grew more worried when Tony began to shift around, making soft distressed sounds as his head tossed back and forth. Finally he began wiping Tony's face with one hand while running the other through his hair, only stopping when he needed to wet the cloth and wring out the water again. And after a few minutes Tony started to calm down, though he still made those same soft sounds that almost broke Control's heart.
Eventually his temperature seemed to go down a bit. Control thought that Tony was still a bit feverish, but he had slipped into what seemed to be a more comfortable sleep and finally had stopped making those heartbreaking noises. Control would keep a close eye on him to make certain that he didn't get any worse again, but for the moment he would relax a bit.
Unfortunately, not having Tony's needs as an immediate focus gave him time to focus on all of the things that he would really rather not focus on. Things like his brother's sudden and violent betrayal, which he still couldn't understand. That same brother's death, which he still wasn't sure how he felt about. On the one hand the man had been his brother for his entire life. On the other hand his brother had kidnapped Tony and tortured him for days. And on the third hand, which Control didn't actually have and wasn't quite as important as the second hand anyway, his brother had tried to kill him.
Then there was Valerie's sudden and tragic death. He still wasn't sure just how he was going to tell Tony about that. After all, Tony had often worked more closely with Valerie than Control had. Many of the things that Valerie would normally have brought into his office in her role as his secretary Tony had intercepted and brought in for her. Before he had left for his assignment Tony had even given Valerie coffee-making lessons that he didn't think Control knew about.
And then there was Valerie's dying request that he tell Tony that she had loved him. He really didn't want to think about that, or about the fact that he had promised her that he would tell Tony. He didn't like to admit it, even to himself, but if it hadn't been for that promise he might very well have simply neglected to mention anything about it to Tony at all. After all, he didn't really think that finding out that Valerie had loved him would make him feel any better about her death. In fact, it very possibly would make things even worse.
He would tell Tony, since he had promised Valerie. But he would wait until Tony was recovered. The very last thing he wanted was to make Tony's condition any worse if it wasn't absolutely necessary.
Control glanced down at Tony again, slightly relieved to see that the almost perpetual frown that had been twisting Tony's lips was finally gone. He looked around the empty room for a long moment, then leaned down quickly and pressed his lips against Tony's forehead. He told himself that it was just to check Tony's temperature the way his mother had always done for him, but he knew it was a lie the moment he thought it.
He had simply wanted to be able to feel Tony's skin under his lips, to give himself a little bit of extra reassurance that Tony was present and safe, and had taken what he thought would probably be his only opportunity to find out what it felt like. He felt immediately guilty, mostly due to the idea that he was taking advantage of Tony.
But even his guilt couldn't erase the feel of Tony's slightly damp skin that still clung to his lips.
* * *
When Tony regained consciousness he was finally certain that he was actually awake, mostly due to the pain. His knee ached, though the painful throb from earlier was dulled somewhat, for which he was thankful. His chest and back were a mixture of aches and sharper pains, and his first attempt at a deep breath told him that his ribs had been wrapped, which meant that someone was finally taking care of his injuries.
His shoulder was also wrapped tightly, for which he was extremely grateful. He could remember intentionally dislocating it, and he knew from prior experience that it was going to be quite painful for a while yet. His head was throbbing in time with his pulse and he was feeling vaguely nauseous, which he knew meant that he had a concussion, a fact that wasn't in the least bit surprising considering the number of times that his head had come in violent contact with something hard in the past little while.
He felt someone's hand running gently through his hair, the repetitive motion helping to ease some of the pain in his head. He took a slow, shallow breath, the familiar blend of ink, pine and coffee that had always been Control to him lingering under his nose. With that he was finally able to completely relax, sinking bonelessly back into the sofa.
Control had indeed come to rescue him, and he was safe.
He kept his eyes closed, partly to keep his nausea down and partly so that Control wouldn't realize that he was awake and stop petting his hair. If Control knew that he was awake then he would more than likely get embarrassed about it, and Tony didn't want that. He rather liked it when Control ran his fingers through his hair, and he didn't want the other man to stop.
Eventually though Control removed his hand from Tony's head, and Tony could almost feel the concern that Control was sending him. He certainly didn't want to worry the other man, so he slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light. Then the brightness was gone, and Control was leaning over him with an almost painfully hopeful expression.
"Tony? How are you feeling, if you don't mind my asking?"
Tony couldn't suppress a small smile, even though it hurt his lower lip. He tried to speak, but his throat was terribly dry and he started to cough. Almost before he realized it, Control had dashed into the kitchen and come back with a glass of water which he held to Tony's mouth and gently tipped it up so that he could drink.
Tony suppressed a shiver at the inadvertent reminder of the woman who had done the same thing for him after he had been captured and slowly drank, eyes closing in relief as the wetness eased the discomfort in his throat.
"Thank you, Control. I feel quite a bit better now." He looked around the room, but didn't see anything familiar. "Where are we, if you can tell me, that is?"
Control frowned a bit at that. "Well, we are still in Germany, in a safe house. You still aren't in any shape to travel back to London, I'm afraid, and Philip and I were too concerned for your safety to take you to a hospital, though I will admit that when we first found you it looked rather like you might need one."
Tony blinked slowly, his pounding headache muddling his thoughts slightly. "Philip is here as well, Control?"
Control nodded. "Yes, Tony. When he realized that you had been kidnapped he remained here and organized the effort to locate you. He is the one who discovered that my brother was behind your capture, and together we were able to find out where you were being held." He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head and focused on Tony again. "Now, tell me honestly, Tony. How are you feeling?"
"Well, Control, my knee does hurt a bit, and so do my chest and back." He shifted slightly, wincing as the movement pulled on his shoulder. "My shoulder, while it seems that someone relocated it quite well, is still somewhat painful. And I have a concussion." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as the room began to slowly spin, making him feel a bit sick. "Control, it might be a good idea to get a bucket or something similar and place it on the floor near me. I fear that I may become ill in the not too distant future, and I would hate to make a mess."
Control hesitated for a moment, then reached forward and lightly patted Tony on his good shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Tony. I shall find something, and even if you did make a mess it wouldn't be your fault. You're not well, and your fever just recently came down to a safe temperature."
Tony simply watched Control look around the small flat for a bucket of some sort from his place on the sofa, trying to figure out just what it was that was making Control so fidgety. He doubted that anyone else would have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but he had spent enough time watching Control, without the other man's notice of course, that he felt he was something of an expert in Control's behavior. And the other man was acting decidedly nervous to Tony's way of thinking.
After a moment of thought, he finally decided what it must be. Control was uncomfortable being around him now that Tony had killed Control's brother, even if Oversight had been a traitor. The man was still Control's brother, after all, and Control couldn't be comfortable taking care of the man who had killed him, even if the action had saved Control's life.
He kept quiet as Control returned holding a plastic bucket in one hand and a fresh glass of water in the other. If he was correct in his suppositions then he had no idea what to say to the other man to make things right. He couldn't really apologize for killing Oversight as if he had it to do over again he was certain that he would not do anything differently. He was sorry that Control's brother was dead, but wasn't sorry that he had killed him. It was an odd dichotomy, and Tony didn't know the proper way to reconcile the two emotions.
It turned out that his worry over Control's state of mind was the last push his rather upset stomach needed, and he grabbed the bucket with his good hand as he pushed himself up to lean over the edge of the sofa and violently lost the rather small contents of his stomach.
Since he had eaten virtually nothing since his capture he was expelling mostly bile, which burned his throat and caused him to cough and choke. He kept his eyes closed as he heaved, tears wetting his lashes and then spilling down his cheeks. Eventually the cramps in his stomach lessened, and he felt the water glass being pressed to his lips.
"Here, Tony. Sip and spit until your mouth is rinsed out and then drink a bit to help your throat."
Tony did as instructed, nearly groaning in pleasure as Control took a slightly damp cloth and wiped his face, erasing all evidence of his tears. Then he flopped back onto the sofa, hissing slightly as the movement jarred his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his good arm coming up to cover them.
"Thank you, Control. I feel a bit better now."
Control patted his good shoulder again, then rose to his feet with the bucket and cloth. "I'm glad, Tony. You try to rest. I will be back in a moment."
Tony could hear Control puttering around in the kitchen, and despite his concern about the other man the sound helped to relax him. There was just something soothing in the idea of being taken care of by Control, and there always had been. He was almost dozing when his breath caught in his throat and his pulse began pounding in his ears as he finally remembered something.
While Oversight was dead and could no longer hurt him, Sullivan was still very much alive and as far as Tony knew, free as well. He had seen Sullivan slip out the door while Control and Oversight were fighting and he was fairly certain that the other man would not have gotten caught, not even by Philip and his men as good as they were at their jobs. He was simply too smart for that. After all, Sullivan had done it before.
But what frightened him the most was the absolute certainty that if Sullivan was still alive, free or not, he would be coming after him again. He had waited two entire years to find Tony again this time. He would be perfectly willing to wait once more.
Which meant that as long as Robert Sullivan was alive, Tony wasn't safe. And that meant that neither was Control, as Control had made it obvious that he was more than willing to do whatever was necessary to save Tony. So Sullivan would happily go through Control in order to get to Tony, and Tony could not let that happen.
His only problem now was trying to figure out just how he could keep Control safe without the other man knowing what he was doing, since if Control did discover Tony's plans he would most certainly not let him go through with them. Of course, Tony didn't actually have any plans yet, but the principle was still valid.
He sighed, shifting slightly on the sofa. It was then that he realized that he was shirtless, and after another quick wriggle realized that he was also missing his trousers. While he knew intellectually that in order for Control and Philip to have taken care of his injuries they would have had to undress him, he still found the idea that the two men had seen him in that state rather embarrassing, especially since he had been unconscious at the time. It wasn't that he was completely adverse to the idea of Control seeing him while not fully dressed, he just didn't care much for the circumstances, especially since Control would have seen Sullivan's rather distinctive 'artwork' And that was something that he would rather not have to explain.
He opened his eyes, starting slightly when he saw that Control was back and standing over him with an odd expression on his face. Control then bit his lip lightly and seemed to steel himself.
"Tony, I do hate to ask you this, but if you feel up to sitting for a bit, I rather need to check on the state of the cuts on your back and chest. While first aid is not my forte, Philip left me strict instructions on how I was to care for your injuries, and I need to make certain that you aren't bleeding into your bandages."
Well, that rather explained the expression on Control's face. Tony could feel his face heating with embarrassment as he struggled to sit up, the blush growing even hotter when he felt Control's hands on his bare skin as the other man helped him to sit up. Between the pain the movement caused and Control's hands on his sides Tony was hard pressed to keep his breathing relatively even.
Control started with the cuts on his chest, making distracted noises in the back of his throat as he checked for any bleeding. When he was satisfied, he helped Tony turn enough so that he could check his back, a fact that Tony was grateful for as it meant that Control could no longer see his red face. After a few minutes Control started to help him lie back down, but he stopped and ran his fingers gently over the scarred design carved into the skin at the back of Tony's neck.
Tony froze when he felt Control's fingertips tracing the design and almost forgot to breathe. The very last thing that he wanted was for Control to ask about that particular scar, but he was fairly certain that the other man was going to.
"Tony, I've noticed something rather worrying just now. I realize that you most likely don't wish to discuss anything that has happened since you were captured, but I can't help but notice that this scar on the back of your neck is very similar to the fresh cuts on your chest, specifically the ones right over your heart." He eased Tony back on the sofa, his concerned expression doing little to ease Tony's growing panic. "You don't have to say anything about it if you don't want to, Tony, but if you should then I would be more than willing to listen."
The air went out of Tony's lungs in a rush and then his throat tightened. There was simply no way that he would be able to tell Control about the matching scars as that would not only mean explaining how Control's brother had wanted to permanently mark him, but also explaining about Sullivan's place in not only this mission, but also his last mission. It would mean explaining things that Tony had done his level best for two years to forget.
His breathing started coming in shallow pants, his chest so tight that he simply could not get enough air no matter how he tried. Even the knowledge that he was having a panic attack did little to alleviate the situation. His vision started going dark as he wheezed, and then he felt himself being pulled forward into Control's arms. One of Control's hands rested on the back of his head while the other ran up and down his back gently, trying not to press too hard on any of the bandages.
Eventually the tightness in his chest loosened a bit, and Tony was finally able to take a deep breath, or at least as deep a breath as the wrapping around his ribs would allow. He slowly raised his head from where it had been resting on Control's shoulder, but he couldn't bring himself to meet the other man's eyes.
"It's all right, Tony. I'm not going to make you talk about it, especially if it is causing such a severe reaction. If there was something that I needed to know right now, though, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"
Tony paused for a long moment, then nodded. He still didn't really want to tell Control about Sullivan at all, but it would be safer for Control if he knew that there was still one of the ringleaders on the loose. Plus, there was no way that he could keep quiet after Control had asked him that. "There is one thing, Control. While your brother was one of the men behind my capture, he was not the only one. His partner managed to escape while you were...indisposed."
Control grimaced. "Thank you for telling me, Tony. Once Philip returns we shall see what information he has about any of the rogue agents who managed to escape. Though I doubt that we shall have anything to worry about."
Tony flinched, but didn't tell Control any differently. Explaining that Sullivan would come after him again would mean going into detail about what had happened two years ago, and Tony simply could not bring himself to do that, not even for Control. Not yet, anyway.
* * *
Tony dozed off and on for the rest of the night, never feeling quite comfortable and secure enough to get any solid sleep. Eventually he decided to simply lay on the couch with his eyes closed and try to rest even if he couldn't get any sleep. And about an hour later he had almost managed to fall asleep when Philip returned.
He kept his eyes closed, content to continue pretending that he was asleep while Control and Philip talked. It seemed that Philip's team had managed to round up most of the rogue agents that had been involved, which was certainly a good thing, though from what he was able to figure out Sullivan had disappeared without a trace.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and tried to focus on something a little less terrifying. After all, Philip and Control were there and he was perfectly safe for the moment. And he needed to rest and regain his strength, because he had the feeling that the whole sorry mess wasn't quite over just yet.
They stayed tucked up in the safe house for two more days, with only Philip ever venturing outside to check in with his team and make arrangements for getting Tony and Control back to England. Tony was quite impressed with Philip's ingenuity; the other man had managed to charter a small private plane to take them to London and one of his agents would pilot it.
The trip to the airport was extremely uncomfortable, with Tony's cracked ribs and battered knee making it rather loudly known that they didn't approve of his going anywhere. Though once he was on the plane he was able to relax a bit, mostly because he could finally stretch his legs out properly, which eased the pain in his bad knee quite a bit. Unfortunately there wasn't really anything he could do about his ribs, his rather severe headache or what he feared was a rising fever other than indulge in a pain pill or two.
He managed to drift off fairly early on in the flight, though he was fairly sure that it was only due to Control's comforting presence in the next seat. He never managed to fall completely asleep, but as time passed he also found it increasingly difficult to pull himself back to full consciousness. He was exhausted and in pain, and his fever was sapping what little strength he still had.
By the time they finally landed in London Tony was only partially aware of his surroundings. He knew in the back of his mind that this wasn't a good thing, but he just couldn't seem to muster up enough energy to care. Besides which, he had a vague feeling that Control was worrying enough for the both of them.
Tony tried to force himself to pay attention when he noticed Philip and Control debating whether he was in need of professional medical attention or not, and whether or not it would be safe to take him to a hospital, but he wasn't entirely successful. Control and Philip seemed to notice, which cut their debate short as they both agreed that he needed more aid than they could give him. The only question that remained was just where they should take him.
Tony tuned back out of the debate at that point, all of his concentration focused on simply remaining conscious. Unfortunately he couldn't quite manage it, and could only hold on to consciousness long enough to slide into the backseat of the car that Philip had waiting for them at the airport. And the moment his head made contact with the cool leather of the backseat everything went blessedly dark.
* * *
Tony had no idea just how much time had passed when he finally began to swim back towards consciousness, but even in his current condition he could tell that it had at least been long enough for Control and Philip to get him medical attention. He was flat on his back in what felt like a hospital bed, an IV attached to the back of one hand and an oxygen cannula sitting uncomfortably at his nose.
All of that faded into the background, though, when Tony noticed that his free hand was being carefully held by someone that could only be Control. He wasn't quite sure just how he knew that the hand in question belonged to Control, since from what he could recall Control had never held his hand before, but he was certain that it was Control none-the-less.
His theory was proven correct a moment later when he heard a very familiar sounding sigh very close to his left ear. "Oh, Tony. I do so wish that I had listened to my instincts and refused to let you take this assignment. I'm afraid that it's all my fault."
Well, as much as he'd like to simply slide back into sleep there was no way that Tony could possibly let Control continue to believe something so utterly silly. So he forced his eyes open, blinking uncomfortably at the too-bright lights until Control's face suddenly appeared and blocked the lights.
"It's not your fault, Control." Tony wanted to say more, but even those five words made his rather dry throat burn and he felt the beginnings of a coughing fit deep in his chest. But before the coughing fit could really get started there was a cup of water pressing gently against his lips and Control was helping him to lean forward and drink.
Tony's eyes nearly rolled back in relief as the cool water soothed his throat, and he smiled up at Control as he settled back on the bed. "Thank you, Control. That's ever so much better."
Control smiled, though in Tony's opinion there was something tight about Control's expression. "How are you feeling, Tony, if I may ask?"
Tony frowned, shifting on the bed in an attempt to figure out what still hurt. "You certainly may ask, Control. My knee still aches a bit, my head throbs some if I move it too fast and I think that once these very nice painkillers wear off that my shoulder will be quite sore. I do feel much better, though."
"That's very good to hear, Tony. I'm not at all ashamed to admit that Philip and I were quite worried when you passed out in the car, and I'm certainly relieved that you seem to be on the road to recovery."
It was fairly obvious to Tony that there was still something bothering Control, but he felt that it would be rude to pry so he just pretended not to notice. "Thank you, Control. Would you happen to know when I might be released from here? I only ask because I'm certain that I would be much more comfortable in my own flat." He paused. "I shall have to make certain to thank Valerie for looking after it for me."
Control flinched, refusing to meet Tony's eyes. "I'm afraid that I have some rather bad news, Tony. I had hoped that I wouldn't need to tell you just yet as you're still not well, but it appears that I won't be able to put off telling you any longer."
Tony waited patiently for a long moment for Control to continue with his bad news, but the other man remained silent. Finally, he decided to try to move things along a bit. "Perhaps, Control, you should just come out and tell me the bad news. Unless, of course, it's going to get less bad as time goes on."
"No, Tony, I'm afraid that my bad news won't get any less bad." He sighed, going so far as to run a hand through his hair. "You remember how your mission was to attempt to discover the rogue agents in Berlin, Tony?"
Tony nodded. "Yes, Control. Though I'm not entirely certain what my mission has to do with your bad news."
"It actually has quite a bit to do with it, Tony. You see, it turns out that there was also a mole within the office in London, which was how the rogue agents knew that you would be in the airport after you escaped the first time." Control sighed again, raising his head and forcing himself to meet Tony's eyes. "The mole came into my office, using Valerie as a human shield."
Tony's breath caught painfully in his throat and he had to forcibly unclench his hands from around the blankets. He was terribly afraid that he knew what Control was about to say, and he couldn't help but wish that he didn't have to hear it. "Control?"
"I was able to neutralize him, but unfortunately not before he shot Valerie." Control absently reached over and gripped Tony's hand. "I'm afraid that Valerie didn't survive, Tony."
Over the sudden roaring in his ears Tony could just make out Control apologizing, saying something about not being fast enough, not being clever enough, but all Tony could focus on was the pounding of his own pulse. "Control, could you possibly give me a few moments alone, please?"
He was distantly aware of Control squeezing his hand and making his way over to the door, murmuring something about getting a bit of fresh air, but he wasn't really paying attention. He was focused on trying his best to remember Valerie as she had looked the last time he saw her: smiling brightly at him as he gave her a few, last minute tips on preparing Control's coffee then tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before stretching up and pressing an embarrassed kiss to his cheek.
She had practically squeaked, cheeks heating with a blush as she ducked her head and scurried off, glancing back over her shoulder once as she turned the corner. He hadn't seen her afterwards before he had to leave for Berlin, and now he would never see her again. It just wasn't right, and it made all of his own problems pale in comparison.
Tony was still lost in his thoughts when the door opened again. For a moment he thought that it was Control, or possibly Philip, coming to check on him. Then he heard a familiar chuckle, and his blood ran cold.
Somehow, Robert Sullivan had found him yet again.
* * *
When Control left Tony's hospital room he let Philip lead him to the coffee machine down the hall, even though Control had no intention of getting a cup. He just needed something to do to try to get his mind off of the shattered expression on Tony's face when Control had finally told him about Valerie. It wasn't working exactly, but he felt that it was worth a try.
"Tony's going to be fine, Control. He'll be back on his feet and in the office in no time."
Control sighed, so tired that he didn't even feel bad when his shoulders slumped and he leaned back against the wall. "I'm afraid, Philip, that Tony's physical condition isn't all that I'm concerned about." He sighed again. "I just told him about Valerie."
Philip grimaced. "Ah. I imagine that he didn't take the news well, then."
"About as well as could be expected, I think." Control closed his eyes, shifting so that he could rest the back of his head against the wall. "He asked me to leave him alone for a bit after I told him, and I thought that it was the least that I could do for him."
"Yes, I suppose so." Philip took one last gulp of his coffee and carefully tossed the empty cup into the nearby bin. "Still, it's probably best not to leave him alone for too long, especially since he's still not recovered."
Control nodded. "You're quite correct, of course, Philip. We had best get back to Tony's room and check on him." He pushed off from the wall, taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders. Tony needed him, whether the other man realized it or not, and Control was going to make certain that Tony had whatever he needed.
The closer they got to Tony's room the more certain Control became that something was terribly wrong. There was no real reason for the growing feeling of unease in his stomach, but after everything that had happened there was no way Control was going to ignore his intuition. And by the time they reached the now-closed hospital room door there was no doubt.
There was an odd scuffing sound coming from inside the room, along with what Control was terribly afraid was Tony grunting in pain. And over it all was the incongruous sound of someone humming cheerfully in rhythm with Tony's groans.
Control glanced over at Philip, feeling somewhat better when he noticed that the other man was quietly reaching for the gun under his jacket. Control gripped his own gun, having to force himself not to hold it too tightly in his concern over Tony's well fare. He looked back over at Philip, and when the other man silently nodded, Control forced the door open.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in the room. Tony's hospital bed was empty, the blankets flung off the bed and a bit of blood staining the white sheets. Tony himself was on his knees in the corner, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead and another man's arm wrapped around his throat from behind.
The man grinned at Control from over Tony's shoulder, an insane light in his eyes. "Well, it looks like everyone's here, Tony. I do so hate to cut things short, but I'm afraid that this is it for us. I am sorry that things had to end this way, but no matter."
Before Control could even thing about moving the other man had shifted around, bringing a gun up and shoving it under Tony's chin. The blood drained from Control's face, but he forced himself to at least attempt to remain calm. Were Tony's life not at stake Control was fairly certain that he wouldn't have managed to do so, but then again if Tony's life was not at stake it wouldn't have been necessary.
"Whoever you are, I do hope that you realize that you will not be able to escape. It would be in your best interest to release Tony and give yourself up."
The man looked puzzled for a moment before his eyes went wide in realization and his grin turned sly. "You haven't told them about me, have you, Tony? Everything we've been through, and you never even mentioned me." He moved the gun so that the barrel was pressed against the side of Tony's head and wrapped his other arm around Tony's chest so that he could grip Tony's throat with his free hand. "I think I'm insulted, Tony."
Control frowned, the implications of the other man's words chilling him. But since he didn't know exactly what the other man was referring to, he decided the best course of action was just to ignore what he'd said and concentrate on getting the gun aimed at something other than Tony. "At the moment, sir, I don't particularly care who you are. Though I'm certain that once you surrender the other agents will be very thorough in ascertaining your identity."
The man chuckled, turning his attention to Tony and practically stroking his throat. "You know, Tony, I'm now very tempted to drag this out a bit longer." He leaned closer until he was speaking directly into Tony's ear. "I'd like to see the expression on your dear Control's face when he realizes just who I am, right before I kill the both of you."
Control could tell the instant that Tony decided to act. The blue eyes went flinty and narrowed slightly, and Tony's entire body tensed right before he threw himself backwards and slammed the back of his head directly into his captor's shocked face. The man's gun went flying, and Philip dashed forwards to kick it under the bed while Control pulled Tony away and stepped in front of him.
For a moment Control thought that everything was going to work out without any other problems. Then the man growled and lunged forwards, heading directly for Tony. Control reacted almost without thinking, and two gunshots echoed through the air, one immediately after the other.
Control let out an almost silent sigh of relief when he realized that the other gunshot had come from Philip. Both bullets had struck the enemy agent in the chest, and the man was sprawled on his back on the floor, eyes wide and staring. Control wanted to be upset that the man was dead, and partially at his hand, but with Tony shaking against his back he just couldn't seem to care.
He let Philip deal with the dead man, which mainly involved calling in a clean-up team to take care of the body and deal with the hospital staff. His main concern was Tony. He helped the other man into the nearby chair, trying his best to block Tony's view of the dead man.
"Are you all right, Tony? I feel so very terrible that an enemy agent was able to slip past Philip and myself and get to you."
Tony was still shivering a bit, but was obviously trying to get himself back under control, and Control couldn't help but feel a hint of pride. After a moment Tony managed to straighten his shoulders and raised his head, looking Control straight in the eye.
"I think I'm all right, Control. Or at least as all right as I was before this whole sorry mess. Thank you for your concern. And you shouldn't blame yourself for anything. It certainly wasn't your fault that he managed to get past you." He was very obviously trying to keep from glancing over Control's shoulder at the body, but his voice was steady and his shivering had eased.
"I hate to ask this, Tony, but do you happen to know anything about him? I only ask because as things stand there is no way for him to be interrogated, and I rather need to know how he managed to find you and whether we can expect anyone else to do likewise."
* * *
Tony had to fight back a grimace at Control's final question. He still had absolutely no desire to drag up the events of his last disastrous undercover operation, and with Sullivan now very dead he didn't really see that it was strictly necessary to mention it to Control. And really, the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that the information would only make Control feel worse, and that simply wouldn't due.
In the end, Tony decided to simply omit anything referring to his previous assignment, unless of course Control asked him specifically about it, though Tony didn't feel that was likely.
"His name was Robert Sullivan. He and Oversight were the ones directly behind my abduction in Berlin. He is the one that I mentioned earlier that had escaped."
Control winced, more than likely at the mention of his late brother. "This was the man that you were so concerned about earlier, Tony?"
Tony nodded, wincing a bit as the movement irritated his pounding head. "Control, would it perhaps be possible for me to go somewhere else now? I'm afraid that I'm rather uncomfortable in this room right at the moment."
Only a few minutes later Control seemed to have taken care of all of the details and was ushering Tony out of the room. Then, after a quick examination by a doctor who admitted that Tony was recovered enough that he would do just as well out of the hospital, Control had Tony bundled into the passenger seat of his car heading for Control's house.
Almost before Tony had a chance to think they had arrived and Control was showing him to the guest room. "Here we are then, Tony. Now, you may remain here until you have completely recovered, just in case."
Tony frowned. While he certainly appreciated the thought of staying with Control, he didn't want to be a bother or put the other man out. "I'm sure that's not necessary, Control. I'm certain that I'd be perfectly comfortable in my own flat, and I wouldn't want to be in your way."
"You would never be in my way, Tony." Control glanced around, not meeting Tony's eyes. "Besides, I'm not ashamed to say that I'd feel quite a bit better knowing exactly where you are and that you're safe."
There was a long pause where it seemed to Tony that Control was searching for just the right words and not quite finding them. "Control?"
Control sighed, squared his shoulders and looked Tony in the eye. "I was so terribly worried about you while you were missing, Tony. And I don't want to ever feel that way again."
Tony blinked, feeling a stirring of hope deep in his stomach. "What exactly are you saying, Control, if you don't mind my asking?"
Instead of words, Control cupped the back of Tony's head and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, being extra careful of Tony's injured lip.
When they finally broke apart, Tony smiled, fully relaxing for the first time since Control had mentioned his undercover assignment. "I had rather hoped that was what you meant, Control, but it's very nice to have it confirmed by you."
"Yes, Tony, I suppose it is." Control smiled. "Now, how about I bring you a nice cup of coffee, Tony?"
For a moment Tony thought about admitting to Control that he didn't actually care all that much for coffee, but once he noticed the hopeful expression on Control's face he decided not to. "Of course, Control. A cup of coffee would be very nice."
After all, there would be time for embarrassing confessions later.
The End