Fic for laura_trekkie (Part 1)
Recipient: laura_trekkie
Author: TBA
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Title: The Mere Thought (better than working title of ‘Bloodbath’)
Pairing: Ian/Colby
Rating: R
Warnings: Potty mouth/bad words/language; flashback and cognitively impaired images/memories of war; slash content; author creativity. NOT BETEAD; point and I shall correct.
Summary: For the prompt, “Colby has a terrifying flashback of Afghanistan and Ian's the only one who can talk him down.”
Author's Note: At end for the need-to-knowers.
Spoilers: Discussion of things in Ultimatum. Allusions to any and all episodes with Ian Edgerton.
________________________________________
Colby became aware of pain, it was distant at first but as awareness seeped in, going from black to gray to white, the pain became annoying and then grueling and then overwhelming. When he finally opened his eyes, he immediately shut them again. It was so bright; where were his sunglasses? And his helmet?
Opening them again, squinting, he tried to take in his surroundings but all he knew was that he felt sticky, hot and thirsty, he ached all over, his head was killing him and something was wrong with his left leg.
He tried moving around to check his situation but pain drove him into unconsciousness once more.
After coming to again, Colby was able to forcefully move his head around this time, even though it felt like a fifty pound ball of iron on his neck, and found himself at the base of a long, sloping canyon cliff. He’d obviously tumbled down it but as to why or how, Colby didn’t have any clue.
Belatedly he looked around for his rifle but the only weapons he seemed to have on him were a handgun with a couple of extra clips and his knife. Frowning, he tried to move to see more of the area but ended up stuck with his back leaning against a boulder, panting through pain and realizing that his left leg was actually broken. He tried his radio but found only static; the fall down must have damaged it.
Shit.
Raising a hand to his head and, before he could process more than it coming back bloody, he slumped into darkness once more.
It took him awhile to remove his tee-shirt and then tear it into strips to use for bandages after he woke again, fighting to remain conscious as he contemplated his situation. He was stuck in enemy territory and it looked like he had not only lost his rifle in the fall, but his pack as well. In this heat, injured as he was, without water, Colby knew he wouldn’t last long. And if that didn’t kill him, especially if he kept blacking out, the soldiers who found him certainly would.
Colby had no idea where the rest of his unit was but he sincerely hoped that they had been able to find cover and that they’d be able to find him and get him out of the mess he was in.
The wound he assumed was a bullet graze had bled considerably. It had run down his forehead, detouring around his eyebrow and passed his temple then along his jaw where it had mixed with the sweat on his neck. As he bandaged it, the clot bled sluggishly but remained intact.
Given his inability to remain conscious, Colby assumed that there had to be another head wound. Using his fingers to gently feel around, he found only one other which he must have gotten in his fall. From his exploration, Colby could tell that it needed a lot more treatment than he could provide and would soak through the light material he was using in no time. However, he did what he could for it, blacking out a couple of times for a few seconds as he secured the remaining material around it.
Fighting to stay conscious, Colby used his knife to he cut away the pants from his broken leg. With nothing to use for splints he wouldn’t be able to keep it straight, but the sturdy material and his belt would at least provide some cushion and protection for the limb; there just wasn’t anything else he could do.
He must have blacked out again because the next thing he knew, there were two soldiers bending over him and the sound of a helicopter not too far away. Not recognizing the men, Colby knocked one down and grabbed the other, jerking him down and slamming him into the ground. The angles all wrong for him to do anything to truly incapacitate the soldier while he was injured, Colby grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a small rock, and hit the soldier in the head. Seizing the closest enemy’s gun, he targeted the other soldier who was struggling to get back to his feet.
He must have really been out of it to not have awakened as they disarmed and otherwise searched him. Railing at himself, Colby used his rudimentary Pashto to command the soldier to get back on the ground, stay still and silent or he would kill him.
The man looked over at him with eyes gone wide and swallowed, nodding his head in understanding.
With as hurt as he was, Colby wouldn’t stand a chance of getting away from the reinforcements he was sure would descend upon him at any sound of gunfire; the handgun wasn’t meant for long range targets nor did he have the ammunition to sustain him through a firefight. By all rights, he should just kill them both right now and be done with it; however, Colby needed information and using one against the other was a good strategy of getting it.
He frowned slightly at the soldier’s behavior and easy acquiescence but didn’t have time to puzzle anything out as he fought to keep himself from passing out again as he checked for the unconscious soldier’s radio. Finding it, he listened for a moment, hearing all sorts of chatter. As Colby tried to focus his thoughts on how to get in touch with his unit, or the helicopter he could hear - he was sure it was one of theirs - and letting them know his situation, without alerting the enemy, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
He must have blacked out again for just a few seconds because when he blinked his eyes open, the solider on the ground had sat up, attempting to move towards him and the movement that Colby had noticed a moment prior had actually resolved itself into a group of five other soldiers coming towards him.
Raising the gun, which refused to remain steady, Colby commanded the second solider to back off, his finger putting more pressure on the trigger. The man moved away slowly and then sat on his heels but went to the ground when Colby threatened him further.
Colby checked the man nearest him and grimaced in pain and confusion. Hadn’t this been an enemy soldier? Attempting to clear his head, Colby almost shook himself before stopping abruptly. He couldn’t afford to black out again.
Taking a closer look….
No, this was Lieutenant Murphy, code named ‘Rainman’. Thank God his head wound wasn’t bleeding because Colby didn’t have anything else to use for bandages and, while he heard the chopper, Colby didn’t believe it would attempt to get any closer to them with those enemy soldiers right on top of them. He wondered if the rest of his unit was close, he could really use the backup right now.
Resting one hand on the man’s shoulder, Colby gave him a little shake as he looked at the six enemy soldiers in front of him. “Come on, Rain, break time’s over.” He wasn’t expecting a response from the Cincinnati, Ohio, native, but it gave him a measure of comfort to have a friend at his side given the situation.
________________________________________
Special Agent Ian Edgerton felt himself shaken slightly and strove to make sense of his condition as his body ignored his demand of open your fucking eyes and find out what the hell is going on! The last he recalled was that they had all been on a combined operation via the OCDETF to take down a major drug and gun runner out in the desert, east of LA.
This was definitely not the time to not know what the hell was happening!
There’d been three teams of four, with each of them assigned one sniper. While the SOG of the US Marshals had provided them with the sharpshooters and tactical backup, Ian himself had actually been in the area and had volunteered to help with the operation.
Things had been going as well as could be expected, given the situation. DEA and ATF had come at the ‘compound’ in a standard flanking maneuver with Eppes’ team coming in straight on. Ian and the other snipers had excellent high ground for their work, especially with the back of it having pretty much butted up against two natural obstructions - a tall canyon column and a steep cliff.
Until things heated up and the bad guys started panicking that is.
While there had appeared to be a cool head running the illicit operation with the top levels being composed of mostly mercenaries and former military, the bullets currently being sprayed willy-nilly must have been the product of their downline - a mishmash of petty thugs and muscle, with no real brains - as they tried to cover their own escape.
Ian… something….
Granger!
Edgerton’s mind might have slammed into high gear but his body remained almost completely still as he remembered seeing Colby jerk backwards out of the corner of his eye. He’d thought the formidable blond had been killed and had struggled to keep his emotions in check. He used his comm to radio the Medivac helicopter they had had on stand-by, his voice rough, hoping someone would be able to check on the downed agent, hoping that someone found him alive.
As soon as things had calmed down enough for Ian to move without getting shot himself, he’d made his way to where he’d last seen the other man, having heard nothing about him and calling for a situation report, his jaw clenched tight, his gut churning and his chest aching.
However, when the sniper reached Colby’s position to find only a couple of other agents, one on the radio with the helicopter, and no sign of Granger, except for the rifle he’d had with him, Ian couldn’t help but hold his breath. Looking around, he surmised that Colby must have lost his footing, the gravel under his feet rolling, the dirt giving way, which had then sent him over the lip of the wall.
Looking down, Ian’s heart stopped in his chest. Despite the gradualness of the cliff’s slope, if Colby hadn’t been dead when he went over, there was a really good chance he was now.
Communicating his findings to all concerned, Ian and one of the other agents had then attempted to climb down but ended up radioing that it was too dangerous for anyone to try to descend any further without better equipment. Scrambling the little way back up, the sniper growling inwardly at the wasted time, they’d split up to go around the scene to get to the base of the canyon, the helicopter remaining on stand-by.
Ian had met up with Malik Hosseini, one of the DEA agents, coming from the other direction and, together they’d found Granger, alive. Ian had struggled to keep his mask in place and focus on staying professional, assessing and relaying Colby’s condition: unconscious, one leg broken and two head wounds, all of which had been field dressed as well as could be. Colby had obviously been conscious at some point, which was a good thing considering.
Suddenly it all came back and Ian forced himself to keep still this time, focusing on the voices around him, trying to understand why the handsome blond had attacked them.
After listening for a few moments, Ian swallowed, mentally cursing.
Colby was in the midst of a flashback it seemed.
The sniper knew about flashbacks. He’d suffered through a couple himself over the years and knew of many other soldiers who had had to deal with them as well. Sometimes people knew what their triggers were and made a concentrated effort to stay away from them but others struck out of the blue. Given Colby’s condition, it wasn’t any wonder that the former soldier was having one; this was a tailor-made scenario just waiting to happen.
And it was pure luck, good or bad, that the sniper knew exactly what Colby thought was going on and where he thought he was. After all, Ian had been there too, just not ‘officially.’
________________________________________
“Ok, Rainman, I really need you to wake up now and help us get outta here.” Colby’s voice was whisper soft and tense but clearly not expecting Murphy to respond.
Ian forced himself to move slowly, watching as Colby registered him, slight surprise and relief on his face, shoulders losing an infinitesimal amount of tension, but not taking his eyes away from the people in front of him.
“God, Rain, I could really use a hand here, buddy.”
While Ian knew Colby was obviously seeing the soldiers from his flashback, the sniper took in everything at a glance, breathing a little easier finding that Colby hadn’t shot anyone - yet - and that was pretty much all that mattered at the moment. Malik Hosseini was sitting on the ground uninjured while his coworkers Allen Jeffries and Steve Jones, along with Michael Webber from the ATF and Don and David, were stopped several feet away from them.
Looking back to the formidable blond, Ian knew the next step was getting Colby out of the flashback and to stand down. They needed to get him to the hospital; one of the head wounds had looked like a fracture to Ian and it needed immediate medical attention, not to mention getting him out of this heat and his leg.
“Quarterhorse.” Ian’s voice was just as whisper soft.
“Rain, it’s good to have you awake, man.”
“Colby.” The blond briefly glanced at him with a frown, tensing. Ian continued, hoping that his use of Granger’s first name instead of his handle would help reach the injured agent. “I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, Colby, but I’m not Lieutenant Murphy; I’m Ian Edgerton and you aren’t in Afghanistan right now.”
He watched the blond try not to react but Ian had spent a lot of time observing the handsome man throughout the years and could almost see Colby’s mind going over what he just said.
“You’re in California right now, Granger. Afghanistan was about a decade ago and you, and me, are an FBI agent now, not a soldier.” Ian was keeping his voice quiet, an intimate conversation between the two of them.
The sniper heard the huff of air from the blond, obviously trying not to snort, but he wasn’t tensing up or firing the gun… yet.
Ian had raised his voice so the others could hear him now and continued, “Agent Hosseini is with the DEA. We were on a joint operation to take down a drug and gun runner out here when things got a little hot.”
He swallowed, remembering Colby jerking backwards and fought to keep himself calm and his voice steady. “We thought you’d been taken down by a bullet when you were changing your position. It looks like it just grazed you, but you must have fallen down the cliff.” Edgerton gave a nod to Colby’s head wounds and broken leg.
Ian watched as Colby tried to split his attention between the ‘enemy soldiers’ and his obviously ‘delirious partner’ given the man’s slight change in expression. He then tilted his head towards the other agents without breaking eye contact with Colby.
“The guy on the far right is your boss and the one close to him is your partner. The other three are DEA and ATF.” Ian’s voice had gone quiet again and then made a gesture to Don.
Don didn’t move forward, but he gave the gun he was holding to David and then slowly began to move his right hand towards the back right pocket of his jeans, intending on getting his identification.
“I’m Special Agent Don Eppes. I’m your boss and team leader for the Violent Crimes Unit of the LA FBI office. I’m going to get my ID out and toss it to you, ok, Colby?”
________________________________________
Colby’s head hurt, his leg hurt, hell… everything hurt…. And now, Murphy was claiming to be sniper legend Ian Edgerton and telling him that he wasn’t where he knew… where he thought… he was?
The blond wanted to shake his head with frustration but knew that that would be a world-class bad idea. Not only did he have to content with his own injuries now, but he had to figure out how to keep Murphy, who was obviously way out there, from doing anything that would get the both of them killed outright.
The guy Murphy said was Colby’s boss, how did the soldier know his name - Murphy hadn’t said it loud enough for the man to hear - started to reach for something inside his uniform and Colby tensed, trying to watch all the soldiers at the same time while using his weaning strength to keep the gun pointed at the other man’s chest. No matter how hard he tried though, Colby couldn’t keep it from shaking; he was at the end of his endurance and he knew he had to decide what to do before he blacked out again, possibly for the very last time.
________________________________________
Ian could see Colby trying to think his way through all that was happening, understanding he wasn’t believing what Ian, what Murphy, was telling him, seeing Colby’s finger tighten just a bit on the trigger.
Ian motioned for everyone to hold still and Don froze, his hand almost to his back pocket.
“Colby.” When Granger kept his eyes and gun focused on the other agents, Ian chanced touching the blonde’s knee to get his attention.
The sniper looked into the blonde’s green eyes, hoping Colby would, could see the truth of what he was saying reflected there.
“Colby, what if I am Ian Edgerton? What if everything I’m telling you is true? Are you going to try and kill five or six innocent people, perhaps getting both of us killed too, with the belief that you’re right and I’m lying to you?”
“And if you’re wrong?” Colby’s voice rang with his own conviction, the determination to do anything he could to keep Murphy and himself alive.
Ian leaned forward a bit, squeezing Colby’s knee slightly, “Have I ever lied to you?” Colby squinted a little and the sniper continued.
“Colby, they aren’t going to shoot you. They aren’t going to shoot me. They aren’t going to capture us or torture us. All they’re going to do is call in the Medievac helicopter and get you to a hospital.”
He watched as Colby turned back to the group in front of him, silent.
“Just listen to me for just one minute.” Ian fought to keep himself calm. He had to get Colby to stand down because if he pulled that trigger, this would be nothing short of a bloodbath.
“Please, Colby, just listen.”
Something must have come through because the man looked back to him and Ian seized the chance.
“Could it be you who’s not seeing this situation for what it is; you’ve got a fractured skull, you fell down a cliff… you broke your leg and you were unconscious when we found you.”
The uncertainty was clear in the former soldier’s eyes.
“Come on, Colby, we need to get you to the hospital.”
He could see Granger’s brain trying to sort things out but they didn’t have time; Colby’s head was still bleeding and he’d been out in this sun for too long without medical attention already.
“Trust me, Colby. Please.”
Colby swallowed, his breathing having sped up slightly, the gun in his hand shaking even more.
“Please,” Ian repeated, his voice almost cracking this time with how tense it was, with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check.
Colby’s gun hand started to lower, but Ian would never know if it was because of his plea or if it was because the formidable blond had finally reached the end of his stamina, because Colby’s eyes rolled up in his head and all at once his body slumped; the sniper barely catching him to prevent his head from hitting the ground.
________________________________________
At the hospital, once he’d been moved out of ICU and the haze from all the medications had lessened, Colby had struggled to recall what had happened during the raid, having been confronted with the charges against him.
While it was clear no one blamed him for what had happened, Colby had still attacked two federal officers and held others at gunpoint and it had taken the formidable blond hearing the accounts of others who’d been on the scene and putting them together with his own fractured memories, for him to grasp the situation.
Ian, after getting checked out and given a relatively clean bill of health, had stayed as close to the blond as possible. When Colby had been released with supervision, he had volunteered for duty, although the irony of someone with his own head injury watching over someone with even worse was not lost on him. However, with all the visitors dropping by Granger’s apartment throughout the following days of their recovery, it wasn’t a problem.
Despite everything Ian and everyone else did or said though, Colby had slowly sunk into a depression so debilitating that it was actually beginning to affect his convalescence.
And Ian finally decided drastic measures were called for.
________________________________________
Kidnapping Colby was relatively easy given the man’s state of mind. Ian took him to a cabin he used for when he felt the need for sanctuary from the demands and consequences of his own life. The place was somewhat small; it didn’t show up on any maps and was relatively completely self-contained and there were no two-legged neighbors for at least fifty miles in any direction.
Ian believed the blond needed time to grieve and rail against what had happened and he knew Colby would not do that back in Los Angeles, not with friends, co-workers and others constantly dropping by or checking in on him. This was the perfect place and, Ian also believed, himself the perfect companion, for Colby to just… let go of everything he needed to.
The first couple of days, Ian simply left Colby alone, to stare out one of the few windows in the two divided room structure as the sniper took the time to clean and do maintenance. He hoped the man would be able to relax enough to get some sleep as the circles under his eyes and his gaunt face attested to the fact he wasn’t getting much.
However, with the dawning of the third day, Ian gently but firmly pulled Colby back to the land of the living, forcing him to eat and bathe. When those two things were done, he took Colby outside, leaving the blond to wander around the area of the cabin as Ian checked the outside and started chopping wood for the fireplace and stove.
He surreptitiously watched as the former solder, former agent, looked around almost uninterestingly. Ian and Hosseini had gotten off lucky. All of them had really; with Colby’s injuries and his flashback, things could have gone so much worse - it could have been a bloodbath. The sniper also knew that there would be few places that would be willing to employ the man for fear of something akin to the situation happening again. After all, you don’t give a gun to someone who may end up turning it against you with a knock on the head. Then again, with Colby’s military training, he wouldn’t even need a gun in most cases.
Like the majority of those with ‘the service gene’, Colby probably wouldn’t feel anything more than worthless if he wasn’t involved in some ‘protective’ career like the military or law enforcement. Ian had a lot of contacts and he was positive that, when the time came, he could help with getting Colby something that would satisfy him job wise. Hell, Colby’s personnel file spoke for itself, the man wouldn’t need any assistance. However, what Colby needed now was lots of rest and to get over the guilt and depression he was currently mired in and that wouldn’t be so easily taken care of.
Ian sighed, shaking his head slightly, continuing to chop wood.
________________________________________
Continue in Part2
Author: TBA
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Title: The Mere Thought (better than working title of ‘Bloodbath’)
Pairing: Ian/Colby
Rating: R
Warnings: Potty mouth/bad words/language; flashback and cognitively impaired images/memories of war; slash content; author creativity. NOT BETEAD; point and I shall correct.
Summary: For the prompt, “Colby has a terrifying flashback of Afghanistan and Ian's the only one who can talk him down.”
Author's Note: At end for the need-to-knowers.
Spoilers: Discussion of things in Ultimatum. Allusions to any and all episodes with Ian Edgerton.
________________________________________
Colby became aware of pain, it was distant at first but as awareness seeped in, going from black to gray to white, the pain became annoying and then grueling and then overwhelming. When he finally opened his eyes, he immediately shut them again. It was so bright; where were his sunglasses? And his helmet?
Opening them again, squinting, he tried to take in his surroundings but all he knew was that he felt sticky, hot and thirsty, he ached all over, his head was killing him and something was wrong with his left leg.
He tried moving around to check his situation but pain drove him into unconsciousness once more.
After coming to again, Colby was able to forcefully move his head around this time, even though it felt like a fifty pound ball of iron on his neck, and found himself at the base of a long, sloping canyon cliff. He’d obviously tumbled down it but as to why or how, Colby didn’t have any clue.
Belatedly he looked around for his rifle but the only weapons he seemed to have on him were a handgun with a couple of extra clips and his knife. Frowning, he tried to move to see more of the area but ended up stuck with his back leaning against a boulder, panting through pain and realizing that his left leg was actually broken. He tried his radio but found only static; the fall down must have damaged it.
Shit.
Raising a hand to his head and, before he could process more than it coming back bloody, he slumped into darkness once more.
It took him awhile to remove his tee-shirt and then tear it into strips to use for bandages after he woke again, fighting to remain conscious as he contemplated his situation. He was stuck in enemy territory and it looked like he had not only lost his rifle in the fall, but his pack as well. In this heat, injured as he was, without water, Colby knew he wouldn’t last long. And if that didn’t kill him, especially if he kept blacking out, the soldiers who found him certainly would.
Colby had no idea where the rest of his unit was but he sincerely hoped that they had been able to find cover and that they’d be able to find him and get him out of the mess he was in.
The wound he assumed was a bullet graze had bled considerably. It had run down his forehead, detouring around his eyebrow and passed his temple then along his jaw where it had mixed with the sweat on his neck. As he bandaged it, the clot bled sluggishly but remained intact.
Given his inability to remain conscious, Colby assumed that there had to be another head wound. Using his fingers to gently feel around, he found only one other which he must have gotten in his fall. From his exploration, Colby could tell that it needed a lot more treatment than he could provide and would soak through the light material he was using in no time. However, he did what he could for it, blacking out a couple of times for a few seconds as he secured the remaining material around it.
Fighting to stay conscious, Colby used his knife to he cut away the pants from his broken leg. With nothing to use for splints he wouldn’t be able to keep it straight, but the sturdy material and his belt would at least provide some cushion and protection for the limb; there just wasn’t anything else he could do.
He must have blacked out again because the next thing he knew, there were two soldiers bending over him and the sound of a helicopter not too far away. Not recognizing the men, Colby knocked one down and grabbed the other, jerking him down and slamming him into the ground. The angles all wrong for him to do anything to truly incapacitate the soldier while he was injured, Colby grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a small rock, and hit the soldier in the head. Seizing the closest enemy’s gun, he targeted the other soldier who was struggling to get back to his feet.
He must have really been out of it to not have awakened as they disarmed and otherwise searched him. Railing at himself, Colby used his rudimentary Pashto to command the soldier to get back on the ground, stay still and silent or he would kill him.
The man looked over at him with eyes gone wide and swallowed, nodding his head in understanding.
With as hurt as he was, Colby wouldn’t stand a chance of getting away from the reinforcements he was sure would descend upon him at any sound of gunfire; the handgun wasn’t meant for long range targets nor did he have the ammunition to sustain him through a firefight. By all rights, he should just kill them both right now and be done with it; however, Colby needed information and using one against the other was a good strategy of getting it.
He frowned slightly at the soldier’s behavior and easy acquiescence but didn’t have time to puzzle anything out as he fought to keep himself from passing out again as he checked for the unconscious soldier’s radio. Finding it, he listened for a moment, hearing all sorts of chatter. As Colby tried to focus his thoughts on how to get in touch with his unit, or the helicopter he could hear - he was sure it was one of theirs - and letting them know his situation, without alerting the enemy, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
He must have blacked out again for just a few seconds because when he blinked his eyes open, the solider on the ground had sat up, attempting to move towards him and the movement that Colby had noticed a moment prior had actually resolved itself into a group of five other soldiers coming towards him.
Raising the gun, which refused to remain steady, Colby commanded the second solider to back off, his finger putting more pressure on the trigger. The man moved away slowly and then sat on his heels but went to the ground when Colby threatened him further.
Colby checked the man nearest him and grimaced in pain and confusion. Hadn’t this been an enemy soldier? Attempting to clear his head, Colby almost shook himself before stopping abruptly. He couldn’t afford to black out again.
Taking a closer look….
No, this was Lieutenant Murphy, code named ‘Rainman’. Thank God his head wound wasn’t bleeding because Colby didn’t have anything else to use for bandages and, while he heard the chopper, Colby didn’t believe it would attempt to get any closer to them with those enemy soldiers right on top of them. He wondered if the rest of his unit was close, he could really use the backup right now.
Resting one hand on the man’s shoulder, Colby gave him a little shake as he looked at the six enemy soldiers in front of him. “Come on, Rain, break time’s over.” He wasn’t expecting a response from the Cincinnati, Ohio, native, but it gave him a measure of comfort to have a friend at his side given the situation.
________________________________________
Special Agent Ian Edgerton felt himself shaken slightly and strove to make sense of his condition as his body ignored his demand of open your fucking eyes and find out what the hell is going on! The last he recalled was that they had all been on a combined operation via the OCDETF to take down a major drug and gun runner out in the desert, east of LA.
This was definitely not the time to not know what the hell was happening!
There’d been three teams of four, with each of them assigned one sniper. While the SOG of the US Marshals had provided them with the sharpshooters and tactical backup, Ian himself had actually been in the area and had volunteered to help with the operation.
Things had been going as well as could be expected, given the situation. DEA and ATF had come at the ‘compound’ in a standard flanking maneuver with Eppes’ team coming in straight on. Ian and the other snipers had excellent high ground for their work, especially with the back of it having pretty much butted up against two natural obstructions - a tall canyon column and a steep cliff.
Until things heated up and the bad guys started panicking that is.
While there had appeared to be a cool head running the illicit operation with the top levels being composed of mostly mercenaries and former military, the bullets currently being sprayed willy-nilly must have been the product of their downline - a mishmash of petty thugs and muscle, with no real brains - as they tried to cover their own escape.
Ian… something….
Granger!
Edgerton’s mind might have slammed into high gear but his body remained almost completely still as he remembered seeing Colby jerk backwards out of the corner of his eye. He’d thought the formidable blond had been killed and had struggled to keep his emotions in check. He used his comm to radio the Medivac helicopter they had had on stand-by, his voice rough, hoping someone would be able to check on the downed agent, hoping that someone found him alive.
As soon as things had calmed down enough for Ian to move without getting shot himself, he’d made his way to where he’d last seen the other man, having heard nothing about him and calling for a situation report, his jaw clenched tight, his gut churning and his chest aching.
However, when the sniper reached Colby’s position to find only a couple of other agents, one on the radio with the helicopter, and no sign of Granger, except for the rifle he’d had with him, Ian couldn’t help but hold his breath. Looking around, he surmised that Colby must have lost his footing, the gravel under his feet rolling, the dirt giving way, which had then sent him over the lip of the wall.
Looking down, Ian’s heart stopped in his chest. Despite the gradualness of the cliff’s slope, if Colby hadn’t been dead when he went over, there was a really good chance he was now.
Communicating his findings to all concerned, Ian and one of the other agents had then attempted to climb down but ended up radioing that it was too dangerous for anyone to try to descend any further without better equipment. Scrambling the little way back up, the sniper growling inwardly at the wasted time, they’d split up to go around the scene to get to the base of the canyon, the helicopter remaining on stand-by.
Ian had met up with Malik Hosseini, one of the DEA agents, coming from the other direction and, together they’d found Granger, alive. Ian had struggled to keep his mask in place and focus on staying professional, assessing and relaying Colby’s condition: unconscious, one leg broken and two head wounds, all of which had been field dressed as well as could be. Colby had obviously been conscious at some point, which was a good thing considering.
Suddenly it all came back and Ian forced himself to keep still this time, focusing on the voices around him, trying to understand why the handsome blond had attacked them.
After listening for a few moments, Ian swallowed, mentally cursing.
Colby was in the midst of a flashback it seemed.
The sniper knew about flashbacks. He’d suffered through a couple himself over the years and knew of many other soldiers who had had to deal with them as well. Sometimes people knew what their triggers were and made a concentrated effort to stay away from them but others struck out of the blue. Given Colby’s condition, it wasn’t any wonder that the former soldier was having one; this was a tailor-made scenario just waiting to happen.
And it was pure luck, good or bad, that the sniper knew exactly what Colby thought was going on and where he thought he was. After all, Ian had been there too, just not ‘officially.’
________________________________________
“Ok, Rainman, I really need you to wake up now and help us get outta here.” Colby’s voice was whisper soft and tense but clearly not expecting Murphy to respond.
Ian forced himself to move slowly, watching as Colby registered him, slight surprise and relief on his face, shoulders losing an infinitesimal amount of tension, but not taking his eyes away from the people in front of him.
“God, Rain, I could really use a hand here, buddy.”
While Ian knew Colby was obviously seeing the soldiers from his flashback, the sniper took in everything at a glance, breathing a little easier finding that Colby hadn’t shot anyone - yet - and that was pretty much all that mattered at the moment. Malik Hosseini was sitting on the ground uninjured while his coworkers Allen Jeffries and Steve Jones, along with Michael Webber from the ATF and Don and David, were stopped several feet away from them.
Looking back to the formidable blond, Ian knew the next step was getting Colby out of the flashback and to stand down. They needed to get him to the hospital; one of the head wounds had looked like a fracture to Ian and it needed immediate medical attention, not to mention getting him out of this heat and his leg.
“Quarterhorse.” Ian’s voice was just as whisper soft.
“Rain, it’s good to have you awake, man.”
“Colby.” The blond briefly glanced at him with a frown, tensing. Ian continued, hoping that his use of Granger’s first name instead of his handle would help reach the injured agent. “I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, Colby, but I’m not Lieutenant Murphy; I’m Ian Edgerton and you aren’t in Afghanistan right now.”
He watched the blond try not to react but Ian had spent a lot of time observing the handsome man throughout the years and could almost see Colby’s mind going over what he just said.
“You’re in California right now, Granger. Afghanistan was about a decade ago and you, and me, are an FBI agent now, not a soldier.” Ian was keeping his voice quiet, an intimate conversation between the two of them.
The sniper heard the huff of air from the blond, obviously trying not to snort, but he wasn’t tensing up or firing the gun… yet.
Ian had raised his voice so the others could hear him now and continued, “Agent Hosseini is with the DEA. We were on a joint operation to take down a drug and gun runner out here when things got a little hot.”
He swallowed, remembering Colby jerking backwards and fought to keep himself calm and his voice steady. “We thought you’d been taken down by a bullet when you were changing your position. It looks like it just grazed you, but you must have fallen down the cliff.” Edgerton gave a nod to Colby’s head wounds and broken leg.
Ian watched as Colby tried to split his attention between the ‘enemy soldiers’ and his obviously ‘delirious partner’ given the man’s slight change in expression. He then tilted his head towards the other agents without breaking eye contact with Colby.
“The guy on the far right is your boss and the one close to him is your partner. The other three are DEA and ATF.” Ian’s voice had gone quiet again and then made a gesture to Don.
Don didn’t move forward, but he gave the gun he was holding to David and then slowly began to move his right hand towards the back right pocket of his jeans, intending on getting his identification.
“I’m Special Agent Don Eppes. I’m your boss and team leader for the Violent Crimes Unit of the LA FBI office. I’m going to get my ID out and toss it to you, ok, Colby?”
________________________________________
Colby’s head hurt, his leg hurt, hell… everything hurt…. And now, Murphy was claiming to be sniper legend Ian Edgerton and telling him that he wasn’t where he knew… where he thought… he was?
The blond wanted to shake his head with frustration but knew that that would be a world-class bad idea. Not only did he have to content with his own injuries now, but he had to figure out how to keep Murphy, who was obviously way out there, from doing anything that would get the both of them killed outright.
The guy Murphy said was Colby’s boss, how did the soldier know his name - Murphy hadn’t said it loud enough for the man to hear - started to reach for something inside his uniform and Colby tensed, trying to watch all the soldiers at the same time while using his weaning strength to keep the gun pointed at the other man’s chest. No matter how hard he tried though, Colby couldn’t keep it from shaking; he was at the end of his endurance and he knew he had to decide what to do before he blacked out again, possibly for the very last time.
________________________________________
Ian could see Colby trying to think his way through all that was happening, understanding he wasn’t believing what Ian, what Murphy, was telling him, seeing Colby’s finger tighten just a bit on the trigger.
Ian motioned for everyone to hold still and Don froze, his hand almost to his back pocket.
“Colby.” When Granger kept his eyes and gun focused on the other agents, Ian chanced touching the blonde’s knee to get his attention.
The sniper looked into the blonde’s green eyes, hoping Colby would, could see the truth of what he was saying reflected there.
“Colby, what if I am Ian Edgerton? What if everything I’m telling you is true? Are you going to try and kill five or six innocent people, perhaps getting both of us killed too, with the belief that you’re right and I’m lying to you?”
“And if you’re wrong?” Colby’s voice rang with his own conviction, the determination to do anything he could to keep Murphy and himself alive.
Ian leaned forward a bit, squeezing Colby’s knee slightly, “Have I ever lied to you?” Colby squinted a little and the sniper continued.
“Colby, they aren’t going to shoot you. They aren’t going to shoot me. They aren’t going to capture us or torture us. All they’re going to do is call in the Medievac helicopter and get you to a hospital.”
He watched as Colby turned back to the group in front of him, silent.
“Just listen to me for just one minute.” Ian fought to keep himself calm. He had to get Colby to stand down because if he pulled that trigger, this would be nothing short of a bloodbath.
“Please, Colby, just listen.”
Something must have come through because the man looked back to him and Ian seized the chance.
“Could it be you who’s not seeing this situation for what it is; you’ve got a fractured skull, you fell down a cliff… you broke your leg and you were unconscious when we found you.”
The uncertainty was clear in the former soldier’s eyes.
“Come on, Colby, we need to get you to the hospital.”
He could see Granger’s brain trying to sort things out but they didn’t have time; Colby’s head was still bleeding and he’d been out in this sun for too long without medical attention already.
“Trust me, Colby. Please.”
Colby swallowed, his breathing having sped up slightly, the gun in his hand shaking even more.
“Please,” Ian repeated, his voice almost cracking this time with how tense it was, with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check.
Colby’s gun hand started to lower, but Ian would never know if it was because of his plea or if it was because the formidable blond had finally reached the end of his stamina, because Colby’s eyes rolled up in his head and all at once his body slumped; the sniper barely catching him to prevent his head from hitting the ground.
________________________________________
At the hospital, once he’d been moved out of ICU and the haze from all the medications had lessened, Colby had struggled to recall what had happened during the raid, having been confronted with the charges against him.
While it was clear no one blamed him for what had happened, Colby had still attacked two federal officers and held others at gunpoint and it had taken the formidable blond hearing the accounts of others who’d been on the scene and putting them together with his own fractured memories, for him to grasp the situation.
Ian, after getting checked out and given a relatively clean bill of health, had stayed as close to the blond as possible. When Colby had been released with supervision, he had volunteered for duty, although the irony of someone with his own head injury watching over someone with even worse was not lost on him. However, with all the visitors dropping by Granger’s apartment throughout the following days of their recovery, it wasn’t a problem.
Despite everything Ian and everyone else did or said though, Colby had slowly sunk into a depression so debilitating that it was actually beginning to affect his convalescence.
And Ian finally decided drastic measures were called for.
________________________________________
Kidnapping Colby was relatively easy given the man’s state of mind. Ian took him to a cabin he used for when he felt the need for sanctuary from the demands and consequences of his own life. The place was somewhat small; it didn’t show up on any maps and was relatively completely self-contained and there were no two-legged neighbors for at least fifty miles in any direction.
Ian believed the blond needed time to grieve and rail against what had happened and he knew Colby would not do that back in Los Angeles, not with friends, co-workers and others constantly dropping by or checking in on him. This was the perfect place and, Ian also believed, himself the perfect companion, for Colby to just… let go of everything he needed to.
The first couple of days, Ian simply left Colby alone, to stare out one of the few windows in the two divided room structure as the sniper took the time to clean and do maintenance. He hoped the man would be able to relax enough to get some sleep as the circles under his eyes and his gaunt face attested to the fact he wasn’t getting much.
However, with the dawning of the third day, Ian gently but firmly pulled Colby back to the land of the living, forcing him to eat and bathe. When those two things were done, he took Colby outside, leaving the blond to wander around the area of the cabin as Ian checked the outside and started chopping wood for the fireplace and stove.
He surreptitiously watched as the former solder, former agent, looked around almost uninterestingly. Ian and Hosseini had gotten off lucky. All of them had really; with Colby’s injuries and his flashback, things could have gone so much worse - it could have been a bloodbath. The sniper also knew that there would be few places that would be willing to employ the man for fear of something akin to the situation happening again. After all, you don’t give a gun to someone who may end up turning it against you with a knock on the head. Then again, with Colby’s military training, he wouldn’t even need a gun in most cases.
Like the majority of those with ‘the service gene’, Colby probably wouldn’t feel anything more than worthless if he wasn’t involved in some ‘protective’ career like the military or law enforcement. Ian had a lot of contacts and he was positive that, when the time came, he could help with getting Colby something that would satisfy him job wise. Hell, Colby’s personnel file spoke for itself, the man wouldn’t need any assistance. However, what Colby needed now was lots of rest and to get over the guilt and depression he was currently mired in and that wouldn’t be so easily taken care of.
Ian sighed, shaking his head slightly, continuing to chop wood.
________________________________________
Continue in Part2