FIC: "Happy birthday, my slave," 3/3 (Amita/OMC, Amita/Charlie, implied Charlie/Colby, R)
This is the last part of this little Amita series. Enjoy, tell me what you think, I'm always open to comments. :)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY SLAVE, Part 3/3
* * *
Title: “Happy birthday, my slave,” Part 3/3
Characters/pairings: Amita/OMC, Amita/Charlie, implied Charlie/Colby (overall)
Genre: Het/Slash
Rating: R for violence.
Spoilers: 4.11 “Breaking point”
Summary: Torture gets worse. Amita's kidnapper gets an idea into her head that she won’t be able to forget.
A/N: This is a fic inspired by the latest challenge on the n3_challenge community, “Amita’s birthday.” This story is related to The Connections Series written by me, and takes place during chapters 1 to 4. Anyways, I needed to torture Amita a little more. I promise this is the last time… if I don’t have another idea. ;) I'm sharing my craziness here! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs or anything related to it.
Beta: The lovely toomuchfandom.
Go to "Happy birthday, my slave," Part 2/3, R
* * *
The images on the laptop screen showed Charlie and Colby talking in a deserted, quiet place where you could see the entire city.
“When I was being held on that freighter and they had me handcuffed and Lancer was sticking me with needles, there’s one thing that kept me going. That was knowing that my team was coming for me. No matter how screwed up things had gotten, that you, and David, and Megan, and Don were working hard and you were going to come through that door. The thing is Bonnie Parks -she doesn’t have a team, she’s got nobody. And she’s locked up, handcuffed in the dark -I don’t know what. But what I do know is that I want to be the one who comes through that door for her.”
Colby’s voice made Amita start wondering what the hell was Patrick’s point to make her watch that conversation. He was knelt on the floor, waving his lighter to her, watching the way it illuminated the little drops of sweat that were running down her face.
Amita tried to concentrate on the video and not think about the fact that Patrick was so close to her with something that could turn into a weapon. She discovered that her boyfriend and Colby were talking about the Bonnie Parks case, and she concluded that the tape had to be from a few months ago.
She focused on the voices she could hear. After Colby’s words, Charlie started to get nervous.
“I wanna help you… but I can not control what’s going on in my head. You don’t understand.”
Colby responded.
“No, that’s the thing, Charlie. I do understand. ‘Cause I went through this exact same thing when I first saw a combat in Afghanistan. You have to talk about the attack. Every detail, every memory, every thought that went through your head when it was happening. You can’t keep it all locked inside of your head. You can’t just keep going around telling everybody you’re fine.”
Suddenly, Charlie broke. His entire body was trembling.
“Well, obviously I’m not fine.”
Colby was an amazing support.
“That’s why you gotta do something about it. It doesn’t matter how scared you were; it doesn’t matter if you wet your pants, man. There’s nobody out here that’s gonna hear it.”
“Now here it comes the good part,” Patrick muttered, and he sat on the floor, next to Amita. He laid his back on the wall, still holding the lighter. “Enjoy the show, dear.”
After a few seconds, Charlie started to tell Colby everything that he had felt during the car chase that had almost taken his life.
“I was just… driving. I just hang up the phone with Don and…”
“He told Agent Granger everything… Everything he hadn’t shared with you…” Patrick started talking, while he played with the flame of the lighter, running his palm over it watching the fire move along with it. “He trusted him and not his girlfriend… What do you think that means?”
“It means nothing,” Amita responded, and she was annoyed by Patrick’s suggestions.
“Really? What happened when you saw the two of them after their little encounter?”
“Nothing weird.” However, inside Amita’s head, she had seen something strange going on between Charlie and Colby. She remembered getting into her boyfriend’s garage and finding them writing equations and marking maps like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to do. They had never shared that level of trust; they had never worked together like that.
Charlie had never kept his fears from Amita. He had never hidden his feelings from her and told somebody else.
But this time he had.
All of a sudden, Patrick’s words started to make sense in some odd way she had no idea where it had come from. That couldn’t be what he was suggesting, there was no way.
And then he whispered into her ear, caressing her hair softly, “Yeah, that’s it. You’re remembering the first time you saw their new connection. And you’re realizing that from that moment on, you weren’t the one Charlie wanted to be with.”
Amita held her breath, and she could hear Patrick singing again, waving the lighter in front of her. “Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday, my slave… Happy birthday to you…” Then he laughed and stared at the woman he had kidnapped just a few hours ago. “Aren’t you enjoying my present? Isn’t’ it great when gifts come in advance?”
“Shut up,” she whimpered, trying to control herself. She started remembering all the times she had seen Charlie and Colby together after the Bonnie Parks case. Every memory brought a dark shadow that held her heart and squeezed it until it hurt.
“You’re the one who should shut up. Look at you, Amita. You’re helpless. No one’s going to come for you. No one.”
“They will come for me. Just like they came for Colby.”
“I can’t believe you think that. They don’t know where you are. There’s no way they can find out about this place. We’re out of the city. There’s usually no one here, apart from the people who want to be alone… and they want to be alone for a reason.” Patrick told her. Amita didn’t have to think long to know what that reason might be, but she did know that the FBI would have a field day.
Fear started to take over Amita’s mental state, and she found herself thinking the way Patrick did. Charlie didn’t love her. Charlie wanted another man. And Charlie was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
“Now that you’ve opened my present, don’t you wanna thank me?” Patrick asked.
“Thank you for what? For ruining my life?” she said.
“So that means you’ve realized the truth… I’m proud of you, my slave.”
“I’m not your slave!” Amita couldn’t take the psychological torture anymore. This time she cried and yanked at the chains that were keeping her still.
That turned out to be a bad move. She knew that she shouldn’t have broken in front of Patrick, because that would give him the signal that he had complete power over her and that as a result, he could do whatever he wanted with her.
Amita’s weakness meant that he could treat her like his personal slave, no matter how much she insisted that she wasn’t that for him.
“You are my slave… Don’t you see? You’re crying…, trembling…, and beautiful as always. And I can do with you anything that runs through my head.”
Slowly, he put his lighter away, but he pulled out his knife again. This time he wasn’t playing anymore. He cut her arms and legs in such a way that it would be bad, it would hurt, but she wouldn’t die of the blood loss. And he was enjoying himself at her expense.
She screamed every time he made another cut ton her body, and when the physical torture ended, she was left to watch herself bleed without any kind of bandage she could use to hold the fluids from her body. Amita cried and writhed.
“I told you that you’d learn to like the pain,” Patrick murmured, and he went to get something from his bag. He pulled out a lot of things, like a fusil and some grenades ready to be used. But what he was looking for was a cell phone. When he found it, he came back to where Amita was and covered her mouth while he dialed a number. “Saint Fate Motel? Yes, good afternoon. I’d like to make a reservation for tonight. Yes, your best room.” Like he was the most charming person ever, he laughed and tried to sound very polite and kind. “Well, this is a special occasion. Me and my girlfriend, we just got married… Yeah, our families were against it, but we did it anyway… It was one of those cheap weddings that make it all more magical than the whole planned ceremony… It was so beautiful. She was so beautiful. She’s right here with me, and she can not wait for us to get there for our honeymoon…” He held Amita’s gaze with a wicked grin on his face. “Room four. That’s fantastic. No, don’t worry about the price. All we want is to have some fun.”
He hung up and caressed Amita’s sweaty skin. “Mmm… you don’t look good. I guess the fun will be only for me.” Then the man laid down on the bed and played the video again on his laptop. This time, he didn’t let Amita see it, he watched it himself only for kicks.
But Amita could hear Charlie and Colby’s voices, and every time Patrick laughed or muttered something to himself, she couldn’t help thinking about his theory. It was a slow torture that seemed to never come to an end.
Patrick fell asleep when the video ended. Silence took over the room, there were no sounds except the man’s heavy breathing. Amita was still trembling and in pain, but at least she knew where Patrick was going to take her. She could come up with a plan so that Don and the team would find her. Someone had to have seen the moment she was kidnapped, even if it seemed like nobody had. Someone would talk to her friends and they would find a way to get to her, just like they had done it when Colby was in danger.
The wallpaper of the room was horrible and depressing, little pale pink roses with stripes of white and red. She didn’t have any instrument to leave a message, except her own body.
She used her fingernails to scratch the wallpaper, writing a series of symbols that only Charlie would be able to understand. It was a code that she could easily calculate so that it represented some letters in his new book, “Mathematical Analysis of Friendship Dynamics.”
It was very hard for her to write her message, given the awkward position she was in, and the pain she felt in her arms. But she ruined her nails and her fingers, writing on the wall only imagining what the letters would look like if they were on a mirror.
She described in a few words the original conditions of the kidnapping, and then she tried to calm down and rest. She had done everything she could. Now it was fate’s turn to bring some luck to her life.
The morning after, she felt numb and her body didn’t want to cooperate with her brain’s instructions. She had lost quite the amount of blood, and she couldn’t fight Patrick and stop him from taking her to the Saint Fate Motel.
Amita still responded to the hotel hosts’ screams when Patrick was killing him, which was a good thing, it meant that she was still alert even though she felt as if she was about to pass out.
She didn’t listen to anything he said to her in the new room. She didn’t even know what the place looked like. All she wanted was to go to sleep.
The last thing she heard was the door being opened, and Don’s voice saying, “You’re ok, sweetie. Everything’s ok now. We’ll take you home.” Then everything turned black.
When she opened her eyes again, she was at the hospital. The first thing she did was jump in her bed and grabbed the sheets like she was afraid that Patrick was still there. But then she realized that it was Don, Megan, David and Colby the ones that were surrounding her. She relaxed at the sight of them, and asked where her kidnapper was.
“We got him. Patrick’s in jail now. You don’t need to worry about him anymore,” Don assured her.
Immediately, Larry and Charlie got into the room. Amita kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and held him tight, feeling him shake. He was so worried about her. He had been the one to break the code and bring her back to safety. She was so thankful that he was the person who was sharing his life with her.
Nevertheless, her happiness was over when she saw Charlie turn around only to put his arms around Colby. “Thanks for bringing her home, Colby. Thank you so much,” she heard her boyfriend say, and she swallowed hard. Amita could now see something in the way both men looked at each other, especially after Colby had helped Charlie to solve the case.
She tried to get that thought out of her head, and the fact that Charlie remained at the hospital to make her company helped her a lot. They talked about equations, about the code itself, about how much Colby had contributed to Amita’s rescue. Now the agent seemed to be harmless. He had just helped Charlie out to save his girlfriend, nothing more.
Amita started to feel happy for Charlie. After all, he had made a new friend, and that was a good thing.
But when Charlie felt asleep and muttered Colby’s name and the word “kiss” in the same sentence, Amita’s world completely shattered and she knew for sure that Patrick, her crazy sadistic ex-boyfriend, had been right all along. His present had opened her eyes, and the fact that he had give it to her before her birthday was going to bring some very back luck to everyone’s lives.
THE END OF “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY SLAVE”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY SLAVE, Part 3/3
* * *
Title: “Happy birthday, my slave,” Part 3/3
Characters/pairings: Amita/OMC, Amita/Charlie, implied Charlie/Colby (overall)
Genre: Het/Slash
Rating: R for violence.
Spoilers: 4.11 “Breaking point”
Summary: Torture gets worse. Amita's kidnapper gets an idea into her head that she won’t be able to forget.
A/N: This is a fic inspired by the latest challenge on the n3_challenge community, “Amita’s birthday.” This story is related to The Connections Series written by me, and takes place during chapters 1 to 4. Anyways, I needed to torture Amita a little more. I promise this is the last time… if I don’t have another idea. ;) I'm sharing my craziness here! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs or anything related to it.
Beta: The lovely toomuchfandom.
Go to "Happy birthday, my slave," Part 2/3, R
* * *
The images on the laptop screen showed Charlie and Colby talking in a deserted, quiet place where you could see the entire city.
“When I was being held on that freighter and they had me handcuffed and Lancer was sticking me with needles, there’s one thing that kept me going. That was knowing that my team was coming for me. No matter how screwed up things had gotten, that you, and David, and Megan, and Don were working hard and you were going to come through that door. The thing is Bonnie Parks -she doesn’t have a team, she’s got nobody. And she’s locked up, handcuffed in the dark -I don’t know what. But what I do know is that I want to be the one who comes through that door for her.”
Colby’s voice made Amita start wondering what the hell was Patrick’s point to make her watch that conversation. He was knelt on the floor, waving his lighter to her, watching the way it illuminated the little drops of sweat that were running down her face.
Amita tried to concentrate on the video and not think about the fact that Patrick was so close to her with something that could turn into a weapon. She discovered that her boyfriend and Colby were talking about the Bonnie Parks case, and she concluded that the tape had to be from a few months ago.
She focused on the voices she could hear. After Colby’s words, Charlie started to get nervous.
“I wanna help you… but I can not control what’s going on in my head. You don’t understand.”
Colby responded.
“No, that’s the thing, Charlie. I do understand. ‘Cause I went through this exact same thing when I first saw a combat in Afghanistan. You have to talk about the attack. Every detail, every memory, every thought that went through your head when it was happening. You can’t keep it all locked inside of your head. You can’t just keep going around telling everybody you’re fine.”
Suddenly, Charlie broke. His entire body was trembling.
“Well, obviously I’m not fine.”
Colby was an amazing support.
“That’s why you gotta do something about it. It doesn’t matter how scared you were; it doesn’t matter if you wet your pants, man. There’s nobody out here that’s gonna hear it.”
“Now here it comes the good part,” Patrick muttered, and he sat on the floor, next to Amita. He laid his back on the wall, still holding the lighter. “Enjoy the show, dear.”
After a few seconds, Charlie started to tell Colby everything that he had felt during the car chase that had almost taken his life.
“I was just… driving. I just hang up the phone with Don and…”
“He told Agent Granger everything… Everything he hadn’t shared with you…” Patrick started talking, while he played with the flame of the lighter, running his palm over it watching the fire move along with it. “He trusted him and not his girlfriend… What do you think that means?”
“It means nothing,” Amita responded, and she was annoyed by Patrick’s suggestions.
“Really? What happened when you saw the two of them after their little encounter?”
“Nothing weird.” However, inside Amita’s head, she had seen something strange going on between Charlie and Colby. She remembered getting into her boyfriend’s garage and finding them writing equations and marking maps like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to do. They had never shared that level of trust; they had never worked together like that.
Charlie had never kept his fears from Amita. He had never hidden his feelings from her and told somebody else.
But this time he had.
All of a sudden, Patrick’s words started to make sense in some odd way she had no idea where it had come from. That couldn’t be what he was suggesting, there was no way.
And then he whispered into her ear, caressing her hair softly, “Yeah, that’s it. You’re remembering the first time you saw their new connection. And you’re realizing that from that moment on, you weren’t the one Charlie wanted to be with.”
Amita held her breath, and she could hear Patrick singing again, waving the lighter in front of her. “Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday, my slave… Happy birthday to you…” Then he laughed and stared at the woman he had kidnapped just a few hours ago. “Aren’t you enjoying my present? Isn’t’ it great when gifts come in advance?”
“Shut up,” she whimpered, trying to control herself. She started remembering all the times she had seen Charlie and Colby together after the Bonnie Parks case. Every memory brought a dark shadow that held her heart and squeezed it until it hurt.
“You’re the one who should shut up. Look at you, Amita. You’re helpless. No one’s going to come for you. No one.”
“They will come for me. Just like they came for Colby.”
“I can’t believe you think that. They don’t know where you are. There’s no way they can find out about this place. We’re out of the city. There’s usually no one here, apart from the people who want to be alone… and they want to be alone for a reason.” Patrick told her. Amita didn’t have to think long to know what that reason might be, but she did know that the FBI would have a field day.
Fear started to take over Amita’s mental state, and she found herself thinking the way Patrick did. Charlie didn’t love her. Charlie wanted another man. And Charlie was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
“Now that you’ve opened my present, don’t you wanna thank me?” Patrick asked.
“Thank you for what? For ruining my life?” she said.
“So that means you’ve realized the truth… I’m proud of you, my slave.”
“I’m not your slave!” Amita couldn’t take the psychological torture anymore. This time she cried and yanked at the chains that were keeping her still.
That turned out to be a bad move. She knew that she shouldn’t have broken in front of Patrick, because that would give him the signal that he had complete power over her and that as a result, he could do whatever he wanted with her.
Amita’s weakness meant that he could treat her like his personal slave, no matter how much she insisted that she wasn’t that for him.
“You are my slave… Don’t you see? You’re crying…, trembling…, and beautiful as always. And I can do with you anything that runs through my head.”
Slowly, he put his lighter away, but he pulled out his knife again. This time he wasn’t playing anymore. He cut her arms and legs in such a way that it would be bad, it would hurt, but she wouldn’t die of the blood loss. And he was enjoying himself at her expense.
She screamed every time he made another cut ton her body, and when the physical torture ended, she was left to watch herself bleed without any kind of bandage she could use to hold the fluids from her body. Amita cried and writhed.
“I told you that you’d learn to like the pain,” Patrick murmured, and he went to get something from his bag. He pulled out a lot of things, like a fusil and some grenades ready to be used. But what he was looking for was a cell phone. When he found it, he came back to where Amita was and covered her mouth while he dialed a number. “Saint Fate Motel? Yes, good afternoon. I’d like to make a reservation for tonight. Yes, your best room.” Like he was the most charming person ever, he laughed and tried to sound very polite and kind. “Well, this is a special occasion. Me and my girlfriend, we just got married… Yeah, our families were against it, but we did it anyway… It was one of those cheap weddings that make it all more magical than the whole planned ceremony… It was so beautiful. She was so beautiful. She’s right here with me, and she can not wait for us to get there for our honeymoon…” He held Amita’s gaze with a wicked grin on his face. “Room four. That’s fantastic. No, don’t worry about the price. All we want is to have some fun.”
He hung up and caressed Amita’s sweaty skin. “Mmm… you don’t look good. I guess the fun will be only for me.” Then the man laid down on the bed and played the video again on his laptop. This time, he didn’t let Amita see it, he watched it himself only for kicks.
But Amita could hear Charlie and Colby’s voices, and every time Patrick laughed or muttered something to himself, she couldn’t help thinking about his theory. It was a slow torture that seemed to never come to an end.
Patrick fell asleep when the video ended. Silence took over the room, there were no sounds except the man’s heavy breathing. Amita was still trembling and in pain, but at least she knew where Patrick was going to take her. She could come up with a plan so that Don and the team would find her. Someone had to have seen the moment she was kidnapped, even if it seemed like nobody had. Someone would talk to her friends and they would find a way to get to her, just like they had done it when Colby was in danger.
The wallpaper of the room was horrible and depressing, little pale pink roses with stripes of white and red. She didn’t have any instrument to leave a message, except her own body.
She used her fingernails to scratch the wallpaper, writing a series of symbols that only Charlie would be able to understand. It was a code that she could easily calculate so that it represented some letters in his new book, “Mathematical Analysis of Friendship Dynamics.”
It was very hard for her to write her message, given the awkward position she was in, and the pain she felt in her arms. But she ruined her nails and her fingers, writing on the wall only imagining what the letters would look like if they were on a mirror.
She described in a few words the original conditions of the kidnapping, and then she tried to calm down and rest. She had done everything she could. Now it was fate’s turn to bring some luck to her life.
The morning after, she felt numb and her body didn’t want to cooperate with her brain’s instructions. She had lost quite the amount of blood, and she couldn’t fight Patrick and stop him from taking her to the Saint Fate Motel.
Amita still responded to the hotel hosts’ screams when Patrick was killing him, which was a good thing, it meant that she was still alert even though she felt as if she was about to pass out.
She didn’t listen to anything he said to her in the new room. She didn’t even know what the place looked like. All she wanted was to go to sleep.
The last thing she heard was the door being opened, and Don’s voice saying, “You’re ok, sweetie. Everything’s ok now. We’ll take you home.” Then everything turned black.
When she opened her eyes again, she was at the hospital. The first thing she did was jump in her bed and grabbed the sheets like she was afraid that Patrick was still there. But then she realized that it was Don, Megan, David and Colby the ones that were surrounding her. She relaxed at the sight of them, and asked where her kidnapper was.
“We got him. Patrick’s in jail now. You don’t need to worry about him anymore,” Don assured her.
Immediately, Larry and Charlie got into the room. Amita kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and held him tight, feeling him shake. He was so worried about her. He had been the one to break the code and bring her back to safety. She was so thankful that he was the person who was sharing his life with her.
Nevertheless, her happiness was over when she saw Charlie turn around only to put his arms around Colby. “Thanks for bringing her home, Colby. Thank you so much,” she heard her boyfriend say, and she swallowed hard. Amita could now see something in the way both men looked at each other, especially after Colby had helped Charlie to solve the case.
She tried to get that thought out of her head, and the fact that Charlie remained at the hospital to make her company helped her a lot. They talked about equations, about the code itself, about how much Colby had contributed to Amita’s rescue. Now the agent seemed to be harmless. He had just helped Charlie out to save his girlfriend, nothing more.
Amita started to feel happy for Charlie. After all, he had made a new friend, and that was a good thing.
But when Charlie felt asleep and muttered Colby’s name and the word “kiss” in the same sentence, Amita’s world completely shattered and she knew for sure that Patrick, her crazy sadistic ex-boyfriend, had been right all along. His present had opened her eyes, and the fact that he had give it to her before her birthday was going to bring some very back luck to everyone’s lives.
THE END OF “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY SLAVE”