FIC: In the Arms of The Wicked, Part 1 (Charlie/Colby, Don, David, mention of OMC, PG-13)
Title: "Backup"
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 1/?
Characters: Charlie/Colby, Don, David, mention of other characters and OMC.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: During hard times, we all need backup - for better or for worse.
Feedback: Yes, please. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The wonderful fredbassett.
Next chapter
Part 1: "Backup"
“I can fix it… I swear I can… I can make it go away, I can erase what happened, I promise I’ll do anything that’ll make you feel better…”
Wherever Charlie turned around, the image of a broken man in the corner of the room appeared in front of his eyes.
Charlie couldn’t run. He couldn’t escape. He had to make himself responsible for his pain.
But before he could make the first step, the walls of the room disappeared and the teary eyes of the man met Charlie’s. Water started to fill the room, displacing every tiny mass of air.
“No… Colby, please…” Charlie said as salty water dampened his clothes, and he tried to reach for the other man, to catch him before a tragedy happened…
Finally, there was no more air, no more space in which to breathe. Desperate, he swam towards Colby, who wasn’t trying to save himself - his eyes staring at Charlie, blinking.
Until they stopped.
Charlie screamed under the water, bubbles blocking his view.
There was no time and no hope.
“Colby…”
“Charlie.”
“Please, don’t… Stay with me, reach for my hand…”
“Charlie.”
A hand on his arm made Charlie wake up. His eyes were full of tears and the feeling of losing his lover was still alive, making his heart ache heavily.
He rubbed his eyes, stressed and tired from what he had seen when he was sleeping. Then he heard Don’s voice again.
“Buddy, are you ok?”
Charlie just stared at his brother, recognized his worried expression and his need to help. Then he looked around; he was at the coffee table, which was full of papers filled with numbers; he had been keeping his mind busy in his brother’s apartment. The house had been abandoned for a few days after it had been included as crime scene in Amita’s case file.
He ran his palms over his face, trying to release some stress before speaking. “Yeah… I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You had a nightmare about… Colby?” Don asked. It seemed that he was being careful not to push a sensitive button.
As he took a deep breath, Charlie realized that he didn’t know if he wanted to talk about his dream or not. But he was sure he wanted the horrible feelings to go away.
“C’mon, sit on the couch, take a break. You’ve been working on those equations since I left to the hospital. I’ll get you a beer.”
As he watched Don get into the kitchen, Charlie remembered that his father was still at the hospital. He was glad there were good doctors there...
Doctors who had discovered, three days ago, that Amita was pregnant.
Maybe relaxing was a good idea, after all. Charlie sat on the couch, resting his hands on his legs, and waited. Even if it had been a few days since his kidnapping had ended, he still felt so exhausted. His body didn’t want to respond to most of his brain’s commands.
He was thankful to see his brother coming back from the kitchen soon, holding two beers. “Here you go,” Don said, handing one to him.
“Thanks.”
Don sat on another couch in front of him and sipped his beer. “Do you want to talk about it - I mean, the nightmare?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said, staring at his bottle, hoping Don would understand that the real, implicit answer was “No.”
“Ok.” His brother muttered, and spent a moment in silence before continuing. “So, is Larry getting that replacement he’s been talking about or what?”
It was evident that Don was trying to change the subject to make Charlie’s mind get away from the madness of the last days. It was all he had been doing since Ian and David had put Amita’s insanity to an end. So Charlie answered, “I’m not sure, but I think he will.”
“What’s the guy’s name again?”
“Dr. Christopher Farrow.”
“Yeah, I remember now… You know, I never, ever expected to relate Larry to the tabloids.”
Charlie didn’t expect to find that comment irresistibly funny, but he did, and he laughed about it. It amazed him how he was able to find entertainment in words while his heart and his mind felt about to die. “The tabloids are just a tiny part of Dr. Farrow’s life, he’s a professional.”
“Have you met him?”
“No, but Larry’s told me a lot about him. I’m sure the real person will be different than the one I imagine, but it’ll be a pleasure to have him at CalSci. He’s well-known in his field.”
“And… the tabloids,” Don added, the corner of his mouth curving into a witty smile.
“Yeah, right, that will be a huge change,” Charlie answered, mimicking Don’s expression. “Speaking of which, would you mind if I ask you how David is? I mean, he and Amita… they could be having a baby,” he continued, and he had to swallow because every idea on that matter that went through his mind was disturbing and it hurt so much. “But of course, it could be mine, or even Berenson’s.”
Don’s silence made him feel even more awkward that he already felt, and for a moment, getting up and escaping seemed to be best solution. But when Charlie got up, Don did the same; he even put a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder...
But that kind of support wasn’t enough anymore, and Don seemed to know it. Charlie could tell when he was embraced by warm arms, protecting him.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie. I really am.” Those were Don’s first words. “If there’s anything I can do for you, you know you can count on me.”
“Mmhm…” Unexpectedly, Charlie only wanted to cry. He and Don didn’t hold each other frequently. They knew they loved each other and that they would always be together as family, but physical proofs of affection weren’t something they were used to.
Don’s arms tightened around him, becoming a shield that would keep him safe from harm whenever he could, and even when he couldn’t. “It’s OK. Breathe.”
It took Charlie a minute to recover a tiny part of his soul from the bad feelings of having his world turned upside down. The worst part was that bad memories couldn’t be erased, as the consequences of them would be with him forever.
When Don let go and they both sat down again, he tried to organize his thoughts about the new life that was waiting for everybody to live it. “How’s…?”
“Amita?”
“Yeah…” It was better that Don said it; just pronouncing her name was a deeply painful experience for Charlie.
“As she’s attacked two FBI agents, a DOJ psychiatrist and the family of another agent, one of the relatives being an important consultant…” Don swallowed as he continued. “She’ll have to stay in the country until a judge determines her mental state. If she’s declared not to be in her senses, her parents will ask to be able to take her to India.”
“I see.” There was something horrible about that possibility.
But again, Don knew. “We’ll find a way for you, or David or whoever’s the father of that child to be able to see him or her, alright? I promise we will.”
“But how are they going to analyze her case? Part of the files disappeared right after Ian…” The image of the sniper shooting Amita while David had her against the wall, crying and yelling in desperation, was too much for Charlie to continue that sentence. “I mean, if someone inside the FBI is willing to erase evidence, then what guarantees do we have left?”
Don was unexpectedly silent; Charlie just assumed that he was wondering who could have done such things against the rules. “I guess… none,” his brother muttered. “But hey, look at our jobs, look at what’s happened. There’s no guarantee of anything at all… there’s only control over your actions, Charlie.”
That response was a little bit hard, but it was filled with truth. The only thing Charlie could do was decide what his next step would be. “You know, in the nightmare I just had,” he confessed, and he saw Don nodding, willing to listen. “I was in my room, at the house and Colby was everywhere I went. Then there was water all around us, we were drowning, and he didn’t swim. He didn’t swim… and I couldn’t save him.”
Thoughtful, Don frowned and asked, “OK. Maybe that means you want to help him…”
“I know that these dreams are supposed to tell me something that I’m not aware of.” Charlie’s nightmare about Colby felt like an echo of the time he had seen his beloved mother in his dreams. “But this time, I already know that he’s going to leave me.”
“What? No, Charlie. I’m sure he’s not.”
“He is, because I’m not able to help him. Why wouldn’t he, anyway?”
Leaning his back on the couch, Don raised his hands. “Alright then, if that’s what you want to believe right now. But that’s not true and you know it,” he said. “As weird as it sounds, I’ve seen it in his eyes when you guys talk. And I’ve seen it in yours, too.”
Both brothers shared a long moment, in which they simply stared at each other in silence. Then Don left his beer on the coffee table and got up.
“You’re leaving already?” Charlie asked as he watched him grab his jacket.
“Yeah, I gotta go check on David, he hasn’t been answering his phone. I just came home to grab a beer and talk to my little brother about life for a while…” Don answered, a crooked smile spreading over his lips.
Again, Charlie smiled as a reflection of him. “Well… I think I’m not that little anymore, Don.”
Don snorted as he put on his jacket. “That’s right. See you in a couple of hours.”
When the door was closed behind his brother, Charlie told himself that he’d go to see his father at the hospital because they would certainly enjoy each other’s company and support. Family was the fundamental part of his life right now.
And then there was Colby - Charlie just hoped they could manage to survive the uncertainty of the chaos they’d see from now on every time they looked ahead.
XxX
The bottle of vodka wasn’t empty yet; David kept drinking it slowly as if it was merely an innocent beer. It had been a few weeks since he had been found at his apartment, almost unconscious from the alcohol.
But now Colby finally understood it all.
Both friends were seated on the floor around David’s coffee table, not speaking. Sometimes their eyes were fixed on each other; occasionally, there was something they want to tell, something they wanted to share, but it always ended up hanging in the air, not really being put into the right words.
The apartment’s bell rang a few times, and none of them moved. Colby knew that his body wouldn’t react when he asked it to walk to the door.
Don’s voice came out of nowhere, but none of them responded; it was only the voice mail of David’s phone.
“Hey, David… I’m outside, could you let me in if you’re there? If you have a minute, I’d like to know how you’re doing and if you’ve thought about attending that appointment with Megan or something,” their boss explained.
“Are you going to get that?” Colby finally asked, worried about his friend, even through the state of not caring about anything at the moment. When David kept sipping his vodka, he knew the answer and even agreed with his decision.
But Don’s message wasn’t over yet. “I’d also like to discuss… you know what… but it seems you’re not there, so I guess we’ll talk some other time. Just remember that my offer still stands.”
“What offer?” Don’s words had been a little bit odd, and Colby had to ask about it, but David didn’t pay attention to him.
The sound of the bell being pressed over and over again filled the silence of shame of understanding that surrounded the apartment. It finally stopped, making the lack of noise even more noticeable.
David slid the bottle of vodka over the coffee table, but Colby refused to accept it. “I don’t drink…”
The bottle stopped in the middle of its little trip. David was a considerate friend, he’d never force Colby to do something he didn’t want to.
But that clear, strong liquid looked very promising right now.
What the hell.
Colby’s fingers reached for the bottle and this time he didn’t care about the possible consequences.
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 1/?
Characters: Charlie/Colby, Don, David, mention of other characters and OMC.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: During hard times, we all need backup - for better or for worse.
Feedback: Yes, please. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The wonderful fredbassett.
Next chapter
Part 1: "Backup"
“I can fix it… I swear I can… I can make it go away, I can erase what happened, I promise I’ll do anything that’ll make you feel better…”
Wherever Charlie turned around, the image of a broken man in the corner of the room appeared in front of his eyes.
Charlie couldn’t run. He couldn’t escape. He had to make himself responsible for his pain.
But before he could make the first step, the walls of the room disappeared and the teary eyes of the man met Charlie’s. Water started to fill the room, displacing every tiny mass of air.
“No… Colby, please…” Charlie said as salty water dampened his clothes, and he tried to reach for the other man, to catch him before a tragedy happened…
Finally, there was no more air, no more space in which to breathe. Desperate, he swam towards Colby, who wasn’t trying to save himself - his eyes staring at Charlie, blinking.
Until they stopped.
Charlie screamed under the water, bubbles blocking his view.
There was no time and no hope.
“Colby…”
“Charlie.”
“Please, don’t… Stay with me, reach for my hand…”
“Charlie.”
A hand on his arm made Charlie wake up. His eyes were full of tears and the feeling of losing his lover was still alive, making his heart ache heavily.
He rubbed his eyes, stressed and tired from what he had seen when he was sleeping. Then he heard Don’s voice again.
“Buddy, are you ok?”
Charlie just stared at his brother, recognized his worried expression and his need to help. Then he looked around; he was at the coffee table, which was full of papers filled with numbers; he had been keeping his mind busy in his brother’s apartment. The house had been abandoned for a few days after it had been included as crime scene in Amita’s case file.
He ran his palms over his face, trying to release some stress before speaking. “Yeah… I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You had a nightmare about… Colby?” Don asked. It seemed that he was being careful not to push a sensitive button.
As he took a deep breath, Charlie realized that he didn’t know if he wanted to talk about his dream or not. But he was sure he wanted the horrible feelings to go away.
“C’mon, sit on the couch, take a break. You’ve been working on those equations since I left to the hospital. I’ll get you a beer.”
As he watched Don get into the kitchen, Charlie remembered that his father was still at the hospital. He was glad there were good doctors there...
Doctors who had discovered, three days ago, that Amita was pregnant.
Maybe relaxing was a good idea, after all. Charlie sat on the couch, resting his hands on his legs, and waited. Even if it had been a few days since his kidnapping had ended, he still felt so exhausted. His body didn’t want to respond to most of his brain’s commands.
He was thankful to see his brother coming back from the kitchen soon, holding two beers. “Here you go,” Don said, handing one to him.
“Thanks.”
Don sat on another couch in front of him and sipped his beer. “Do you want to talk about it - I mean, the nightmare?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said, staring at his bottle, hoping Don would understand that the real, implicit answer was “No.”
“Ok.” His brother muttered, and spent a moment in silence before continuing. “So, is Larry getting that replacement he’s been talking about or what?”
It was evident that Don was trying to change the subject to make Charlie’s mind get away from the madness of the last days. It was all he had been doing since Ian and David had put Amita’s insanity to an end. So Charlie answered, “I’m not sure, but I think he will.”
“What’s the guy’s name again?”
“Dr. Christopher Farrow.”
“Yeah, I remember now… You know, I never, ever expected to relate Larry to the tabloids.”
Charlie didn’t expect to find that comment irresistibly funny, but he did, and he laughed about it. It amazed him how he was able to find entertainment in words while his heart and his mind felt about to die. “The tabloids are just a tiny part of Dr. Farrow’s life, he’s a professional.”
“Have you met him?”
“No, but Larry’s told me a lot about him. I’m sure the real person will be different than the one I imagine, but it’ll be a pleasure to have him at CalSci. He’s well-known in his field.”
“And… the tabloids,” Don added, the corner of his mouth curving into a witty smile.
“Yeah, right, that will be a huge change,” Charlie answered, mimicking Don’s expression. “Speaking of which, would you mind if I ask you how David is? I mean, he and Amita… they could be having a baby,” he continued, and he had to swallow because every idea on that matter that went through his mind was disturbing and it hurt so much. “But of course, it could be mine, or even Berenson’s.”
Don’s silence made him feel even more awkward that he already felt, and for a moment, getting up and escaping seemed to be best solution. But when Charlie got up, Don did the same; he even put a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder...
But that kind of support wasn’t enough anymore, and Don seemed to know it. Charlie could tell when he was embraced by warm arms, protecting him.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie. I really am.” Those were Don’s first words. “If there’s anything I can do for you, you know you can count on me.”
“Mmhm…” Unexpectedly, Charlie only wanted to cry. He and Don didn’t hold each other frequently. They knew they loved each other and that they would always be together as family, but physical proofs of affection weren’t something they were used to.
Don’s arms tightened around him, becoming a shield that would keep him safe from harm whenever he could, and even when he couldn’t. “It’s OK. Breathe.”
It took Charlie a minute to recover a tiny part of his soul from the bad feelings of having his world turned upside down. The worst part was that bad memories couldn’t be erased, as the consequences of them would be with him forever.
When Don let go and they both sat down again, he tried to organize his thoughts about the new life that was waiting for everybody to live it. “How’s…?”
“Amita?”
“Yeah…” It was better that Don said it; just pronouncing her name was a deeply painful experience for Charlie.
“As she’s attacked two FBI agents, a DOJ psychiatrist and the family of another agent, one of the relatives being an important consultant…” Don swallowed as he continued. “She’ll have to stay in the country until a judge determines her mental state. If she’s declared not to be in her senses, her parents will ask to be able to take her to India.”
“I see.” There was something horrible about that possibility.
But again, Don knew. “We’ll find a way for you, or David or whoever’s the father of that child to be able to see him or her, alright? I promise we will.”
“But how are they going to analyze her case? Part of the files disappeared right after Ian…” The image of the sniper shooting Amita while David had her against the wall, crying and yelling in desperation, was too much for Charlie to continue that sentence. “I mean, if someone inside the FBI is willing to erase evidence, then what guarantees do we have left?”
Don was unexpectedly silent; Charlie just assumed that he was wondering who could have done such things against the rules. “I guess… none,” his brother muttered. “But hey, look at our jobs, look at what’s happened. There’s no guarantee of anything at all… there’s only control over your actions, Charlie.”
That response was a little bit hard, but it was filled with truth. The only thing Charlie could do was decide what his next step would be. “You know, in the nightmare I just had,” he confessed, and he saw Don nodding, willing to listen. “I was in my room, at the house and Colby was everywhere I went. Then there was water all around us, we were drowning, and he didn’t swim. He didn’t swim… and I couldn’t save him.”
Thoughtful, Don frowned and asked, “OK. Maybe that means you want to help him…”
“I know that these dreams are supposed to tell me something that I’m not aware of.” Charlie’s nightmare about Colby felt like an echo of the time he had seen his beloved mother in his dreams. “But this time, I already know that he’s going to leave me.”
“What? No, Charlie. I’m sure he’s not.”
“He is, because I’m not able to help him. Why wouldn’t he, anyway?”
Leaning his back on the couch, Don raised his hands. “Alright then, if that’s what you want to believe right now. But that’s not true and you know it,” he said. “As weird as it sounds, I’ve seen it in his eyes when you guys talk. And I’ve seen it in yours, too.”
Both brothers shared a long moment, in which they simply stared at each other in silence. Then Don left his beer on the coffee table and got up.
“You’re leaving already?” Charlie asked as he watched him grab his jacket.
“Yeah, I gotta go check on David, he hasn’t been answering his phone. I just came home to grab a beer and talk to my little brother about life for a while…” Don answered, a crooked smile spreading over his lips.
Again, Charlie smiled as a reflection of him. “Well… I think I’m not that little anymore, Don.”
Don snorted as he put on his jacket. “That’s right. See you in a couple of hours.”
When the door was closed behind his brother, Charlie told himself that he’d go to see his father at the hospital because they would certainly enjoy each other’s company and support. Family was the fundamental part of his life right now.
And then there was Colby - Charlie just hoped they could manage to survive the uncertainty of the chaos they’d see from now on every time they looked ahead.
XxX
The bottle of vodka wasn’t empty yet; David kept drinking it slowly as if it was merely an innocent beer. It had been a few weeks since he had been found at his apartment, almost unconscious from the alcohol.
But now Colby finally understood it all.
Both friends were seated on the floor around David’s coffee table, not speaking. Sometimes their eyes were fixed on each other; occasionally, there was something they want to tell, something they wanted to share, but it always ended up hanging in the air, not really being put into the right words.
The apartment’s bell rang a few times, and none of them moved. Colby knew that his body wouldn’t react when he asked it to walk to the door.
Don’s voice came out of nowhere, but none of them responded; it was only the voice mail of David’s phone.
“Hey, David… I’m outside, could you let me in if you’re there? If you have a minute, I’d like to know how you’re doing and if you’ve thought about attending that appointment with Megan or something,” their boss explained.
“Are you going to get that?” Colby finally asked, worried about his friend, even through the state of not caring about anything at the moment. When David kept sipping his vodka, he knew the answer and even agreed with his decision.
But Don’s message wasn’t over yet. “I’d also like to discuss… you know what… but it seems you’re not there, so I guess we’ll talk some other time. Just remember that my offer still stands.”
“What offer?” Don’s words had been a little bit odd, and Colby had to ask about it, but David didn’t pay attention to him.
The sound of the bell being pressed over and over again filled the silence of shame of understanding that surrounded the apartment. It finally stopped, making the lack of noise even more noticeable.
David slid the bottle of vodka over the coffee table, but Colby refused to accept it. “I don’t drink…”
The bottle stopped in the middle of its little trip. David was a considerate friend, he’d never force Colby to do something he didn’t want to.
But that clear, strong liquid looked very promising right now.
What the hell.
Colby’s fingers reached for the bottle and this time he didn’t care about the possible consequences.