Chapter Text
"They all died of blunt force trauma," Jack informs him while he studies the pictures on the board. All men; nude and bloodied and destroyed. Will absorbs the level of violence, the bodies didn't just have fresh wounds- but scars and half healed one's as well. Prolonged torture. "No one reported them missing, but according to the M.E., they suffered extensive beatings over a long period of time. Lots of scaring and bruising, some even had internal bleeding," Jack approaches him and points to one of the men's photos, "Some even had broken bones; this one had a broken forearm," he points to another, "A broken jaw."
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turns away from the pictures because he doesn't need to see anymore; he already has them burned into his memory. "Nothing from dental records or prints, we have no idea who they are or where they came from. They started popping up all over Baltimore, six in three weeks."
"Whoever is dumping them is throwing them out like trash, he doesn't see them like human beings," Will murmurs, "They're beaten to death because he sees them as weak, survival of the fittest."
Jack sits at his desk again and folds his hands under his chin, "So where is he getting them from without a trace?"
Graham shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets, "I don't know yet, but no one is missing them."
~*~*~*~
There's a sinking feeling in Will's chest when he follows Jack and his team towards the warehouse, waiting until they clear the building before following them in. It's dark inside, he follows the flashlights down the stairs and through the hallway until they're in an open room. Someone finds the switch and the florescent bulbs crackle to life above them, illuminating a large ring. Jack and his team move through the rest of the building, but Will can't look away from the blood smeared along the dirty floor of the ring. It looks like a dog fighting ring, and he imagines two angry, abused animals tied to the wooden spike in the middle of the ring expected to fight to the death.
Only this ring isn't used for dog fighting.
"Will," Jack calls from the hallway, but Will is miles away in thought. "Graham," Jack barks, and Will blinks and turns to study the solemn look on Crawford's face. "You need to take a look at this."
He follows numbly down the hall, away from the fighting ring. Some of the agents turn the corner ahead of them with a man in cuffs, he has dark eyes and a scowl that's been splattered with fresh blood. Jack doesn't spare the man a glance, and Will looks away from the man when his emotionless eyes seek out his own as they pass each other. Jack leads him to the end of the hall and into a different room, and he crinkles his nose at the smell of blood, urine, and vomit. "Brace yourself, Will." Jack warns, and then he steps aside.
It looks like a man, but Will could easily forget he is. His body is bare, aside from the short kilt around his narrow waist, he's covered in long black tattoos under weeping, angry gashes and swollen, ugly scars. Blood pours down his back in rivers from deep cuts crisscrossing his shoulder blades. He puts two and two together when he sees one of the agents bag a large whip from the other side of the room, but nothing is more horrifying then his face. It's swollen and covered in scars, the left side of his face is twisted and destroyed- his eye savagely mutilated and permanently scarred closed. His right eye is open and wild, glaring at the group of men before him. Two of the agents step forward and the man lunges towards the group of them, pulling the ties around his hands and neck tight and he falls back within range of the chains. "I'm gonna need a medic!" Jack yells over his shoulder, and the trapped man tries again to lunge for them, effectively strangling himself with the chain around his neck.
The agents take another step closer, and the man struggles to reach them harder, his wrists bound together and up against the chain on his throat. Will comes up behind them, an involuntary noise of pain escaping his lips when he watches the man twist against the restraints in an attempt to attack them. "He's dangerously delusional, I don't think he knows who we are," one of the agents turns to Jack, "If we untie him and he doesn't stop… I can't let him attack my men."
"I want him sedated," Crawford says evenly to the two medics waiting behind him with raised brows, and Will looks back at them then at the man on his knees.
"Jack, let me try talking to him first," Will finally says when he finds his voice, no one has to get hurt. "There's too much going on in here. He's been treated like a fight dog for who knows how long, he's trained to respond violently." It goes unspoken that Will has a way with animals, and this man has been reduced to just that. Crawford only hesitates a minute before he nods in agreement and waves the medics from the room.
"Alright, everyone out," no one questions him, and soon it's just him and Crawford left, "Your saying that fighting ring out there is for people."
It's not a question, but Will nods anyway. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying Jack. Those victims were just dogs that lost their fights." As he expected, the man on his knees has stopped fighting; instead he sits still and stares straight ahead. Will turns from Jack and takes a step closer to him, not shying away from the eye contact when the man looks up and meets his eyes. "I'm Will Graham, with the F.B.I.," he whispers, and drops into a crouch to be even with man on the floor. His good eye follows his movement, but his angular face doesn't display a thing. "What is your name?" He prompts quietly. The man's face doesn't waver, his mouth stays sealed shut in an even line.
"We already tried talking to him." Will ignores him.
Will studies the ruined mass of his left eye before looking back into the dead gaze of his right. There is nothing in that eye, no life or feeling. "No one is going to hurt you, we're here to get you some medical attention," he explains further, and gets nothing in return. The man doesn't even blink.
"Maybe he doesn't speak English," Jack supplies from the door, and Will jumps.
"No, he's mute, maybe voluntarily," Will replies without looking away from the eye boring into his own. "He understands what I'm saying."
"How can you tell?" Crawford huffs impatiently, "I can't have these medics getting too close to him because you think he understands that we are just trying to help him."
Will silently apologizes to the battered man for Jack's insensitive ways, "He isn't trying to attack me." To prove a point he slides a little closer, never breaking eye contact.
It does the trick, "I need a medic, just one until he's sedated," Jack orders, and one of the men from before timidly comes next to Will and crouches beside him.
The man's eye darts towards the new comer, and Will hates himself when he 'tsks' at him to get his attention. Hates himself for resorting to the same treatment he'd use on his dogs, and he hates even more that it works. "Take it easy," he soothes when the man stares into his eyes again. When the medic touches his arm with the cool alcohol wipe to clean off the caked on dirt, the eye darts back towards the man then right back to Will, who offers him a small smile. He doesn't flinch at the pinch of the needle, and as soon as he's injected the medic backs away again.
Will stays put until the alertness in the eye fades and hazes over, and the eyelid starts to droop. Will reaches forward to grab the man's body when he slumps forward, pulling him back up onto his knees and leaning against him to prevent him from choking himself. He's careful of the fresh wounds while he supports the man's dead weight as the agents come back in to cut the binds. Freed, the muscular body slumps against Will and he steadies his body while everyone gathers around him when they bring in the stretcher. They maneuver him up and onto it, positioning him on his side, mindful of the opened wounds on his back.
They take him out of the filth and wheel him towards the ambulance with Jack and Will in tow. "The suspect was brought to the local precinct for questioning, the other one is going to the hospital. We're going to see what they got from him in the interrogation."
He follows close behind Jack, frowning in protest, "What about the victim?"
"He's unconscious Will, and he's gonna stay that way until we get to the bottom of this."
~*~*~*~
The commotion in the station has Will on edge, and he hangs back while Jack deals with the locals. He watches as Jack attempts to stay level headed and prevent a power struggle between the cops and the F.B.I., and a few minutes tick by and Will's mind wanders to the strange man in the warehouse. He can't bring himself to think that there is nothing any of them will be able to do to help him, that he's already too far beyond help.
Jack returns to his side and sighs, "What did they get on him?"
"One of the agents recognized him as Carlos Salazar when they took him back to the station for questioning. Apparently, he was arrested by his old partner for drugs. He has a record; assault with a deadly weapon. Some of the local police said they busted him because neighbors at his residence complained about a lot of barking. They found a bunch of half dead dogs all chewed up. A.S.P.C.A. was called and he was taken into custody but no charges were pressed because the house wasn't under his name. Couldn't get in touch with the owner."
"He's graduated from dog fighting," Will says distantly, "Did he say who the man he had captive was?"
"He's not saying anything, we got his record from prints. He's not talking, we might have to try to get something from the man at the hospital."
Will rubs his face, "He's not going to talk, Jack. Who knows how long he's been like that for."
Crawford's glare silences him, "I'm going to call Alana Bloom to ask for her opinion on this, and they're going to keep working at Salazar. I want you to go to the hospital and be there when he wakes up, he responded well to you. I want this to go as smoothly as possible for everyone involved."
~*~*~*~
He sits in the waiting room for nearly two hours before one of the doctors come to get him, "We cleaned him up and hooked him up to fluids and antibiotics to fight off infections. He was filthy, it's incredible that the infections weren't more severe. We kept him asleep and medicated for the pain, but we lessened the dosage so he'll wake up but he'll still be pretty out of it." Will nods silently and follows the man back into the room, "He's had some broken bones that healed incorrectly in his shoulder and hands- we reset them."
Will swallows thickly and takes a step towards the bed. Despite the bandages, he looks much better; clean and peaceful. "What happened to his eye?"
"The injury was completely healed, so it looks like it happened years ago. The rough nature of the scar, it appears it was dug out with something jagged."
He has to clear his throat to find his voice again, "Thank you."
The doctor shows himself out, and Will studies the man on the bed a little longer before he takes out his phone to call Jack. "They lessened the sedative, he should be waking up soon."
"As soon as Alana gets here, we're going to come meet you there." Will dreads their arrival, dreads when the man wakes up and he has to face that empty look in his eye again.
"Okay."
He sits the chair near the bed when they hang up, and watches the slow rise and fall of the man's chest. Time passes and Will doesn't keep track of how long it's been before the man on the bed stirs and his breathing changes. The eye flutters opened and his brows pull down in confusion. The dark eye finds it's way around the room until it lands on Will where it stays. "Hi again," he says quietly, "You're in the hospital. I know that's an overwhelming change, but we had to get you medical attention."
He doesn't expect an answer, and of course he doesn't get one. He leans forward in the chair, watching the way the stoney eye remains locked on his face. "If you forgot, I'm from the F.B.I., and my boss is bringing someone with him to talk to you. Doctor Bloom, she's very nice," he finds himself rambling and snaps his mouth closed and rubs his chin awkwardly. The man is relaxed, Will observes, and he watches the way he feels out the wraps on his body. His hands are casted securely, and Will can practically feel the tension in his muscles while he surveys his body.
The easy silence doesn't last long, ending when Jack stomps into the room with Alana in tow. The man's eye falls on Jack and Will feels the whirl of instinct rise, the instinct to fight. "Jack, you're threatening to him. It's making him edgy," Will voices quietly, and the urge to suddenly reach out and touch the man in comfort bears down on him. He feels nearly possessive, protective over the man, being the only one who can keep the man calm.
"Well, he's going to have to get a grip on himself. I want him secured while Alana is in here alone with him," Jack orders cooly, and he doesn't hesitate to step forward and snap a cuff onto the bed railing and the other end onto his forearm above the wrap securing his hand and wrist.
Will stands and comes closer, "Cuffs, Jack?" It makes Will angry, and Alana comes forward and touches his arm.
"Don't put more stress on him than needed, Jack. Everything is fine," she says solidly. Jack doesn't argue with her like he does with Will, and he turns and leaves without another word. Will awkwardly goes to follow him reluctantly, and Alana watches the way the man's good eye follows Will's every movement.
"Will, why don't you stay actually," she watches carefully for a reaction from the man, and the face doesn't budge. Will sits down near the door, just in sight. "I'm Doctor Alana Bloom, and I know you probably don't feel up to dealing with me right now," she gets nothing, the man's eye doesn't budge from it's focus on Will. "I can ask yes and no questions, one blink for yes, two for no," she tries, and he gives her nothing. Will is hypnotized by the eye that watches his every move with such intensity, a fire in the gaze that he'd never seen anywhere else before.
Alana sits in the silence for another moment before she looks between the two men and stands to leave. Jack is just beyond the door, "That was fast."
She shakes her head, "He isn't interested in anything I'm saying, Jack. I've never seen anything like it. He's not showing fear or anxiety…nothing."
"Except to Graham."
She nods and sighs, "Will and him seem to have…connected. You aren't going to get anything from him right now, Jack."
Crawford sighs impatiently, "What do you suggest then?"
"I think you should work with the other leads, and let Will spend some time with him and accept you might never get anything from him." It's obviously not what he wants to hear, because Crawford storms back into the room.
"Come out here, Will," Jack barks, and he slowly complies. "According to Alana, we're not going to get anything from him. What are you getting from all this?"
"He's been this way for a long time Jack, and where some people would be on the road to recovery after being rescued- he doesn't know a life different than the one he's been living. We need to know more about where Salazar is getting these men to know more about him, he might not even know anything about himself anymore," Will says confidently, ready to defend this man against Crawford if needed.
"He's a victim, Jack, you need to be patient."
He certainly isn't happy about it, "I'm going back to the station to see how things are going there, I want answers."
"I'm going with him, you should stay here," Alana speaks before Jack has a chance to give out more orders, "It might make it easier for him."
Will nods silently, not feeling the need to talk anymore. They leave him there in his silence, and he finds his way back into the room. "Jack can be a lot to handle, he doesn't mean anything by it," he says as he sits again, in the seat closer to the bed this time. "Are you hungry? You should eat. They told me they have you on fluids, you're dehydrated." He gets up and wanders into the hall to ask a nurse to get something for him to eat and goes right back. The silence doesn't feel so heavy, and the prolonged eye contact doesn't make him cringe. Animals and the bad guys, he'd never had a problem with them. He winces, he's not an animal just because he was treated like one.
A nurse walks in with a cup in her hand, "It's way past dinner time, and the doctor said he can't have anything solid right now so heres a cup of soup. After we're going to up the dosage of sleeping meds so he can rest through the night." She looks between the two of them, "Do you want me to help him eat?"
"I can if that's alright," Will hears himself say, and she presses it into his hand.
"Alright, in about a half hour it's time for bed," and she leaves them again with Will awkwardly holding a small cup of broth.
He sniffs the broth and stirs it with the spoon, "Can you manage a few bites?" Will encourages, looking up to find the man's eye looking at him with the same intensity as before. Will internally debates for just a moment before he spoons some of the soup up towards his mouth. He waits calmly, not encouraging or forcing, and the thin lips eventually part just enough for him to slip the utensil into his mouth. He doesn't praise, he just smiles slightly and follows that one up with another.
~*~*~*~
It's three days later before anything changes, and Will finds himself perched besides his new companions bed after his lectures every day. He talks to him about things, anything he can think of. Mostly his classes and what the lecture consisted of. He talks about his dogs and tells the man that no longer feels like a stranger all about his fishing and his boat motors. The entire time, the piercing gaze never wavers away from him; his stone face betrays nothing.
Will doesn't mind.
On the third day, when his phone rings he jumps and digs it from his pocket and sighs at Jack's name. "Hey, Jack."
"Will, there's another body. Same as the others, and Salazar started talking, I need you here."
"I'm coming," he doesn't have to tell Jack that he's already in Baltimore, at the hospital.
He shoves it back in his pocket and stands, "I'll be back later," he says quietly, and he doesn't want to leave.
~*~*~*~
He rushes to the station because he needs to know, and for once he's glad Jack always gets right down to business, "Carlos rolled over on another guy, Walt. No last name. He wanted a deal. According to him, Walt has connections all across the world, has people trafficked in from other countries to fight in high wager fights. Apparently, the man we have is one that has won for Walt a lot in the month he had him. He's been fighting in another country and whoever had him before sold him for a high price. They call him One-Eye."
Will stares at Jack in shock, and blinks slowly, "Does he know how long he's been forced to fight for?"
"He didn't say, only said he's a lifetime fighter. Kids are sold in other parts of the world and trained to fight like dogs, it could have been since he was a child. He's responsible for the death of those men we found, he beat them to death."
Will's chest feels heavy, "He was a captive, Jack. He had no say in what he was-"
"I know that, that doesn't mean he's not dangerous. We can't just let him walk away as soon as he's healed."
Graham changes the subject, "We need to find 'Walt', he probably has more men. You found another body, someone had to have fought with him."
"Carlos gave us another location where Walt did his work, he was just in charge of tending to prisoners while they were at that warehouse."
~*~*~*~
Jack and his team find the second warehouse too late to save any of the captives, after word got out that the first warehouse had been discovered. They find another of Walt's men before he can slip out, and this one has no trouble giving his information.
Jack calls Will as soon as the man is taken into custody, "Will, we got another one of men under Walt. He said Walt wants One Eye back, and he won't stop until he gets him."
Will is back in his seat in the bare hospital room, only this time One-Eye is focused up on the ceiling instead of unsettling him with a stare. He imagines whoever this Walt is breaking into the hospital in the middle of the night and slipping the man right out the doors and back into hell. "I'll take him to my house," he says without really thinking. One-Eye, Will doesn't like the name, looks back at him again with interest.
"That isn't happening."
Will huffs, "Send someone to watch the house. I can make sure nothing happens to him and they have no way of knowing where I live."
One-Eye blinks and licks his lips before looking back up at the ceiling, and Will wonders what is going through his mind. "We don't know what he's capable of."
"I'm not worried, I'm going to arrange it now with his doctor." For once, he stands up to Jack and it's worth it.
Even more surprising, Jack gives in, "I'm having someone stay outside your house, for your safety just as much as his."
Notes:
Please leave comments ;) love you guysssss
Chapter 2
Summary:
So instead of two long chapters, I'm projecting four...long chapters haha.
I like this, I like them together.
Just remember I don't believe in happy endings, and that bleeds into what I write.
Consider it fair warning.
Chapter Text
Will very rarely gets angry, at least when anyone can see him. That's why his passion for the subject of releasing One-Eye from the hospital and into his care is more apparent, because he never argues. It started with conversations about discharge papers at the desk, that spread to the nurses who eventually got the doctor in charge of One-Eye's care because none of them wanted the man leaving the hospital. "Mr. Graham, the man needs to stay hydrated and the bandages need to be changed every six hours."
The doctor doesn't want to budge, "I'll make sure I change them; he'll eat and drink and rest."
"The antibiotics-"
"Every six hours when you change the bandages, I've been paying attention," he interjects, his hands nervously come up to rub his eyes under his glasses, "And no full solid meals; soups and soft foods."
The two nurses and the doctor frown at him, and Will can't bring himself to look higher than their mouths, "It's a safety matter, I'm sure Agent Crawford would come here and clear it up for you. He'd be released into the care of the F.B.I."
"Agent Crawford already explained the sensitivity of the issue, my staff has had to tread lightly going in and out of there." Will thought of the soft restraints on One-Eye's arms that a nurse had used to replace Jack's cuff a few days earlier. One-Eye accepted the restraint without incident, his eye tracking Will's movement while he stepped aside to let her work. The fluffy cuffs seemed unfair, considering the man hadn't budged since his arrival. It hadn't bothered One-Eye, but it certainly bothered Will. "I'll have a nurse remove the catheter and find him scrubs to wear while you sign the paperwork."
He couldn't say he wasn't relieved when nearly forty-five minutes later he returned to find One-Eye standing tensely besides the bed, dressed in plain blue scrub pants and a one size fits all scrub shirt that's loosely tied in the back, plain white slip on shoes on his feet. Will didn't notice how long his dark hair was until he could see how it fell to his shoulders even in the ponytail. One-Eye diverts his gaze from the wall to settle on Will again, and the smaller man smiles at the very out of place look the man has taken on. "I have antibiotics for you," he pats his pocket and the pills shake in the plastic bottle, "And bandages for when it's time to change the ones you have on, and I have to bring you back in two days so he can see how you're doing." It feels important to keep including One-Eye in what was going on around him, despite how easy it would be to simply pull the man along and treat him how he'd been treated all along.
Will never even treated his dogs like that. "We're worried Walt will come looking for you, and too many people know you're here. We can have agents outside my house just in case, and people watching the hospital so we can grab him if he shows up," he turns to go, glancing back to find the intensity in the gaze has changed to curiosity; head tilted to the left. "Come," he reaches his hand out to beckon him forward, "Unless you'd really rather stay here?"
One-Eye's head instinctively bows when he takes a tentative step towards Will, then two more until he's close enough for Will carefully place a hand on his left elbow. Will doesn't apply any pressure, just simply guides the bulky man into the hallway. One of the nurses returns with pushing a wheelchair, and Will feels One-Eye's elbow tense under his fingers. The dark, calculating eye examines the chair and then back up at Will. It only takes a moment to realize he's waiting for instruction, waiting for him to give an order on what to do; it sends a shiver down Will's spine how passive someone with just brutal ways is, especially to someone like him. "You only have to sit in it until we get to the doors," he informs him evenly, and One-Eye complies with no further hesitation. He stays close the whole trip down, "Come on," he says calmly when they're at the doors, and the other man follows closely behind him to his car.
One-Eye stares into the car when Will opens the door, "Sit," he instructs quietly, and he closes the door softly behind him. Will buckles himself in and turns to One-Eye, "Seatbelt," he murmurs, and reaches in front of the man to pull the belt in front of him. One-Eye tenses and follows the movement of his hand when he clips the belt, "It will only lock in a crash," he explains further as he drives out of the parking lot and towards home.
~*~*~*~
"They took him somewhere else," the man says into his phone while he watches the car turn out of the parking lot of the hospital.
"Who?"
"One of Agent Jack Crawford's men. Only one, I think Will Graham."
Walt sighs, "I'll get someone who can give us his address and we will go from there."
~*~*~*~
He considers his house, and what waits for them there. His dogs, the notion makes him slightly uncomfortable; he doesn't believe that One-Eye will attack them, but he can't rule out that the man will be taken back by them. "I have a few dogs, seven actually. They're good animals, well trained," he says to the silence, One-Eye keeps his neutral gaze right out the windshield; seemingly miles away. "Things are going to be different now, once we catch Walt, we can figure out what you want to do next."
Nothing.
Will falls into the same silence as his companion, holding it for the rest of the long drive back to Wolf Trap. He only glances over when he pulls up the house, watching the blank look on One-Eye's face while his eye takes in the outside of his house. He watches Will undo his belt, and Will watches carefully when the other man slowly presses the release button with the tips of his fingers. Will smiles widely and comes around to get the door for him, "Here we are."
One-Eye stays close, as if an invisible leash tethers them together, as if he'd decided Will is the man that…owns him. The thought makes his head hurt, and he stands back when he opens the door and the dogs plow out onto the porch. They crowd One-Eye, who stands stone still while they lick his dangling fingers. Will watches closely while One-Eye sizes the animals up, and his hands clench, "tsk" he hisses through his teeth, and the dogs obey and move on down the stairs.
One-Eye looks back up at him, and turns to watch the dogs run off into the fields around his house, "Not…you. Come inside."
Will lets him stand in the doorway and take in the environment, while he puts the pills and the bandages in the bathroom, coming back to find he hadn't moved an inch. "Okay, so another three hours until you need your medication and fresh bandages. It's almost eight, I'm going to put on some soup and coffee…Do you drink coffee?" He turns to watch One-Eye, who's watching him. "Ya know, tea sounds better, coffees acidic," he huffs, and runs a hand through his hair. He fusses around the kitchen, putting a pot of water on the burner to boil.
He comes back to find One-Eye examining the table that house his lures, "Fly fishing lures, did you ever fish?" He moves on from the lures to the small bookshelf, his head turned to read the spines. Will can tell by the way his eye shift over the spines of the books that he can read English; he'd been right in thinking the man has understood what he's been told the whole time. "You're welcome to read any of those you want."
Will watches him study his living room for just a minute longer before he returns to his water on the stove to finish the soup after he pours two mugs full of the hot water. One-Eye is in the same spot by the shelf when he returns with two bowls and two mugs, "Come sit and eat with me." Will reclines back on the couch and the other man perches right on the edge of the cushions, and Will nearly reaches out to ease him back against the cushions. He can see the large white bandage on hiding the messy wounds through the gap where the shirt ties together behind his back.
"Everything's hot, be careful," he warns when the silent man gingerly hooks his fingers in the ceramic handle after he watches Will do it. His tightly wrapped hand balances the mug awkwardly and brings it to his lips. The hot team scalds his mouth but he swallows it anyway; he can feel it make it's way all the way down his throat and low in his chest. "Good?" he smiles when One-Eye takes another sip.
He's pleased when the other man balances his spoon between his wrapped fingers and slowly works his way through the bowl of soup. The dogs scratch at the door, and Will puts his own soup down to let them in, "When you're done, I'll show you the bathroom. The rest of the house is pretty empty, I only have this one bed. You can sleep in it and I'll stay on the couch." He busies himself filling the dog's bowls, ever aware of the eye that tracks his every movement. "Come with me," and the other man does, following him down the hall, "Bathrooms in here. I'm going to get you something to change into, I have some flannels that should fit." He turns into his room where he used to keep his bed but never moved the dresser. He tries to imagine the other man in his clothing, and it makes him feel oddly warm.
For once, when he turns around One-Eye isn't staring at him. This time, his eye is focused on the empty dog cage he keeps at the end of the hall. "One-Eye…" it snaps the other man from his trance and he turns to face Will when he passes him the pants and a plain white t-shirt. The name makes him uncomfortable, "Put on the pajama pants and I'll change the bandages on your back." Obediently, One-Eye unties the scrubs and Will nearly thinks to tell him he doesn't have to change in front of him, then thinks better of it and walks down the hall to change in the bathroom. One-Eye stands just outside the door when he opens it, the flannel pants tied around his hips and his chest bare. Will does his best not to stare, but his eyes are drawn to the raised scaring on his chest and abdomen. The man stands completely still while Will's eyes inspect his torso, it's much easier to distinguish the marks on his skin now that he's free of dirt. His facial hair must had been trimmed at the hospital, he failed to notice how the hair was now much closer to his skin of his chin. "Turn around," he requests when he can bring himself to find the man's eye again. He does what he's told, and Will reaches to tear open one of the extra bandages and unravels it before gently pulling off the tape. It tugs on the skin of his sides and shoulder blades, and Will winces even though One-Eye doesn't flinch. Inch by inch, long, irritated red gashes are revealed. "These look like they're healing nicely," he says more to himself. The memory of the fresh, oozing wounds flashes in his mind and how could the man stand so perfectly still.
How could someone be so completely broken and rebuilt to be so…compliant?
He wets a washcloth from the sink and gently dabs the scabbed wounds, hissing through his teeth at the burn he's sure accompanies his actions. He redresses the area and forces himself to look away from the ripple of the muscle in his arms when One-Eye works the shirt over his head. "It's nearly nine thirty, I can give you the medication soon and you can rest," Will brushes past him and heads back to the living room, and One-Eye stays back hardly a foot behind him. "I have to be honest, I don't usually have people here. I have to grade some papers, you can help yourself to a book."
One-Eye watches him take a seat behind the desk where he works on his lures. Will can feel the man looming behind him, but he takes out his laptop and pulls open his email. It's a few minutes before his new housemate comes to his side and slowly slips to his knees besides the chair. He wants to insist on a chair, but instead he points to the screen, "I let my students email me their papers, saves paper and I don't misplace them."
One-Eye observes him while he reads through the papers, his posture relaxing gradually until he's pressed against Will's thigh. He's barely made it through the second paper when someone knocks on the door, and One-Eye instantly straightens up to balance perfectly on his knees. The dogs run for the door barking, and Will silences them with a gesture before he unlocks the door, "Will Graham; I'm Agent Hernandez and this is Agent Louis. Crawford sent us," he extends his hand and Will shakes it quickly, "Just wanted to let you know we'll be outside, rotating every few hours. If you need us, just holler."
"Thank you," he's glad they don't linger, and he closes the door and turns to find the living room empty. "One-Eye?"
Winston comes back down the hallway and whines, wanting Will to follow. The dog leads him to the bathroom, where One-Eye stares darkly down at the dogs crowding the doorway. Will watches as the emotionless face twitches when Winston barks, and Will snaps out of it to send the dogs away. "They aren't trying to corner you, they're just not used to visitors," he explains, "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
One-Eye turns his back to him and Will leaves him alone when he hears his phone ringing in the other room. "Hello Jack."
"I sent two agents to your house, and we have two outside the hospital in case anyone makes an appearance."
The water runs through the pipes when the toilet flushes, Will can hear it through the walls, "I know, they let me know they were here."
"How are things going with him?" Jack sounds skeptical.
"A little difficult, it's hard adjusting to his silent looming. Other than that, he's fine." He can feel the exact moment that One-Eye returns to the room, he can feel his stare boring into his back.
There's a brief silence, "I expect you to go get them if anything happens, Will."
Graham tiredly rubs his face, "I will."
"I'll check in first thing in the morning," and he hangs up. Will puts it back on the table and turns, forcing a smile.
"I'm going to get the pills for you, you should lay down." He retrieves two from the bottle with the sleep aids, and two from the one with the antibiotics and heads for a glass of water. One-Eye stands by the window, staring out into the darkness. "Come lay down."
He does what he's told, and sits on the bed and easily takes the pills and downs the water, "That will help you rest." Will hovers until his hard expression softens with the pull of the drugs, and he uses the eased posture to manuver the covers down to encourage One-Eye to rest back against the pillows. He waits until the attentive eye flutters closed and gives in to the lull from the pills before he returns to his laptop. He works through three more papers before his own eyes droop and the screen blurs. He brings their dishes from before to the sink and digs out whatever spare bedding he has for the couch.
The dogs crowd the couch happily, and he hangs his hand over the side and they lick at his fingers. It had been a long, unplanned few days that piled up on him; he's worn enough that he doesn't even toss and turn for more than ten minutes before sleep tugs at his mind and pulls him under.
Screaming doesn't ward off the agony, the fire that rages through the left side of his face. 'His eye is hanging!' His opponent lays dead or unconscious, he's not sure. All he knows is the chain attached to his collar slammed into his face and now he can't see. He crumbles to the floor, clutching his face when they drag him away from the ring.
'Remove it,' a heavily accented voice demands, and then he's gone. His hands are restrained and his face is held and the pain flairs up and he gurgles and screams. Pressure builds out of sight of his good eye, and he can only barely grasp that they're cutting his eye from his skull when something hard slams down on his temple once, twice, three times and he lets his brain turn off and the darkness is so vast, he doesn't know where he ends and where the nothingness begins.
He's sweated through his shirt, and when he gets his bearings, the outside world is still blanketed in darkness. Only an hour or so has passed, maybe two. He sits up to pull off his shirt, turning to find One-Eye is no longer on the bed, but instead he'd moved to the floor just at the foot. He's slumped back against the wall- his head tipped to rest against the end of the mattress. Will sighs and swings his legs over, avoiding the dog's tails when he makes his way to the bed. For whatever the reason, he'd removed the shirt and folded it surprisingly neatly on the bed. Closer examination told him the man was trembling slightly from the cold, and Will frowned to himself when he gathered the blanket. He's been conditioned, Will reminds himself, this is what he's used to. He spreads the comforter over the lean body. One-Eye looks up at him blearily, still groggy from the medication, "You're shaking, it's cold. At least keep the blanket on." Too tired to protest, One-Eye pulls it closer to himself and lets his eye fall shut again. He looks younger like this; his face relaxed and his hair messily being pulled from the tie holding it behind his head. Will leaves him to rest and gets a towel to put down between him and the cushions.
~*~*~*~
"You're sure he was with Will Graham?" Walt questions when the man joins him in his office. The younger man turns to study the picture of the agent on the computer screen.
"That's him."
Walt bites his lip, "I have Stephan looking into him more." He observes the splattered blood on his subordinates clothes, "Who won?"
"Lock-Jaw," he hesitates, "He wouldn't deliver the final blow though, left Righty squirming in the dirt. I took care of him and made sure Lock-Jaw doesn't forget his job again."
Walt smiles, "Good, he'll learn. He's good for a newer one. Go collect the earnings," the younger man doesn't think twice about turning to go, "Oh and Gerard? Stay available. I'm going to need you when we learn more about this Graham."
~*~*~*~
Will wakes up when his dogs push their wet noses against his arm, and the light in the room lets him know he managed to sleep the rest of the night with no more nightmares. One-Eye is still propped up against the wall, his eye tiredly staring into space. "The sleeping pills aren't keeping you asleep, huh?" Will says, noting the way One-Eye jumps at the suddenness of the broken silence. "Sorry." One-Eye sits up and watches while he lets the dogs out before he goes to put on coffee, deciding to stick to tea for the other man.
One-Eye joins him moments later, still shirtless and sleepy. "You could have woken me up if you couldn't get to sleep comfortably," he says without looking up. One-Eye is close enough that Will can feel the heat radiating off of him. "You don't have to deal with things alone, you know. Just get my attention." Will chances a glance at the taller man's face, and his stare has lost some of it's intensity. Despite looking tired, he also looks calm, comfortable.
"You can't have soup all the time, so how about we try some cereal? They had oatmeal for you at the hospital, but I never liked it. Cereal and tea, then we can change the bandages and you can take the antibiotics." One-Eye watches him while he pours some Bran Flakes into a bowl with milk and fixes the tea for him and puts it on the kitchen table. Will's pleased when he slowly sits down and tries the cereal without prompting.
Will joins him with his own breakfast, cereal and coffee. It's more than he usually eats. "It's Saturday, I don't have any classes. I was thinking of going down to the river to fish. You're welcome to come with me, even if you don't want to fish." He makes the offer knowing One-Eye will come even if he hadn't asked and simply left, the man would follow. It takes One-Eye less than five minutes to have his bowl and mug empty, "Your appetites coming back, that's good." He wasn't prepared to feed someone, especially someone who couldn't eat just anything. One-Eye looks at the fruit bowl Will stocks as a force of habit but never eats, and Graham sips his coffee and stands to put their bowls in the sink. "Apple or banana?" One-Eye keeps his eyes straight ahead and Will puts them both in front of him and turns to wash their dishes. The apple crunches behind him, and Will smiles to himself and only turns around when he presents the other man with two pills and a glass of water.
"I'm going to see if I have any clothes that will fit you after I change the bandages on your back," One-Eye takes both the banana and the rest of the apple with him when he follows Will to the bathroom, turning around and hunching his shoulders while Will opens a fresh bandage. He's careful when he peels the tape from the skin, examining the healing marks. They look even better than the night before if it was even possible. Soon they'd be nothing but another layer of scars. He studies the long trails of black tattoo that wraps all around his body, fighting the urge to reach out and trace the line. Instead, he recovers his back and unravels medical tape to secure it in place. "Done."
One-Eye bites into the apple again and turns to watch Will dispose of the used wrapping in the garbage and wash his hands.
His wardrobe is limited to button downs and jeans or corduroy, and he debates just a minute before selecting a flannel button down and pants that were too big on him. One-Eye eats the apple pit before Will can stop him, and peals back the skin on the banana and starts on that. "Eat slower, and try these on." He trades the clothes for the banana peal and leaves before the other man can strip from his pants.
~*~*~*~
Down by the water, One-Eye doesn't join him in the current, but he does pay close attention to what Will does while he explains the process. He's barefoot, having made his way outside with the dogs before Will could even begin to try to discover if he'd have something that would fit his feet. Will didn't argue, instead he gathered up what he needed and followed One-Eye outside. He waves to the agents, different ones than the ones that introduced themselves, and admires the way the light plays off the silvery streaks in One-Eye's hair. The suns out, warming the air enough to make it comfortable. Will can't focus on what he's doing, his attention is split between his line and the way One-Eye looks so… normal in his clothing. Even further, he looks good in his clothing. Not even a week had gone by and he already feels the tug towards the man, a man that he can't have a tug towards.
There's just something in the way the man stares at him with so much…interest that has heat pooling in his stomach. The way he looks to him for anything, even though he knows it's just the way he's been trained to be, it still…
His phone rings on the shore, and One-Eye turns his attention to it while Will makes his way towards it. "Hello."
"Will, there's another body. I need you down here, bring One-Eye."
Chapter 3
Summary:
Okay friends! One chapter left after this, and it's going to have some smut and some tears.
I hope to have this finished by Monday the latest, then I'm onto my Prague crossover! I think I'm going with Christoffer/Will (like I said, I have a link with English subtitles if you need to still see it!).
I love you all, really.
Chapter Text
One-Eye looks terribly out of place in Jack's office; he looms in the doorway after Will had taken a seat across from Jack and next to Alana. The third seat remains empty, until Alana turns to the silent man, "Why don't you come sit down?" Will turns to him and watches the way he complies with uncertainty, his eye taking in the pictures of the mutilated bodies that hang on the board.
"Beverly said this one took a beating, but his throat was cut and he bled out," Jack studies One-Eye who can't look away from the pictures of the mutilated bodies. People he killed. The cuts on his knuckles burn and he turns his attention to Will again. "None of the others were killed this way. Since I last talked to you, they found another body not far away. A woman, same pattern of wounds only she was strangled to death."
"Maybe the winner couldn't finish," Will supplies, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Jack despite the prying gaze demanding his attention from the man next to him. He studies the picture of the woman Jack slides across to him. She's left just like the others, naked and beaten, degraded. Her hair is matted, the fingernails ripped apart in her struggles. Will peeks over at One-Eye who had taken an interest in the picture as well. The man studies the picture closely, and Will searches for the answer to why they suddenly have a dead woman amongst all the dead men. In a barely there movement, One-Eye's face twitches before he looks away to look back at Will.
He recognizes her.
Will focuses on the blank look in the man's eye and tries to see past it, past the nothingness to see the thoughts whirling around behind it. Fighters. Men captured and forced to fight each other for money, beaten and mutilated. 'Kids are sold in other parts of the world and trained to fight like dogs', unless they didn't just want to keep buying them…
"Was there signs of sexual assault?" Will asks Jack without looking away from One-Eye.
Jack confirms with the report, "Yes there was."
Will feels his stomach curdle, "They used her for breeding." No one says anything right after that, and the way One-Eye's gaze drops to the floor between them confirms his suspicions. "The leaders of this organization do this for money, these men are animals to them. Instead of trying to find more to buy, they just raise their own."
"He has to know where these people are," Jack accuses, and One-Eye looks at him stonily.
"He doesn't know, Jack. He was tortured just like these men in the pictures, he's a victim," Will interjects because he just can't hear it anymore.
He's surprised when Jack actually lets it go, "I'm going to go talk to the two we have in custody, someone has to know more about what's going on here."
~*~*~*~
He makes Mac N' Cheese this time, light like soup with a little more substance. The way One-Eye scarfs down his bowl tells Will he's starving. The way he doesn't try to get more food tells Will he's used to it. He frowns at his own bowl and slowly slides it to the other man, "Eat that too," and One-Eye doesn't hesitate to engulf the rest of his as well.
Will gives him his pills and broaches the subject of a shower before he changes the bandages, since there's no more sponge baths while he's out cold. "I'll help you adjust the water, it'll be good for your back." He leads the man back to the bathroom and lets the water heat up. "Take off your shirt so I can help you with the bandage."
He's pleased the marks don't look so irritated; One-Eye unravels the ace bandage on his hands and flexes his fingers. "You can move your fingers again," he notes, pleased with the way the other man rotates his wrist and finds he can do that too. In the past, every movement of his hands shot pain up his arm, and now it hardly aches. Will lets him examine himself in privacy while he checks the water before he goes to get a towel and pajama pants for the other man. One-Eye is already behind the glass doors and under the stream of water when he gets back, and he leaves the towel and bottoms on the counter. He busies himself with grading another paper and washing their dishes while he listens to the water run through the pipes of his house. He's not used to hearing that, since he's always in the bathroom when it happens. It's a sign of life besides his own, another human life in his home. It's a warm feeling.
One-Eye moves silently after he showers, focusing on the burn of the cuts on his back from the water and it's not entirely unpleasant. He stands at the end of the hallway and watches Will behind the computer, studying the man's dark curls while he feels the pull of the pills he'd taken after they ate. Will must feel him there because he looks up and smiles slightly, "I'll bandage your back and you can lay down."
Will makes sure the area is completely dry before he reapplies the cover, leaving the discarded wraps for his hands on the counter, and One-Eye follows him back to the bed, his head heavy with the pull of sleep. "I'm gonna shower too, just rest for now."
He checks to make sure the other man lays down before going to have a shower of his own, and he doesn't let himself linger for fear the other man will need something in his absence. He doesn't need anything; Will comes back and lets himself appreciate the relaxed features of the man buried under the covers on his bed. He lets the dogs out and forces himself to grade two more papers before he takes his place on the couch.
~*~*~*~
Every time they release his arms, he knows what's coming. They drag in another, dropping her just within reach of the chain around his neck. He stays on his knees and watches with an empty eye as the men bark at him to do it. The woman cries quietly, but she doesn't struggle. She knows better by now, and so does he. Carlos grabs the whip and it cracks against his shoulder blade and he falls forward and crawls over her. He can't get hard, it's too much for him and he doesn't want to do this. He hangs his head and enters her as gently as he can manage, and he wants to dip his head and kiss her but they aren't lovers…this isn't-
He opens his eye and blinks at the now familiar room, his mind protesting at waking up when the drugs demand he sleeps. His back burns where it's being pushed against the mattress, and his skin crawls uncomfortably and he sits up and slips off the bed onto the floor. Gently, he tugs the shirt over his head and folds it because it's Will's and he's kind enough to let him borrow it. He feels warm even though his skin is cold, and he shakes when he sinks down at the foot of the bed and rests his head against the edge of the mattress.. He's tired, his eye fights to close and stay opened at the same time; he wants to give in and rest, but his body and mind refuse to grant him rest. He blinks slowly and turns his head to rest it on the bed so he can watch Will while he sleeps.
He envies the man for still being able to sleep, even though he'd heard his breathing change in the middle of the night when he was plagued with a nightmare. He'd heard it at the hospital too when Will had dozed off, only to startle awake after a bad dream. He can see how his chest rises and falls under his plain grey shirt, even from across the room in the dark. He'd told him to wake him up if he couldn't sleep, he'd given voice to his thoughts in a way that had never happened before. Maybe he could also silence his thoughts as well.
Will jumps when he feels a hand on his chest, and he turns to find One-Eye on his knees besides the couch, his head resting on the cushions so he can look at him. He looks exhausted, "Can't stay asleep again? Do you feel alright?" One-Eye's chiseled lips twitch down into a frown, the first time his neutral face showed any sign of life, and Will can feel the hand trembling on his chest. "Let me go get the comforter for you at least." When he goes to sit up, the hand fists a handful of his shirt to stop him, "I'm just going to-" The hand grips tighter, holding him in place, and he lets himself lay back again. "Okay, okay," he mumbles, and the fist relaxes slightly but doesn't let go. He maneuvers his own blanket so it drapes over the man's shoulders and his eye dips closed. Will debates for a minute before he slowly lifts his hand and places it on the other man's left cheek. He doesn't raise his head from the couch, but he does open his eye to watch Will's face while his thumb gently brushes over the scarred mass of his left eye. He tenses but doesn't flinch, and Will doesn't push it; he lets his fingers trail up to pet the side of his head and his freshly washed hair. The softness of his hair and skin are surprising, considering the rough nature of the scars and the hard plaster of his facial expressions. He watches and strokes the other man's face until his lips part slightly and he goes slack with sleep before he lets his own eye fall closed. The warmth in his chest expands and bursts in a way he'd never felt before.
~*~*~*~
"Will Graham lives in Virginia," Leo informs Walt, "He's not real F.B.I., he's a consultant and a professor."
Walt nods, "We need to plan a trip."
"According to my source, he has a few agents posted at his place at all times," he warns.
"That won't be a problem."
~*~*~*~
Will nearly forgets where One-Eye had decided to sleep when he first opens his eyes, until he lifts his hand to discover it had remained perched on the sleeping mans face. The large, calloused hand on his chest held the fabric of his shirt hooked on it's fingers. His eyes travel down the scarred arm to the man's face, still at ease with sleep. His dark hair is fluffy and dry, hanging in his face in a way that makes Will reach forward to gently brush it back over his shoulder. Winston had taken the place right next to One-Eye, the dogs head resting against the man's shin. He can't fathom how One-Eye was able to sleep with his knees firmly planted on his hardwood floor, but when he opens his eye, he seems in no rush to get up off the floor. "You're going to have to find a way to not sleep on the floor anymore, it can't be comfortable."
One-Eye stretches and Winston lifts his head. The two stare at each other for a minute before the hand on his shirt releases him to slowly rest on Winston's head. Will doesn't disturb the moment even though his bladder demands he go to the bathroom, instead he waits until Winston decides he has to go out too and heads for the door to get Will's attention. He doesn't have to tell One-Eye what to do when he gets up, and after he lets the dogs out and relieves himself, he finds the other man in the kitchen pouring milk into two bowls of dry cereal. "Thanks."
They eat in silence until Will can think of something to say, "The pictures in Jack's office yesterday bothered you." One-Eye's gaze flashes up from the cereal to his face and back down again in a second. "I know you killed those men, I also know you didn't want to."
He watches the way One-Eye takes slow, deliberate spoonfuls of milk from the bowl, and realizes that the man had made a huge amount of progress in such a small amount of time. He adapted so well; he managed to learn and handle a lot of things that someone born into captivity wouldn't have been able to adjust to so quickly. "You weren't born into the business, or even bought as a child. They captured you as an adult." He tried to imagine One-Eye- that's not even his name- before he was so terribly destroyed. Two eyes, both full of life and a spark of something else, a face that moved with his emotions. His voice would probably be rough and deep, masculine. What would his name be? Where did he come from?
"I feel like I need to tell you I'm sorry, even though I don't exactly know what for; I just feel like someone owes you an apology. We rescue you just to keep you here, we can't even return you to your old life. Here I am making you listen to me because I feel like I need to keep talking so you don't feel like I'm controlling you. I keep explaining things like that makes any of this better." One-Eye looks up at him again, a gleam in his eye that looks a whole lot like mirth. Will commits it to memory and smiles back. "You know, you don't have to sit there and spoon all the milk out, you're supposed to just take the bowl and drink it." One-Eye hesitates, then follows his instructions and uses the back of his hand to wipe the milk from his lips.
Will can't look away.
~*~*~*~
Will decides he actually does have to finish grading his class's assignments, considering he does have a lecture the next day. One-Eye isn't bothered, instead selects a book off the shelf and takes up his spot by the foot of the bed. Will wonders why he'd chosen that spot out of everywhere he could have sat.
When Jack calls, Will really believes a force doesn't want him to finish his grading, "Carlos finally gave us another location; a warehouse about an hour from the office. I'm getting a team ready to go check it out." Something doesn't sit right in Will's stomach and he glances at One-Eye on the floor before he gets up to check out the window. He can see two agents in the car parked behind his own and he relaxes a little.
"Do you want me to meet you there?"
It must slip into his voice that he doesn't want to. One-Eye couldn't come and it doesn't feel alright to leave the man by himself, "No, if I need you for something I'll call you."
When he hangs up, he sits back behind his laptop and stares at the man reading. He's deeply concentrated in the novel, an old copy of 'To Kill A Mockingbird' that had collected dust on his bookshelf as a kid and somehow made it to his bookshelf as an adult, where it also collected dust. He'd read it once, and really liked it. He never read it again, but when he'd see it he'd remember he enjoyed it, and for some reason that had justified it's presence in his life all these years.
Remembering the papers, he sits and reads through and tries to stay focused on each word, but his mind travels and he just doesn't want to sit here.
He gets through five more, and has six more left when he can't be indoors anymore.
He merely suggests going for a walk, and One-Eye returns the book to it's place and wanders down the hall to change. Outside, Will makes sure to pass the agent's car to take a look at who's inside. Again, they're different than the ones he'd seen before but they wave just as politely. He throws a stick to the dogs and they run off after it, deciding to run right past it when they see a squirrel scurry up a tree on the edge of the property. The wind brings a chill, but the sun negates it, making the weather perfect for a stroll. The silence is companionable, despite there being no other option. Will lets his mind drift again, wondering what Jack found, if anything. He's sure he'll get a call soon. What happens when it's all over? Distantly, he'd believed that One-Eye staying with him had been temporary- he'd move on and start to rebuild his own life again once it was safe- but it certainly didn't feel that way. Not that it bothered him. A week ago, if anyone had asked him if he thought he wouldn't mind living with someone, he would have laughed; now he'd realized he liked the company, even from someone as different as the man he found himself with now. The arrangement worked, and he liked it. The choice wouldn't be his, though, when this was over. In the end, it would be up to the other man where they would go from there.
His phone rang to bring him back to the current moment, and it's the first time in so long that he's actually happy to see it's Jack, "What did you find?"
"The warehouse was empty, but they were there. It was more serious then the others we found, there was a lot of computers and surveillance systems recording the fighting ring they had set up," Jack's voice sounds rough and empty and Will knows theres more.
"They were for recording the more important fights, the high stake ones," he winces at his choice of words and glances at One-Eye to make sure he hadn't noticed. The other man stares straight ahead, scanning the trees.
"There were four bodies, all chained like we found One-Eye, three men and one woman. M.E. says one had a cracked skull and the other two had internal bleeding, and the woman they just killed. They were too much of a burden to take with them, the other chains were empty. I think they knew we were on to them and decided to leave."
Something cold grips Will's chest and he exhales harshly, if they're on the run they could be anywhere. "We're going to take a look at these computers they have here and see if we can get anything off them."
~*~*~*~
"Did you make it out before the F.B.I. arrived?"
Walt leans back in the passenger seat of the van, "Yes, you did good work with alerting us, I owe you for that. I arranged for an extraction tomorrow night, back to Russia. We need to regroup. I trust we can make our moves before then?"
Leo watches Will Graham slip his phone back into his pocket and whistle for his dogs, "Yes."
~*~*~*~
"I have to go give a lecture tomorrow, and I told my students I'd have this graded by then so I have to finish," he informs the other man once they'd eaten a late lunch. Toast and tea, plus the apple One-Eye had helped himself too from the fruit bowl. He'd decided to give the man a tour of his whole property, showing him all the scenery he'd grown to love over the years. One-Eye was content to go back to his book and let Will grade his papers.
He'd gotten through three more before he heard One-Eye stand and make his way to the door, surprised when he holds it open for the dogs to come with him. He doesn't get up to look for him until he finishes the paper he's grading. When he doesn't see him from the window right away, his heart jumps until he spots him out in the field throwing a stick to his dogs. Again neglecting the last three papers, he drags his current motor project out onto the porch to work on it before the sun gets too low in the sky.
Eventually, One-Eye wanders back on his own, all the dogs close on his heels. He comes to stand beside Will, eyeing the grease on his hands, "Remember I told you I like collecting junked boat motors and making them run again? Well, this one needed a new fuel pump, and I decided to change a few other things that looked burnt out." The other man couches to get a better look, and watches him tinker in silence, looming next to him until the sun gets too low to be able to see.
They go through their nightly ritual, food, pills, bandage change, and One-Eye props himself up in his spot by the bed with the book in his hand. Will manages one more paper because he has to finish, and decides the last two can wait until the morning. When Will takes his place on the couch, One-Eye doesn't even bother with getting on the bed and putting on a shirt, instead he just sets the book down and rests his head in the same spot as his eye gets heavy. Will lets him, he can progress at his own pace.
He must've dozed off, because he jumps when he feels a hand come to clutch his shirt like the night before. He opens his eyes and One-Eye is back in the same spot by the couch, and Will reaches to stroke his cheek. He doesn't think about it much when he says, "Come up here." It seems almost natural, the way he shifts onto his side to make room for the other man who lays down in front of him. One-Eye doesn't think twice about wrapping his arm around Will's middle and burying his face in his neck. He inhales deeply and takes in the whole essence of Will.
Will wonders if this is what One-Eye had wanted the whole time, and decides he doesn't care and he brings his own arm up to spread the blanket over the both of them, then settles it around One-Eye's shoulders. His finger tips stroke the nap of his neck, right above the white bandage. "This might help you sleep better," he murmurs, and the other man tightens his grip on him. Will listens to him breathe with his eyes closed, listening as they even out and deepen when he finally falls asleep. The few times he'd cuddled with someone, he found that the closeness and heat had kept him awake and uncomfortable. This time, the press of the muscular frame and the body heat lull him and he lets himself rest without thinking so much.
Chapter 4
Summary:
This is it guys...
You get some smut and...other things. Thank you ALL for reading along and encouraging me, and to OP for prompting this! If you haven't been reading the comments, I've decided next I'm going to tackle a Prague crossover, and I decided Christoffer will meet Will! Eyes peeleddddd.
I'm sorry in advance for this.
Chapter Text
The sky outside is fading from black to dark orange, he can sense it. The first thing he's aware of before he opens his eye is how unusually warm he is. There is no chill in his bones, but instead he's warm enough that his skin even feels a little damp with sweat, a feeling he'd long since forgotten. Second, he isn't on his knees and his back isn't aching, his shoulders aren't locked in a hunch. He isn't restrained at all, aside from the arm that is loosely draped around the tops of his shoulders. He opens his eye and remains perfectly still, afraid the slightest movement will break this moment and wake Will up.
Will.
He studies his face that is mere inches away from his own, so close that every breath Will takes wafts over his face and tickles his hair. His bare chest is pressed to Will's clothed one, the expanding and contracting of his ribcage presses against his steadily- his arm rising and falling with each movement. Logically, he knew it was untrue but he felt as if he needed this man. After countless years of unspeakable things, Will was such a beautiful form of quiet and kindness. His instincts didn't apply to Will, the ugly swell of violence that would consume him when people even got too near just never came. For so many years he'd been trapped physically, and trapped mentally in his own body. He hadn't felt connected to his own self; every fight and beating had seemed to echo through his body as if it was an empty shell. All the times he'd been so desperate for food he'd scarified his dignity to devour any scrapes that were tossed his way, all the times he'd forced himself upon abused women who cried underneath him when he tried to make himself cum just to end it faster; his mind had simply hummed white noise to fill his head.
That was how he survived, but survival wasn't living. He had distant memories of a whole different world that he'd been long ago forced to leave behind, but he'd been alive then. This was being alive now. He couldn't imagine real thoughts filling his headspace again up until not even a week ago, and how quickly he could adapt because he never really forgot. He'd taken the time to let himself look in the small mirror that hung in Will's bathroom when he'd showered, and he'd realized he hadn't given much thought to what his face looked like now. He hadn't seen it in years and it was easy to forget. The mutilation to his face had taken him back; he'd known it wouldn't be pretty but it looked so…wrong. They'd treated him like an animal, he behaved like one, and he even looked like one. It was incredible that he was here, wrapped around this person who didn't care that he'd been forever destroyed. He'd cuddled in memories he wasn't sure were his own, but he couldn't remember feeling this content. He turns his head and his lips ghost over the stubble on Will's jaw, and the warmth that spreads in his stomach seems so foreign.
Will is tugged out of sleep when he feels One-Eye's arm tighten around his back and he instinctively tightens his own arm to bring the man closer. His hand on the back of his neck strokes through One-Eye's hair in comfort, "It's okay," he whispers sleepily. When he opens his eyes, One-Eye's face is so close that the air from his lungs falls on his lips. One-Eye's mouth hovers uncertainly an inch away until he finds the courage to press his lips hesitantly to Will's.
They stay like that, their mouths frozen together, until Will tightens his hand in the long hair and presses their lips together firmly. One-Eye responds beautifully, parting his lips just as Will turns his head to deepen the kiss. The big hand on his back bunches his shirt on his shoulders and slides down to crawl up under the fabric. The kiss is needy, and Will's tongue teases the roof of the other man's mouth until their tongues touch.
One-Eye pulls back first, and when he opens his eye, it's dark and hooded with lust. "Show me what you need," Will whispers to him, and the hand on his back retreats and slides between them and down into the front of One-Eye's flannel pants. Will's hand joins his to push the offending waistband down around the front of his thighs so he can watch the way the other man's long thumb brushes back and forth under the head of his own cock. Will looks up to see the other man's throat flex and his adam's apple bob in a heavy swallow before his eyes travel higher to find the man's eye. His face betrays nothing, but Will can feel the desperation seeping through him. His eye is wide but steady and Will gets it; he needs this, but it's a question. He'd exposed his desire, and now the choice was Will's. He could say no and he knew the other man would return to his place on the floor across the room, despite the need for this.
Will tilts his head and leans in slowly, making his intentions clear before he presses a kiss to the sharp left cheekbone, then to the scar tissue that had taken over the sight of his left eye. A sharp breath rushes out of One-Eye's lungs at the gesture, and he's completely still while Will kisses the corner of his ruined eye again and then leans up to kiss his ear. "It's okay," he repeats again, and he feels the hand between them slowly start to move. He kisses his way down his left cheek again, through the rough hair on his jaw and down to his throat. He nips and sucks small marks into the flesh there, listening to the harsh breaths against the top of his head while One-Eye's hand works himself over. "Feel good?" he says for the hell of it, and before he can slip his hand between them to assist- he's pushed flat on his back. One-Eye is panting when he sits back and tugs the front of Will's pajamas down and wraps his longer fingers around both of them in the same hand.
Will moans breathlessly, and when One-Eye jerks them both off until his hand looses it's momentum and he collapses on top of him. His hips jerk roughly against his, rubbing their erections together and they slide easily with wetness gathering on the heads. Will can feel the other man needs something from him, and on a whim he plants both of his hands on One-Eye's cheeks and pulls his face down for a kiss before his lips travel again, dragging along every inch of skin on his face. "It's okay," he gasps for the third time, and he isn't even sure who he's talking to. It's enough, and One-Eye tenses against him and cums in hot bursts against Will's pelvis. He's completely silent, aside from sharp breaths and shuddering muscles when his body unclenches. Lazily, One-Eye drags a hand down the planes of Will's stomach and fists his throbbing erection with clumsy motions, his mouth drops down to nip at Will's collarbone. The bites turn to kisses when Will releases with a quiet moan, and the hand on his cock slides back up his sides to rest on his chest.
They lay there, sticky and blissful until the dogs decide they need to go outside. "I need to get up and take care of the dogs, and we both need a shower before I finish grading and get ready for my class," he says reluctantly, but the other man obeys and sits up so they he can get off the couch.
He tends to the dogs and make sure One-Eye eats before he takes his pills and after Will removes the bandages from his skin so he can shower, he takes hold of Will's arm to get his attention, "Together?"
They stand under the water together, and Will lets One-Eye map his body with his hands, only protesting when the man slowly sinks to his knees. "You don't have to-" and he breaks off in a moan when the man takes his member into his mouth and sucks. His hands find the long, wet hair to hold but doesn't guide his movements. He doesn't push One-Eye's head down on him, just merely holds on while the man switches between sucking and licking the head. It's inexperienced and sloppy, but perfect and Will cums again against One-Eye's cheek. He tugs the man to his feet and turns him around, wrapping his arms around his waist to find his hardness while he kisses the undamaged skin of his back.
It's comfortable after- One-Eye resumes his spot at the foot of the bed with his book in hand while Will finishes his papers. He has to lecture at one, and he checks the clock when he's finished to see it's just after eleven-thirty. "I have to get ready for class, I need you to make sure you eat and take your pills on time…" Though One-Eye doesn't look up at him, he knows the other man heard him and accepts that he is more than capable of taking care of himself.
A thought comes to him when he sits to put his shoes on, "When I come back I have to take you to see your doctor, then maybe we could go into town? I know a few places with some pretty good soups and salads…" he trails off and his feels his face get hot when he looks away from the intenseness of One-Eye's gaze.
Will looks back quickly to gauge his reaction, and if he didn't he would have missed the quick twitch of his lips and the glint in his eye. He found it funny, Will's awkward babbling and Will smiled back. "I'll take that as a yes."
He gathers his things for his lecture and packs them into his bag, "I'm going to leave the landline on the table with my cell number, all you have to do is call so it will ring and I'll leave early to come back if you need anything." He already planned on cutting his last class early anyway.
He feels like he needs to say more, but instead he awkwardly waves and leaves before he says something stupid. It's a slight relief that the agents are still parked outside. He waves to them before he gets in his own car and heads towards the school.
~*~*~*~
Jack nudges Leo when Graham opens the front door, "Look, he's leaving without One-Eye."
Leo checks the time, "Perfect, their relief will be here in just about two hours." Jack looks over the back seat at the two dead agents they'd stuffed in the back of their own car and crinkles his nose. Leo calls Walt, "Graham left, One-Eye is alone."
"We're on our way."
~*~*~*~
He feels strange without Will around, and the dogs must sense it because they come to gather around him. He puts his book down to stroke their fur, finding himself wondering what would happen between Will and him tonight. He hadn't been around groups of people in so long, and the overwhelming feelings he'd experienced when he'd first been discovered in the filth. He'd felt more like an animal in that moment than he ever had before, with everyone gathered around him. Part of him had seen their arrival as a chance to find peace. He resented the chains holding him in place because he knew if he could just get close enough, they'd shoot him and he'd finally be able to rest. His eye closes and he reaches up to touch his throat when he feels like his throat is closing up like it had when he'd extend too far from where the chains tethered him. Instead, his fingers find the soft spots that ache just slightly where Will had sucked and bit. The storm inside him eases and he exhales the pressure inside him.
He makes himself read a few more pages before he gets up to eat something. He wanders around the house with an apple in his hand, pacing from room to room. He lets his fingers glide along the surfaces he comes in contact with, the dogs following him. He concludes that Will likes the color blue, if the color of most of the walls and a lot of his possessions is any reflection. The house feels worn and lonely, and considers how long Will had lived here by himself. It was obvious the man didn't have many friends, if he had any at all.
He's just finished his exploring of the room he assumes was at one time where Will kept his bed when he hears something outside. The dogs hear it too, and their ears perk up, and two of them even growl low in their chest. He wants to convince himself it's Will, but the dogs wouldn't growl if it was Will. Instincts rise in him once more, and he feels every muscle in his body tense and coil. Winston barks, and One-Eye knows something is wrong. His heart starts to pound and he decides last minute that the bad feeling he has is solid enough proof that there's danger. He doesn't know what exactly compels him to force the dogs back into the room and shut the door, but he knows that if anything happened to them because they were trying to protect him Will would be heartbroken.
There is only silence around him, aside from the dogs whining and pawing at the closed door behind him. He flexes his hands and steals himself when he turns the corner at the end of the hallway. The living room is empty, but his eyes scan the room and tell him someone had been inside it. The book he'd been reading was left face down but open, and now sat closed with the front cover up.
He only has a split second to turn around when he hears someone behind him, and he'd been trained well enough to get a hit in. The man hits the wall and bounces back, lunging at him again. He jumps out of the way, and right into someone else. He clenches his fists and swings at anything he can, bending down to get the man in front of him around the middle. They both crash into the table against the wall, sending it toppling over. He grabs a fistful of the man's hair and gets to slam it once against the floor before something comes around his neck. He chokes when he's dragged up by the throat, his hands clawing at the arms that hold the wire in place on his neck. The man on the ground stumbles to his feet, and he recognizes him as the one they call Leo. Leo grabs his clawing hands and forces them down, and One-Eye kicks at him to make him back up. His sight narrows and his brain screams for air, and he's helpless when Leo drives a taser into his ribs. The shock blinds him and the last thought he has before his mind blacks out is that he's glad he locked the dogs away.
~*~*~*~
Will cuts his last class about a half an hour early, and Alana manages to catch him on his way out. "How are things, Will?"
"Good, getting easier. He adapted really quickly," he feels uncomfortable, as if she will be able to sense what happened between the two of them only hours before.
"You're really good for him, Will," she smiles, and he excuses himself because he just needs to get back.
Jack calls him when he's crossing the parking lot, "Will, there's a problem." He feels an overwhelming sense of dread consume him all at once, and he runs the rest of the way to his car, "When the two agents go to your house to relieve the two on duty, they found them dead in their car. One-Eye isn't here, Will. There are signs of a struggle."
He wants to scream, but instead he chokes, "Where were my dogs?"
"Locked in one of the rooms."
~*~*~*~
They sweep his house for signs of anything, and Jack decides to even sweeten the deal for Carlos to give them more information. They get two more locations, and Jack sends a team to go investigate while they keep looking around his house. Will feels cold, he can't even bring himself to sooth his distressed dogs.
He locked them in the room to protect them.
He takes in the turned over table and the hole in his wall, he can practically see the struggle taking place. They must have surprised him, and it must have been more than one person. He stands there, staring at the mess for what seems like forever while Beverly and the team collects what little evidence is left behind. They take his copy of 'To Kill A Mockingbird' to check for prints, he doesn't even want it back.
"Will," Jack is next to him again, "Teams checked the new locations, they said everything has been completely cleaned out."
Jack's voice sounds far away, and he knows what it means, "You have to have someone check any transportation out of the country."
"I alerted them already before I called you."
Will shakes his head and he's angry because this isn't fair, "We have to get him back, Jack. Even if we just find out where they took him from. Anything to start on."
Jack frowns at him, "I'm having people talk to Carlos still, Will. Just because they got him from somewhere out of the country, doesn't mean they're going back there. They could be anywhere."
Will doesn't have the self control to stop himself from rushing to the kitchen sink to vomit.
~*~*~*~
He jerks awake, flinching at the sound of the chains knocking together around his neck. He's blindfolded, and he squirms to try to get his bearings. All of the clothes Will had given him to wear are gone, even the bandage. He can feel his back is sticky and tight- all the care Will had put into trying to heal the wounds on his back was wasted, he can feel the blood drying. Was Will even real, or had it been a dream? Something presses solidly on the side of his face and he stills under the distinct feeling of the rubber sole of a boot, "How quickly you forget. Get the fuck up on your knees." He swallows the rising feelings inside him and forces himself up. He closes his eye even though he can't see anyway, tensing to brace himself from falling over with the movement of…whatever they were in. "I guess Will still didn't manage to get you to talk. He seemed like a nice guy."
He clenches his jaw and swallows thickly when the blindfold is pulled off. He blinks up at Walt, "It was just so easy. He walked right out to his car and right into us, he was an unwanted causality." Violence builds and boils in his veins and he clenches his fists and stares up at the man with the look of a murderer. Walt smiles at him, "There you are, I've seen that look in your eye before. Save that rage for your next fight, I'll need you to win some pretty high stake ones to make back all the money I lost with this set back. It's just a shame poor Will had to die because of it."
It doesn't matter if it's true or not true; his head fills with white hot screeching and he lunges towards the man and keeps struggling to get closer even as the collar on his neck cuts off his air. Walt doesn't even flinch at his movement, and his smile never wavers. "Perfect. I'll schedule your next fight for as soon as I can. That rage will work very well." He doesn't stop tugging to get closer, the desire to rip the skin from Walt's bones is so strong he can't make himself stop. He doesn't stop even after Walt calls for Leo, and pain shoots through his back when something bites into the skin. If it had been years ago when he'd first been captured, he would have screamed at the searing pain. Now the loud humming in his head is making too much noise for him to even find enough oxygen in his body to scream.
He falls back onto his side, and the cereal he'd eaten crawls back up his throat and splatters in front of him.
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