Fic, Evening Comes, Becker/Ethan, 18
Apr. 13th, 2014 11:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Evening Comes
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Becker/Ethan, Ryan, Danny, Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Trapped together by snow in a deserted city, if an anomaly doesn’t open soon, Becker and Ethan will be facing death
A/N : Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jaynedoll’s birthday. I hope you have a lovely day! Three years ago she wanted some Becker/Ethan hurt/comfort, with Becker doing the comforting. This is a continuation of what has now become a birthday series and follows The Dark Before the Dawn, Out of Darkness Into Dayand The Shadows of Morning.
Warning : Mention of rape and other abuse.
Becker watched the dull red glow of the small fire in the cellar. He was three hours into his watch, but he knew there was no possibility of his companion taking a turn.
Ethan Dobrowski was slumped against the wall of their basement shelter, wrapped in a battered survival blanket. He was running a high temperature and clearly needed urgent medical attention, but there was precious little chance of that.
They’d spent the last six days trapped by a snowstorm in a deserted town, with few clues to where or when they were. One possibility was that they were in an elaborate film set, another – less attractive prospect – was that the buildings had been left standing after some sort of disaster had led to a mass evacuation. But if an anomaly didn’t open soon, they’d die of cold and malnutrition before any kind of radiation sickness had chance to do its work. Their meagre stash of food was almost gone and with it, Ethan’s condition was steadily deteriorating.
The abuse he’d suffered at the hands of Burton and his men had left him with internal injuries and a badly torn arse. The revelation that they’d used their weapons to rape him as well as their dicks had sickened Becker to the core. He’d done his best to wipe away the crusted blood with his dwindling antiseptic wipes, and the bleeding did appear to have stopped, but the damage had been done and infection had clearly taken hold.
Even Ethan’s customary – and remarkably inventive – stream of insults in Russian had dried up, and it had been nearly ten hours since he’d even had the energy to call Becker either ‘soldier boy’ or ‘princess’. The man was stubborn, irritating and had a chip on his shoulder the size of a giant redwood, but Becker had grown used to his companionship and now missed the man’s barbed tongue.
Becker looked at his watch for probably the hundredth time that night. It was drawing close to daylight, or at least the watery, grey dawns he’d come to expect from this frozen hell of a world. He fed a few small pieces of wood to the fire and decided he couldn’t ignore the pressure on his bladder any longer, although it had been a good way of stopping himself falling asleep, but if he didn’t take a piss soon, he was going to be in trouble.
“I’m going for a slash,” he said, his words a hollow echo in the silence of the dank basement.
There was no reply. He hadn’t expected one. When he got back, he’d do his best to feed the remains of a tin of corned beef to the man, even though he knew he was probably wasting food on someone whose chance of survival was falling with every day they spent away from proper medical care.
Becker felt like every joint in his body had been frozen solid. With a supreme effort, he struggled upright, leaning against the roughly mortared brick wall for support. He managed to make his way across the floor and up the steps without the need to turn on his Maglite, so familiar had that short journey become that it was easily accomplished in the almost total darkness.
Outside, the snow had stopped falling, but a few flakes still drifted on the chill air, blown around by a light wind. Becker fumbled with almost permanently numb fingers at his flies and wondered vaguely when frost bite would set in. He’d spent a considerable time each day and night rubbing his hands and feet, and Ethan’s, in the hope of keeping the circulation moving and so far it seemed to have worked, but he doubted it would be effective for much longer. The temperature seemed to be falling, or maybe the lack of food just made things seem colder. Drinking warm water made from meting snow in a battered pan over their small fire helped, and at least they’d managed to avoid dehydration but that wasn’t much consolation. He’d bloody kill for a bacon butty and a mug of strong coffee.
His cock looked as limp as Becker felt. When the stream had finished and the pressure on his bladder had finally receded, Becker shook himself off and was careful to avoid catching himself or any of his pubic hair in the zip as he’d insisted on dressing Ethan in his own keks when he’d finally finished wiping the blood from the other man’s arse. That had provoked some amusing insults. Ethan had an entertaining ability to dredge up curses in a wide variety of languages picked up on his travels through what he referred to as the gateways, and Becker missed the banter of their first few days. Initially, their exchanges had been barbed, carrying an edge of barely-concealed danger, but that had gradually transformed into some genuine amusement and the kind of camaraderie that Becker remembered from other tight spots since he’d joined the army. The black humour that soldiers the world over revelled in had at least kept them from lapsing into total silence.
Becker shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his uniform jacket and stepped towards the broken door that led out onto the snow-covered street. He’d lost any hope of seeing an anomaly, but the habit of looking for one was impossible to break.
He came to an abrupt halt in the doorway.
Directly in front of him on a pile of rubble that poked out of the white covering, blown clear by the biting wind, a small brown bird with a bright red breast stared at him out of two dark eyes. The robin tilted its head to one side, held the eye-contact for a long moment and then took to the wing, flitting away so quickly that for a moment, Becker wondered if he’d really seen it at all, but then hope flared like the flames he’d painstakingly coaxed from their small fire. This was the first sign of life he’d seen since becoming stranded in this white wilderness.
He looked around quickly, trying to work out what direction the bird might have come from. There were a few scattered tracks in the snow, but they didn’t tell him much. Becker debated going back in the cellar to wake Ethan, but his companion was too far gone to be of any use trudging through snow drifts in search of an anomaly. If Becker didn’t find a way out of here, they’d both die, so it was a no-brainer. He’d have to take the chance and leave Ethan alone with the fire in their shelter while he tried to seize a possible opportunity to get away from the world that was slowly but surely killing them both.
Becker caught sight of a small flash of brown and red some distance away. That was all the encouragement he needed. Moving as quickly as he could through the snow-covered street, Becker followed the robin like Alice in pursuit of the white rabbit. He rounded a corner and saw, half a block away, the glittering light of an anomaly, looking like a shattered diamond, reflecting off the snow as brightly as a distress flare.
The robin landed on the ground, just in front of the anomaly, fluffed up its feathers and then hopped back to its own time. Wishing he knew more about ornithology, Becker was about to follow, when the anomaly shimmered in the tell-tale way the rips in time did when something large was about to come through.
Becker drew in a sharp breath and ducked into the cover of an open doorway.
Three black-uniformed figures burst through and fanned out in a classic defensive manoeuvre. A moment later, the anomaly expanded again as fourth man strode through, his rifle held in readiness. Short blond hair, broad shoulders, an air of calm competence. Becker’s stomach executed a neat somersault as hope flared as brightly as the anomaly itself.
“Don’t shoot!” he yelled.
Major Tom Ryan turned in his direction, a smile breaking out on his sun-tanned face. Wherever Ryan had been for the last six months, it had certainly been sunny. Becker stepped out of his hiding place, relief making his legs feel as wobbly as a newborn foal.
“Burton?” Becker questioned as Ryan strode through the snow and grasped his hand.
“In the nearest thing I could find to a fucking dungeon,” Ryan said. “What happened to Dobrowski? Did he make it?”
Becker nodded. “Yes, but he’s in a bad way. Did you…?” His voice faltered and he broke off.
“See Burton’s idea of fun? Yes. Lester got the clip you sent, and we found more footage on another camera. For all the PM’s a nasty, self-serving little shit, it turns out that he doesn’t like rape. I got called back in to deal with the fall-out and clear Burton’s goons out of the place. Lester’s back in charge, and we’ve spent the last month trying to get a fix on wherever your sorry arse might be.”
“Month?” Becker’s mind tried – and failed – to wrap itself around the implications of that statement. “But we’ve only been gone a week.”
“We’ll let Connor deal with the timey-wimey stuff when we get back. He reckons this anomaly’s good for another hour or so, but let’s not hang about. Where’s Dobrowski?”
By the time they got back to the basement, the small fire had died down to nothing more than embers and Ethan was slumped sideways, his skin alabaster pale in the light of the powerful rifle-mounted torches. The medic took one look at him and decided speed was of the essence. They bundled his limp form onto a stretcher, strapped him onto it and legged it to the anomaly.
The sudden warmth on the other side enveloped Becker like a comfortable duvet. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and a thermos mug of hot, sweet tea was shoved into his hands. He gulped it down, not caring how hot it was. It tasted fucking brilliant.
“The beard suits you, boss,” one the men joked.
Becker dredged up a smile from somewhere. “Thanks, I’m thinking of keeping it.”
“Still won’t make you look macho, princess.” Ethan’s stretcher was being lifted into a waiting vehicle. His face was turned to Becker, a slight grin quirking his lips, but Becker could see beyond it to the uncertainty and even fear lurking behind the surface of the words.
“Room for a little one in there?” Becker said casually, as he shuffled forwards, hugging the blanket tightly around him.
“Sure, boss,” the medic said. “We’ll have you back to the ARC in no time.”
* * * * *
Their return broke quite a few a few speed limits as the driver made good on that promise, but Becker wasn’t grumbling. After his joke at Becker’s expense, Ethan had lapsed into silence, eyes closed, hands fisted firmly in the blanket covering him. Becker stayed at his side during the swift transfer to the ARC’s well-equipped medical bay.
Danny was waiting for them there, clearly furious at being left behind to kick his heels back at base while Ryan led the expedition to – and beyond – the anomaly.
Ethan pointedly turned his face away from his brother. The look of naked pain on Danny’s face told Becker all he needed to know about the relationship between the two brothers. No matter how long they’d been apart or what Ethan was said to have done, he was still Danny’s kid brother and nothing would ever change that. At least not on Danny’s part. What Ethan felt was harder to fathom. Even after an enforced week in his company, Becker was no closer to figuring out the enigma wrapped in a sneer that was Ethan Dobrowski, or should that be Patrick Quinn? For the moment Becker found it easier to think of him in terms of his assumed name.
The hard-boiled edge was clearly no more than skin deep at the moment. When the medics started to crowd around, Becker could see the look of fear haunting Ethan’s face. The last time he’d been in the ARC he’d been brutally abused and humiliated, and it didn’t take a psychologist to work out that the memories Ethan had suppressed during the past week were now jumping up and down on the touchline, waving their arms about and yelling loudly like pushy parents at sports day.
“Do you want me to stay?” Becker asked quietly.
“Not seen enough of my arse, solder boy?”
Becker grinned. “Nah, it’s your sunny disposition that’s the big draw. Your skinny arse doesn’t do a lot for me.”
“If you’re staying, boss, just make sure you keep out of my way.” Ditzy waved him to a chair in the corner. “I’ll take a look at you later. Can you still feel all your fingers and toes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now shut the fuck up and let me see how the land lies here.”
The medic’s examination of Ethan was rapid and professional. After shooing everyone else out of the room, he told two of the guards to make sure no one came into the medical bay without his express permission, including Danny and Lester, then closed the door firmly. He then stripped the injured man’s clothes off, covering him quickly with a blanket, before starting his examination.
Ethan was thinner than Becker remembered. The dark purple bruises that Burton’s men had inflicted on him had faded to an unappetising mix of yellow colouring extending over significant areas of his torso. Ethan hissed in pain as Ditzy’s fingers probed his chest.
“A couple of cracked ribs,” the medic commented. “Bugger all I can do about them. Just be careful for the next few weeks. Painkillers will help.”
“He prescribes the good stuff,” Becker commented, more as a reminder that he was still present than anything else. “Mixes well with booze, too.”
“I didn’t hear that.” Ditzy pulled the blanket back up over Ethan’s chest. “And that wasn’t your cue to say it again, louder. OK, it’ll be painful, but can you manage to turn onto your side?”
Ethan did as he’d been asked, but failed to disguise his grunt of pain. He kept his eyes firmly closed as Ditzy’s gloved fingers probed his arse with the aid of a liberal smear of some kind of gel. The medic’s face wore the same studiously professional mask but Becker could see the flash of fury in his dark eyes as his examination revealed the damage Ethan had suffered. He’d no doubt also seen the security tapes Ryan had alluded to, so he must have been aware that Burton’s thugs had used their weapons on his patient before they’d even started on him with their cocks. And in Becker’s own experience, blood made a lousy lubricant.
“The cuts have become infected,” Ditzy said, stripping off his gloves and dropping them into a bin. “You’re torn inside and out, but there’s not a lot I can do at this stage other than let nature take its course once we’ve dealt with the infection. On top of that, you’ve escaped frostbite by the skin of your teeth. I’m going to pump you full of antibiotics and painkillers and keep you under observation for a while.” He looked across at Becker. “Your turn now.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my arse,” Becker said defensively.
“I’ll be the judge of that…”
The ghost of a grin settled on Ethan’s pale face. “Want me to stand guard, princess?”
“I know what his bloody hands are like,” Becker grumbled, but he stripped off his shirt and vest as well as his boots and socks and let the medic check him over.
“You need a shower and a decent meal,” Ditzy said, after he’d poked and prodded at Becker’s extremities for a couple of minutes. “Apart from that, you seem fine. Lester’s going to want to talk to you. Better get it over sooner rather than later.” He obviously caught Becker’s eyes straying to Ethan, because he added, “He’s staying here with me, and I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Is that good enough for you?”
It was going to have to be, but even so, Becker found it surprisingly hard to leave the man he’d once thought of as his enemy. He pulled on fresh socks from a bag of clothes that Ryan had brought for him, The black teeshirt and a warm sweater over a clean pair of black combat trousers felt great, even though a shower would have to wait until he’d seen Lester.
“You can trust him,” Becker said to Ethan. “Burton and his bunch of cunts are off the project.”
Ethan muttered something in Russian that Becker didn’t catch, but it sounded like a curse.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Becker hesitated a moment and then left the treatment room.
Ethan’s eyes had closed and he looked like he was asleep, but Becker knew better than to take anything about the man at face value.
* * * * *
“He’s not some sort of stray dog that you can just take home with you, Becker!”
“You can’t keep him locked up, sir. Not after what Burton and his men did. And, for the record, I don’t believe the man is all he’s been made out to be.”
“He tried to blow you up, or have you forgotten that?” Lester said. “And he murdered one of your men in cold blood.”
Becker hadn’t forgotten either of those incidents, but his time spent with Ethan had cast some doubt on what he’d previously believed to be true. The man had claimed not to be a murderer, but he hadn’t elaborated or provided any detailed rebuttals.
“The evidence isn’t a conclusive as we might have first through, sir,” Ryan said quietly. “Danny and I have been doing some digging and it looks like Burton might have found a convenient scapegoat for his own activities in Dobrowski. It would have suited him very well to get rid of Becker and move his own men into this part of the operation. With his influence gone, I think we might be able to get the truth out of some of his men. They’re not all as loyal to him as Burton liked to think, and not all of them liked Burton’s little sideline in recreational rape and murder.”
“So you’re telling me he’s innocent?” Lester demanded.
“I’m telling you he might be innocent,” Ryan said, not giving an inch under the force of Lester’s stare. “Our investigations are ongoing, but that’s the way it’s looking.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “All right, have it your own way for now. You can use one of the staff suites here. But I’m not letting you take him off the premises until Major Ryan is satisfied he’s not a risk. Is that understood?”
Becker shot Ryan a grateful glance and nodded to Lester. “Yes, sir, that’s understood.”
“You’re responsible for him, Becker. He’s your stray, make sure he behaves himself.”
“I’ll spread some papers on the carpet and get a litter tray.”
“See you do.” Lester shuffled some papers on his desk and then gestured regally at the door. “Don’t let me keep you, gentlemen. I’ll expect reports from you both by first thing tomorrow morning.”
Once they were safely out of earshot of Lester’s office, Becker turned to Ryan and thanked him for his support.
“Just watch your back, Becker,” Ryan said, his grey eyes serious. “I know Danny wants to believe in Dobrowski’s innocence, but it’s not a foregone conclusion yet.” Danny had followed them out of Lester’s office and the major held up a hand to forestall his rejoinder. “Don’t waste your breath, Danny. Get me the results of the forensics on that bomb. I need hard evidence, not you two going all touch-feely on me. Becker, he’s your responsibility. I don’t want him outside the ARC until we’re sure he’s in the clear.”
“Yessir,” Becker said.
“And have a shower, for God’s sake.”
Becker grinned. “Can I keep the beard?”
Ryan’s eye-roll was almost up to Lester’s standards. The major strode off down the corridor, leaving Becker alone with Danny.
“Thanks,” Danny said, his voice rough with emotion. “Thanks for keeping him alive, Becks. And thanks for believing in him.”
“I’m not sure what I believe,” Becker admitted. “But I don’t think he’s a murderer.”
* * * * *
With that thought in mind, Becker made his way back to the medical bay. “Lester says we can use one of the staff suites,” he announced. “Is he OK to be moved?”
The imperturbable medic looked up from the notes he was scribbling on. “Ask him yourself. He’s as much of a stubborn sod as you, so I doubt my opinion matters a monkey’s fuck.” Despite his words, there was laughter in the calm brown eyes that had presided over so many misadventures on the part of the anomaly response teams. It took a lot to rattle Ditzy.
“I can get you a wheelchair or something,” Becker said, knowing Ethan was listening, despite the fact that his eyes were closed.
“I can fucking walk, princess.” Ethan sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed, reaching for a pair of plain grey sweatpants that had been left for him.
The belligerence of his words was at odds with the dark eyes that looked like sunken piss-holes in snow and the obvious tremor in his hands but Becker knew better than to offer assistance as Ethan pulled on the trousers and a fleece sweater. They slowly walked through the corridors of the ARC to the lift that would take them to the small flats at the top of the building that doubled as staff accommodation when needed. Becker remained at Ethan’s side, saying nothing, but by the time the lift doors closed on them, Ethan had clearly had enough. He leaned back against the wall of the lift, eyes closed and breathing heavily.
When the lift stopped, Becker stepped out and waited for Ethan to join him. “Put your arm over my shoulder,” Becker instructed.
“Desperate for a hug, soldier boy?”
“Nope, just desperate for a shower. We both smell like a ferret’s crotch.”
To Becker’s surprise, Ethan did loop his arm over his shoulder, breath hissing between his teeth at the strain on his ribs. Becker put his arm around Ethan’s waist, taking as much of his weight as he could and they made their way to the open door of the flat. Someone had clearly been sent up to get the rooms ready. There was fresh milk in the fridge along with a stack of microwaveable ready meals and, even better, in Becker’s opinion, there was a plentiful supply of beer.
Ethan sank onto the sofa, his face now more grey than white.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable lying down?”
The glare Becker got in return for that remark would have felled a charging rhino. “Jesus, don’t you ever shut up?”
Becker grinned. “I can take a hint. I’m going for a shower. Call a search party if I’m not back in an hour.”
A quick check in both bedrooms revealed that someone had brought up the spare clothes from his locker, plus a plentiful supply of towels for each of them, and in the room intended for Ethan there were clothes of approximately the same size as well. They’d even been provided with pyjamas. His appeared to have Dalmatian puppies on. He suspected Jess had been responsible for that. Ethan’s were distinctly more sober, just a plain dark blue.
The hot water cascading over Becker’s body finally started to drive out the last lingering chill of the bleak world they’d found themselves in. His flesh soon started to turn a more healthy shade of pink, soon to turn into a less fetching imitation of a boiled lobster, but it felt so fucking good to be warm and clean that he stayed where he was a while longer, breathing in the warm citrus-scented steam.
“Are you going to hog all the hot water?” The voice from the doorway sounded amused.
Becker turned the water off, ran his hands through his hair to shake off the water and then stepped out. He’d been in the army far too long to have any concerns about nakedness. He grabbed a towel and ran it over his hair. “Be my guest.” He grabbed another towel and wandered through to his bedroom.
He heard the rustle of clothes behind him as Ethan undressed and stepped into the shower. The water started flowing again and Becker left him to it. Five minutes later, the towel wound around his waist and a can of beer in his hand, Becker put his head around the door. To his horror, he saw Ethan on his knees in the shower, thin shoulders shaking as water streamed around him.
Becker crossed the small bathroom in one long stride, wrenching the door open and reaching in to shut off the water. Ethan had obviously got as far as washing his hair and ridding his body of the accumulated sweat, dirt and the final remains of his own blood and other people’s bodily fluids before reaction had set in, but he was now beyond the stage of coherence, incapable of even one of his trade-mark jibes. For a brief moment, Becker considered calling for Ditzy, but he knew Ethan wouldn’t welcome any more intrusion, not in this state. Becker bent down and hauled the other man to his feet as gently as he could. Bundling him into a large towel, Becker steered Ethan out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
Ethan raised no objection as Becker dried him as quickly as he could, before rubbing the towel across the unruly dark hair, helping him into bed and spreading another towel over the pillow to keep it dry. Ethan’s shoulders continued to shake with dry sobs. To allow him a greater degree of privacy, Becker turned off the light in the bedroom, allowing enough of a warm glow in from the hallway to prevent the room resembling the basement they’d holed up in. Not quite how to handle the first open display of emotion he’d seen from the man, Becker did nothing more than sit on the edge of the bed, his hand on Ethan’s shoulder, waiting for the shuddering to cease.
Eventually, Ethan uncurled enough to lean on one elbow and pull the duvet up over his shoulder. He met Becker’s eyes, his expression less guarded than Becker had seen before, making him look younger and more vulnerable. More like the younger brother that Danny must still remember.
A slight smile quirked the side of Ethan’s face. “Thanks, princess. Now are you going to fetch me a beer and then keep the monsters under the bed away?”
Becker grinned and pushed Ethan’s damp hair away from his face. “I think I can manage both of those things.”
They drank the beer out of the same can, propped up on pillows, studiously ignoring the fact that they were sharing a bed, naked, neither willing to do anything to jeopardise the tentative trust they’d established between them. But much later, when Becker turned over in the night and looped his arm around Ethan’s waist, his companion moved backwards into his embrace rather than pushing him away.
Becker knew Ethan still had a long road to travel, but he also knew from his own experience that the first steps were always the hardest to take.
They’d made it back alive. The rest would wait for another day.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Becker/Ethan, Ryan, Danny, Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Trapped together by snow in a deserted city, if an anomaly doesn’t open soon, Becker and Ethan will be facing death
A/N : Written for
jaynedoll’s birthday. I hope you have a lovely day! Three years ago she wanted some Becker/Ethan hurt/comfort, with Becker doing the comforting. This is a continuation of what has now become a birthday series and follows The Dark Before the Dawn, Out of Darkness Into Dayand The Shadows of Morning.Warning : Mention of rape and other abuse.
Becker watched the dull red glow of the small fire in the cellar. He was three hours into his watch, but he knew there was no possibility of his companion taking a turn.
Ethan Dobrowski was slumped against the wall of their basement shelter, wrapped in a battered survival blanket. He was running a high temperature and clearly needed urgent medical attention, but there was precious little chance of that.
They’d spent the last six days trapped by a snowstorm in a deserted town, with few clues to where or when they were. One possibility was that they were in an elaborate film set, another – less attractive prospect – was that the buildings had been left standing after some sort of disaster had led to a mass evacuation. But if an anomaly didn’t open soon, they’d die of cold and malnutrition before any kind of radiation sickness had chance to do its work. Their meagre stash of food was almost gone and with it, Ethan’s condition was steadily deteriorating.
The abuse he’d suffered at the hands of Burton and his men had left him with internal injuries and a badly torn arse. The revelation that they’d used their weapons to rape him as well as their dicks had sickened Becker to the core. He’d done his best to wipe away the crusted blood with his dwindling antiseptic wipes, and the bleeding did appear to have stopped, but the damage had been done and infection had clearly taken hold.
Even Ethan’s customary – and remarkably inventive – stream of insults in Russian had dried up, and it had been nearly ten hours since he’d even had the energy to call Becker either ‘soldier boy’ or ‘princess’. The man was stubborn, irritating and had a chip on his shoulder the size of a giant redwood, but Becker had grown used to his companionship and now missed the man’s barbed tongue.
Becker looked at his watch for probably the hundredth time that night. It was drawing close to daylight, or at least the watery, grey dawns he’d come to expect from this frozen hell of a world. He fed a few small pieces of wood to the fire and decided he couldn’t ignore the pressure on his bladder any longer, although it had been a good way of stopping himself falling asleep, but if he didn’t take a piss soon, he was going to be in trouble.
“I’m going for a slash,” he said, his words a hollow echo in the silence of the dank basement.
There was no reply. He hadn’t expected one. When he got back, he’d do his best to feed the remains of a tin of corned beef to the man, even though he knew he was probably wasting food on someone whose chance of survival was falling with every day they spent away from proper medical care.
Becker felt like every joint in his body had been frozen solid. With a supreme effort, he struggled upright, leaning against the roughly mortared brick wall for support. He managed to make his way across the floor and up the steps without the need to turn on his Maglite, so familiar had that short journey become that it was easily accomplished in the almost total darkness.
Outside, the snow had stopped falling, but a few flakes still drifted on the chill air, blown around by a light wind. Becker fumbled with almost permanently numb fingers at his flies and wondered vaguely when frost bite would set in. He’d spent a considerable time each day and night rubbing his hands and feet, and Ethan’s, in the hope of keeping the circulation moving and so far it seemed to have worked, but he doubted it would be effective for much longer. The temperature seemed to be falling, or maybe the lack of food just made things seem colder. Drinking warm water made from meting snow in a battered pan over their small fire helped, and at least they’d managed to avoid dehydration but that wasn’t much consolation. He’d bloody kill for a bacon butty and a mug of strong coffee.
His cock looked as limp as Becker felt. When the stream had finished and the pressure on his bladder had finally receded, Becker shook himself off and was careful to avoid catching himself or any of his pubic hair in the zip as he’d insisted on dressing Ethan in his own keks when he’d finally finished wiping the blood from the other man’s arse. That had provoked some amusing insults. Ethan had an entertaining ability to dredge up curses in a wide variety of languages picked up on his travels through what he referred to as the gateways, and Becker missed the banter of their first few days. Initially, their exchanges had been barbed, carrying an edge of barely-concealed danger, but that had gradually transformed into some genuine amusement and the kind of camaraderie that Becker remembered from other tight spots since he’d joined the army. The black humour that soldiers the world over revelled in had at least kept them from lapsing into total silence.
Becker shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his uniform jacket and stepped towards the broken door that led out onto the snow-covered street. He’d lost any hope of seeing an anomaly, but the habit of looking for one was impossible to break.
He came to an abrupt halt in the doorway.
Directly in front of him on a pile of rubble that poked out of the white covering, blown clear by the biting wind, a small brown bird with a bright red breast stared at him out of two dark eyes. The robin tilted its head to one side, held the eye-contact for a long moment and then took to the wing, flitting away so quickly that for a moment, Becker wondered if he’d really seen it at all, but then hope flared like the flames he’d painstakingly coaxed from their small fire. This was the first sign of life he’d seen since becoming stranded in this white wilderness.
He looked around quickly, trying to work out what direction the bird might have come from. There were a few scattered tracks in the snow, but they didn’t tell him much. Becker debated going back in the cellar to wake Ethan, but his companion was too far gone to be of any use trudging through snow drifts in search of an anomaly. If Becker didn’t find a way out of here, they’d both die, so it was a no-brainer. He’d have to take the chance and leave Ethan alone with the fire in their shelter while he tried to seize a possible opportunity to get away from the world that was slowly but surely killing them both.
Becker caught sight of a small flash of brown and red some distance away. That was all the encouragement he needed. Moving as quickly as he could through the snow-covered street, Becker followed the robin like Alice in pursuit of the white rabbit. He rounded a corner and saw, half a block away, the glittering light of an anomaly, looking like a shattered diamond, reflecting off the snow as brightly as a distress flare.
The robin landed on the ground, just in front of the anomaly, fluffed up its feathers and then hopped back to its own time. Wishing he knew more about ornithology, Becker was about to follow, when the anomaly shimmered in the tell-tale way the rips in time did when something large was about to come through.
Becker drew in a sharp breath and ducked into the cover of an open doorway.
Three black-uniformed figures burst through and fanned out in a classic defensive manoeuvre. A moment later, the anomaly expanded again as fourth man strode through, his rifle held in readiness. Short blond hair, broad shoulders, an air of calm competence. Becker’s stomach executed a neat somersault as hope flared as brightly as the anomaly itself.
“Don’t shoot!” he yelled.
Major Tom Ryan turned in his direction, a smile breaking out on his sun-tanned face. Wherever Ryan had been for the last six months, it had certainly been sunny. Becker stepped out of his hiding place, relief making his legs feel as wobbly as a newborn foal.
“Burton?” Becker questioned as Ryan strode through the snow and grasped his hand.
“In the nearest thing I could find to a fucking dungeon,” Ryan said. “What happened to Dobrowski? Did he make it?”
Becker nodded. “Yes, but he’s in a bad way. Did you…?” His voice faltered and he broke off.
“See Burton’s idea of fun? Yes. Lester got the clip you sent, and we found more footage on another camera. For all the PM’s a nasty, self-serving little shit, it turns out that he doesn’t like rape. I got called back in to deal with the fall-out and clear Burton’s goons out of the place. Lester’s back in charge, and we’ve spent the last month trying to get a fix on wherever your sorry arse might be.”
“Month?” Becker’s mind tried – and failed – to wrap itself around the implications of that statement. “But we’ve only been gone a week.”
“We’ll let Connor deal with the timey-wimey stuff when we get back. He reckons this anomaly’s good for another hour or so, but let’s not hang about. Where’s Dobrowski?”
By the time they got back to the basement, the small fire had died down to nothing more than embers and Ethan was slumped sideways, his skin alabaster pale in the light of the powerful rifle-mounted torches. The medic took one look at him and decided speed was of the essence. They bundled his limp form onto a stretcher, strapped him onto it and legged it to the anomaly.
The sudden warmth on the other side enveloped Becker like a comfortable duvet. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and a thermos mug of hot, sweet tea was shoved into his hands. He gulped it down, not caring how hot it was. It tasted fucking brilliant.
“The beard suits you, boss,” one the men joked.
Becker dredged up a smile from somewhere. “Thanks, I’m thinking of keeping it.”
“Still won’t make you look macho, princess.” Ethan’s stretcher was being lifted into a waiting vehicle. His face was turned to Becker, a slight grin quirking his lips, but Becker could see beyond it to the uncertainty and even fear lurking behind the surface of the words.
“Room for a little one in there?” Becker said casually, as he shuffled forwards, hugging the blanket tightly around him.
“Sure, boss,” the medic said. “We’ll have you back to the ARC in no time.”
* * * * *
Their return broke quite a few a few speed limits as the driver made good on that promise, but Becker wasn’t grumbling. After his joke at Becker’s expense, Ethan had lapsed into silence, eyes closed, hands fisted firmly in the blanket covering him. Becker stayed at his side during the swift transfer to the ARC’s well-equipped medical bay.
Danny was waiting for them there, clearly furious at being left behind to kick his heels back at base while Ryan led the expedition to – and beyond – the anomaly.
Ethan pointedly turned his face away from his brother. The look of naked pain on Danny’s face told Becker all he needed to know about the relationship between the two brothers. No matter how long they’d been apart or what Ethan was said to have done, he was still Danny’s kid brother and nothing would ever change that. At least not on Danny’s part. What Ethan felt was harder to fathom. Even after an enforced week in his company, Becker was no closer to figuring out the enigma wrapped in a sneer that was Ethan Dobrowski, or should that be Patrick Quinn? For the moment Becker found it easier to think of him in terms of his assumed name.
The hard-boiled edge was clearly no more than skin deep at the moment. When the medics started to crowd around, Becker could see the look of fear haunting Ethan’s face. The last time he’d been in the ARC he’d been brutally abused and humiliated, and it didn’t take a psychologist to work out that the memories Ethan had suppressed during the past week were now jumping up and down on the touchline, waving their arms about and yelling loudly like pushy parents at sports day.
“Do you want me to stay?” Becker asked quietly.
“Not seen enough of my arse, solder boy?”
Becker grinned. “Nah, it’s your sunny disposition that’s the big draw. Your skinny arse doesn’t do a lot for me.”
“If you’re staying, boss, just make sure you keep out of my way.” Ditzy waved him to a chair in the corner. “I’ll take a look at you later. Can you still feel all your fingers and toes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now shut the fuck up and let me see how the land lies here.”
The medic’s examination of Ethan was rapid and professional. After shooing everyone else out of the room, he told two of the guards to make sure no one came into the medical bay without his express permission, including Danny and Lester, then closed the door firmly. He then stripped the injured man’s clothes off, covering him quickly with a blanket, before starting his examination.
Ethan was thinner than Becker remembered. The dark purple bruises that Burton’s men had inflicted on him had faded to an unappetising mix of yellow colouring extending over significant areas of his torso. Ethan hissed in pain as Ditzy’s fingers probed his chest.
“A couple of cracked ribs,” the medic commented. “Bugger all I can do about them. Just be careful for the next few weeks. Painkillers will help.”
“He prescribes the good stuff,” Becker commented, more as a reminder that he was still present than anything else. “Mixes well with booze, too.”
“I didn’t hear that.” Ditzy pulled the blanket back up over Ethan’s chest. “And that wasn’t your cue to say it again, louder. OK, it’ll be painful, but can you manage to turn onto your side?”
Ethan did as he’d been asked, but failed to disguise his grunt of pain. He kept his eyes firmly closed as Ditzy’s gloved fingers probed his arse with the aid of a liberal smear of some kind of gel. The medic’s face wore the same studiously professional mask but Becker could see the flash of fury in his dark eyes as his examination revealed the damage Ethan had suffered. He’d no doubt also seen the security tapes Ryan had alluded to, so he must have been aware that Burton’s thugs had used their weapons on his patient before they’d even started on him with their cocks. And in Becker’s own experience, blood made a lousy lubricant.
“The cuts have become infected,” Ditzy said, stripping off his gloves and dropping them into a bin. “You’re torn inside and out, but there’s not a lot I can do at this stage other than let nature take its course once we’ve dealt with the infection. On top of that, you’ve escaped frostbite by the skin of your teeth. I’m going to pump you full of antibiotics and painkillers and keep you under observation for a while.” He looked across at Becker. “Your turn now.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my arse,” Becker said defensively.
“I’ll be the judge of that…”
The ghost of a grin settled on Ethan’s pale face. “Want me to stand guard, princess?”
“I know what his bloody hands are like,” Becker grumbled, but he stripped off his shirt and vest as well as his boots and socks and let the medic check him over.
“You need a shower and a decent meal,” Ditzy said, after he’d poked and prodded at Becker’s extremities for a couple of minutes. “Apart from that, you seem fine. Lester’s going to want to talk to you. Better get it over sooner rather than later.” He obviously caught Becker’s eyes straying to Ethan, because he added, “He’s staying here with me, and I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Is that good enough for you?”
It was going to have to be, but even so, Becker found it surprisingly hard to leave the man he’d once thought of as his enemy. He pulled on fresh socks from a bag of clothes that Ryan had brought for him, The black teeshirt and a warm sweater over a clean pair of black combat trousers felt great, even though a shower would have to wait until he’d seen Lester.
“You can trust him,” Becker said to Ethan. “Burton and his bunch of cunts are off the project.”
Ethan muttered something in Russian that Becker didn’t catch, but it sounded like a curse.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Becker hesitated a moment and then left the treatment room.
Ethan’s eyes had closed and he looked like he was asleep, but Becker knew better than to take anything about the man at face value.
* * * * *
“He’s not some sort of stray dog that you can just take home with you, Becker!”
“You can’t keep him locked up, sir. Not after what Burton and his men did. And, for the record, I don’t believe the man is all he’s been made out to be.”
“He tried to blow you up, or have you forgotten that?” Lester said. “And he murdered one of your men in cold blood.”
Becker hadn’t forgotten either of those incidents, but his time spent with Ethan had cast some doubt on what he’d previously believed to be true. The man had claimed not to be a murderer, but he hadn’t elaborated or provided any detailed rebuttals.
“The evidence isn’t a conclusive as we might have first through, sir,” Ryan said quietly. “Danny and I have been doing some digging and it looks like Burton might have found a convenient scapegoat for his own activities in Dobrowski. It would have suited him very well to get rid of Becker and move his own men into this part of the operation. With his influence gone, I think we might be able to get the truth out of some of his men. They’re not all as loyal to him as Burton liked to think, and not all of them liked Burton’s little sideline in recreational rape and murder.”
“So you’re telling me he’s innocent?” Lester demanded.
“I’m telling you he might be innocent,” Ryan said, not giving an inch under the force of Lester’s stare. “Our investigations are ongoing, but that’s the way it’s looking.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “All right, have it your own way for now. You can use one of the staff suites here. But I’m not letting you take him off the premises until Major Ryan is satisfied he’s not a risk. Is that understood?”
Becker shot Ryan a grateful glance and nodded to Lester. “Yes, sir, that’s understood.”
“You’re responsible for him, Becker. He’s your stray, make sure he behaves himself.”
“I’ll spread some papers on the carpet and get a litter tray.”
“See you do.” Lester shuffled some papers on his desk and then gestured regally at the door. “Don’t let me keep you, gentlemen. I’ll expect reports from you both by first thing tomorrow morning.”
Once they were safely out of earshot of Lester’s office, Becker turned to Ryan and thanked him for his support.
“Just watch your back, Becker,” Ryan said, his grey eyes serious. “I know Danny wants to believe in Dobrowski’s innocence, but it’s not a foregone conclusion yet.” Danny had followed them out of Lester’s office and the major held up a hand to forestall his rejoinder. “Don’t waste your breath, Danny. Get me the results of the forensics on that bomb. I need hard evidence, not you two going all touch-feely on me. Becker, he’s your responsibility. I don’t want him outside the ARC until we’re sure he’s in the clear.”
“Yessir,” Becker said.
“And have a shower, for God’s sake.”
Becker grinned. “Can I keep the beard?”
Ryan’s eye-roll was almost up to Lester’s standards. The major strode off down the corridor, leaving Becker alone with Danny.
“Thanks,” Danny said, his voice rough with emotion. “Thanks for keeping him alive, Becks. And thanks for believing in him.”
“I’m not sure what I believe,” Becker admitted. “But I don’t think he’s a murderer.”
* * * * *
With that thought in mind, Becker made his way back to the medical bay. “Lester says we can use one of the staff suites,” he announced. “Is he OK to be moved?”
The imperturbable medic looked up from the notes he was scribbling on. “Ask him yourself. He’s as much of a stubborn sod as you, so I doubt my opinion matters a monkey’s fuck.” Despite his words, there was laughter in the calm brown eyes that had presided over so many misadventures on the part of the anomaly response teams. It took a lot to rattle Ditzy.
“I can get you a wheelchair or something,” Becker said, knowing Ethan was listening, despite the fact that his eyes were closed.
“I can fucking walk, princess.” Ethan sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed, reaching for a pair of plain grey sweatpants that had been left for him.
The belligerence of his words was at odds with the dark eyes that looked like sunken piss-holes in snow and the obvious tremor in his hands but Becker knew better than to offer assistance as Ethan pulled on the trousers and a fleece sweater. They slowly walked through the corridors of the ARC to the lift that would take them to the small flats at the top of the building that doubled as staff accommodation when needed. Becker remained at Ethan’s side, saying nothing, but by the time the lift doors closed on them, Ethan had clearly had enough. He leaned back against the wall of the lift, eyes closed and breathing heavily.
When the lift stopped, Becker stepped out and waited for Ethan to join him. “Put your arm over my shoulder,” Becker instructed.
“Desperate for a hug, soldier boy?”
“Nope, just desperate for a shower. We both smell like a ferret’s crotch.”
To Becker’s surprise, Ethan did loop his arm over his shoulder, breath hissing between his teeth at the strain on his ribs. Becker put his arm around Ethan’s waist, taking as much of his weight as he could and they made their way to the open door of the flat. Someone had clearly been sent up to get the rooms ready. There was fresh milk in the fridge along with a stack of microwaveable ready meals and, even better, in Becker’s opinion, there was a plentiful supply of beer.
Ethan sank onto the sofa, his face now more grey than white.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable lying down?”
The glare Becker got in return for that remark would have felled a charging rhino. “Jesus, don’t you ever shut up?”
Becker grinned. “I can take a hint. I’m going for a shower. Call a search party if I’m not back in an hour.”
A quick check in both bedrooms revealed that someone had brought up the spare clothes from his locker, plus a plentiful supply of towels for each of them, and in the room intended for Ethan there were clothes of approximately the same size as well. They’d even been provided with pyjamas. His appeared to have Dalmatian puppies on. He suspected Jess had been responsible for that. Ethan’s were distinctly more sober, just a plain dark blue.
The hot water cascading over Becker’s body finally started to drive out the last lingering chill of the bleak world they’d found themselves in. His flesh soon started to turn a more healthy shade of pink, soon to turn into a less fetching imitation of a boiled lobster, but it felt so fucking good to be warm and clean that he stayed where he was a while longer, breathing in the warm citrus-scented steam.
“Are you going to hog all the hot water?” The voice from the doorway sounded amused.
Becker turned the water off, ran his hands through his hair to shake off the water and then stepped out. He’d been in the army far too long to have any concerns about nakedness. He grabbed a towel and ran it over his hair. “Be my guest.” He grabbed another towel and wandered through to his bedroom.
He heard the rustle of clothes behind him as Ethan undressed and stepped into the shower. The water started flowing again and Becker left him to it. Five minutes later, the towel wound around his waist and a can of beer in his hand, Becker put his head around the door. To his horror, he saw Ethan on his knees in the shower, thin shoulders shaking as water streamed around him.
Becker crossed the small bathroom in one long stride, wrenching the door open and reaching in to shut off the water. Ethan had obviously got as far as washing his hair and ridding his body of the accumulated sweat, dirt and the final remains of his own blood and other people’s bodily fluids before reaction had set in, but he was now beyond the stage of coherence, incapable of even one of his trade-mark jibes. For a brief moment, Becker considered calling for Ditzy, but he knew Ethan wouldn’t welcome any more intrusion, not in this state. Becker bent down and hauled the other man to his feet as gently as he could. Bundling him into a large towel, Becker steered Ethan out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
Ethan raised no objection as Becker dried him as quickly as he could, before rubbing the towel across the unruly dark hair, helping him into bed and spreading another towel over the pillow to keep it dry. Ethan’s shoulders continued to shake with dry sobs. To allow him a greater degree of privacy, Becker turned off the light in the bedroom, allowing enough of a warm glow in from the hallway to prevent the room resembling the basement they’d holed up in. Not quite how to handle the first open display of emotion he’d seen from the man, Becker did nothing more than sit on the edge of the bed, his hand on Ethan’s shoulder, waiting for the shuddering to cease.
Eventually, Ethan uncurled enough to lean on one elbow and pull the duvet up over his shoulder. He met Becker’s eyes, his expression less guarded than Becker had seen before, making him look younger and more vulnerable. More like the younger brother that Danny must still remember.
A slight smile quirked the side of Ethan’s face. “Thanks, princess. Now are you going to fetch me a beer and then keep the monsters under the bed away?”
Becker grinned and pushed Ethan’s damp hair away from his face. “I think I can manage both of those things.”
They drank the beer out of the same can, propped up on pillows, studiously ignoring the fact that they were sharing a bed, naked, neither willing to do anything to jeopardise the tentative trust they’d established between them. But much later, when Becker turned over in the night and looped his arm around Ethan’s waist, his companion moved backwards into his embrace rather than pushing him away.
Becker knew Ethan still had a long road to travel, but he also knew from his own experience that the first steps were always the hardest to take.
They’d made it back alive. The rest would wait for another day.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2014-04-13 10:49 am (UTC)And I love Ryan coming to the rescue + Becker looking after Ethan.
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Date: 2014-04-15 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 11:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-15 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 12:51 pm (UTC)*grins at “Still won’t make you look macho, princess.”*
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Date: 2014-04-15 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-15 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-15 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 05:10 pm (UTC)the memories Ethan had suppressed during the past week were now jumping up and down on the touchline, waving their arms about and yelling loudly like pushy parents at sports day.
Yes. This.
Despite his words, there was laughter in the calm brown eyes that had presided over so many misadventures on the part of the anomaly response teams. It took a lot to rattle Ditzy.
Dear Ditzy...
ferret's crotch
ROFL!
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Date: 2014-04-15 05:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-15 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 08:27 pm (UTC)Aaaawww, I loved that line. Great h/c!
I like a lot this series (a very rare pairing but you make it work very well), it's a pity that we have to wait a year for the next part, but it will always be very welcome ^_^
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Date: 2014-04-15 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-13 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-15 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2021-11-03 04:49 pm (UTC)