Badge be damned, Nathan broke at least twenty traffic laws as he sped towards the church. He'd only gotten the call a couple of minutes ago, and he was already less than five minutes away from his destination. Even that was too long, though; a second would be too long for this.

He and Audrey had been investigating what looked to be another Troubled suspect in a series of assaults and murders. The particular oddity with this case had been that it was mostly known Troubled citizens being targeted; two of the six weren't on Nathan's late father's list, but he wasn't conceited or stupid enough to think that meant they couldn't be Troubled. Each and every one of them had been beaten to death, but all the injuries, though clearly done by hand, had been way more than any human should've been able to do. A Troubled attacking Troubleds. Because Haven wasn't complicated enough as it way.

He'd been investigating another lead that Vince and Dave had steered him towards when he'd gotten the call. Audrey had decided to go down to speak to Reverend Driscoll about everything. After all, it was no secret that the Reverend had it out for Haven's…special citizens. Neither had seemed like they'd be particularly dangerous, but Duke had decided to go with Audrey anyway. Nathan had thought, at the time, it was just because his boyfriend got bored too easily.

Now, though, he couldn't help wondering if Duke wasn't Troubled in some way, too, because he seemed to have an unnatural ability to sniff out trouble in even the most menial of tasks. Case and point: he'd only just finished interviewing a supposed witness – a bust, but the way – when his phone started going off. It was Audrey.

While she hadn't had a lot of time, apparently, to articulate, she'd gotten her point across very clearly. The suspect was there at the church and raising his own brand of Cain. She and Duke were in trouble, and they needed back up.

Thus the twenty miles he was going over the speed limit as he sped down the streets of Haven in his Bronco. Luckily, it was a Sunday morning, so most everyone was in church. Well, luckily in that the streets were clear. He imagined it would make confronting the suspect a whole lot trickier.

As soon as he reached the church, Nathan slammed his truck into park and leaped out, pulling his gun from its holster. Already, he could hear panicked cries, and he forced his long legs to run faster around to the back of the church where all the noise was coming from.

What he saw when he rounded the corner, was a sight he knew he would see in nightmares for years to come.

Standing in the middle of the cemetery behind the church was a massive man, taller than Nathan and easily two or three times his bulk. The man was bald, and tattoos stretched across most of the skin not covered by his muscle shirt and jeans. One of his arms was outstretched, showing off biceps bigger around than Nathan's waist.

And hanging from that outstretched arm, held by a hand on his neck, was Duke Crocker. He was still alive, clinging to the man's wrist with one of his arms; the other hung limp at his side.

Audrey was shouting at the guy, trying to talk him down, but she didn't have her gun. Nathan, having just walked in, couldn't have guessed where it was. Not that it mattered. He knew where his gun was just fine, thanks.

It was only years of training and iron-clad self control that allowed him to restrain his trigger finger long enough to call out his warning. "Let him go," he commanded, his voice strong enough to carry across the yard as he ran to close the distance. He stopped with only a few yards between them; at this distance, he wouldn't miss. Not a target that big.

The man looked at him. "This town is riddled with sin and filth; it needs to be cleansed. I am cleansing it," said the beast.

"I said put him down, or I will shoot. This is your last warning," Nathan said, and he meant it. Duke's struggles had started to wane, his face gone red from lack of oxygen.

In his head, Nathan counted to five. At the end of the count, when Duke was still suspended in the air, he fulfilled his promise. Bang! Straight through the head, and in an instant, the man crumpled to the ground. Duke went with him, dropping a few feet away to the ground he'd been held over.

Instinct begged Nathan to run to Duke, to make sure he was okay, but he couldn't do that. He had to make sure the guy was dead, first, or else he had to call an ambulance. Audrey was running towards him too, though, so Nathan managed to force himself to see to the beast first.

Sure enough, it had been a kill shot, clean through one side of his head and out through the other. On any other day, he would've been proud. Today, though—

"He's not breathing!" Audrey shouted, snapping Nathan's attention over to where she sat crouched over Duke's body. She'd turned him over onto his back, and sure enough, Nathan couldn't see his chest rising or falling.

Nathan was by them in an instant, dropping to his knees on Duke's other side. Wisely, Audrey leaned back to give him room as Nathan leaned down and put his ear next to Duke's mouth and nose.

Nothing.

He pressed two fingers to the side of Duke's neck, feeling for the pulse he prayed to find. Relief surged through him when he felt a weak thud against his fingertips, followed by another. He had a pulse, but it was weak and slow. He wasn't breathing, though, and that was something Nathan had to fix.

Tilting Duke's head back to try to open up his airway, Nathan took in a breath and pressed his lips to Duke's. Somewhere in the back of his head, he registered some gasps echoing through the crowd of church-going onlookers, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the man lying still on the ground before him.

Another breath, and still nothing.

Another. Nothing.

Another. Nothing.

Another. Noth—a gasp. Eyes flying open and lips parting around a frantic, gulping breath, Duke lurched forward, rolling over onto his side as he started to cough. The coughs led to gags, and Duke started to throw up in the grass.

To keep his boyfriend from falling face-first in his own sick, Nathan slipped an arm under his neck and reached a hand around to his chest to hold him on his side. He hadn't quite managed to roll over all the way, and Nathan was just hoping to keep him angled enough that he wouldn't inhale any of it and aspirate.

"It's okay," he told Duke. "It's okay, just catch your breath." Nathan looked up to see Audrey on her phone. No doubt she was calling in some back-up and some EMS support. Probably the coroner, too. He didn't care about that, though.

As Duke finally ran out of stomach acid to throw up, Nathan rolled him back over to his back. It was only then that Nathan noticed the gash running just over his left eyebrow. The grimace on Duke's face pulled at it, and a new stream of blood trickled down it to join the sweat and dirt. Duke looked to be in agony, one arm clutching at his chest. The other, just as before, didn't move, and he noticed the same seemed to be the case with his leg. His right leg was bent, the heel of his boot grinding into the grass while the other stayed stretched out. Nathan was no doctor, but he didn't like the angle of his knee.

It wasn't the time to worry about that now, though. Right now, he had to make sure that Duke didn't go into shock while they waited for the paramedics. To do that, he had to get him talking. "Duke," he started, but Duke didn't even open his eyes. "Come on, baby, I need you to look at me."

When Duke didn't open his eyes still, Nathan frowned. He hated to do it, but he reached up a hand and slapped Duke's cheek. Not too hard, but enough to get his attention. Sure enough, those brown eyes opened and he found himself staring into two bloodshot, rapidly-darkening hazel eyes. He was still relieved.

"Good, Duke. That's good. I need you to tell me where you're hurt now," he said. He spoke quickly, but he tried to keep his voice calm. Hopefully, Duke didn't notice his hands shaking as he cradled the smaller man against his chest.

Duke let out a weak chuckle, which only seemed to make the pain worse. The chuckle morphed into a moan of pain as he clenched his eyes shut again, his good leg kicking against the grass. "So needy," he choked out. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but then Nathan guessed nearly being strangled could do that to a person.

Nathan forced a laugh of his own. "Yeah, that's me. Needy. I've got to know, though, Duke, so I can tell the paramedics when they get here."

Nathan realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. Duke and hospitals of any sort were not a happy combination, mostly on Duke's side. Duke told him once about how he'd had to watch his mother waste away in one of those hospitals, and how ever since, he'd been afraid of them. He guessed it made sense; all Duke saw when he saw a hospital was a place of dying, not a place of healing.

Duke's reaction wasn't in quite so many words. The smuggler's eyes widened, and he started trying to scramble up, grabbing onto Nathan's jacket with his good hand for purchase.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Nathan said quickly, tightening his hold on his boyfriend. He was careful not to hold him too tight, though, since he didn't know how badly Duke had been beaten up before he'd shown up. He also grabbed hold of the hand Duke had fisted around his jacket and eased the fingers away, eliminating Duke's means of pulling himself up. As Duke let out a strained protest, Nathan took to carding a hand through his hair. "I know, baby. I know you don't want to go, but you have to. You've probably got a concussion and God knows what else."

"I'm fine," Duke rasped urgently. "No doctors."

Clearly, this was upsetting Duke, which in turn was making him breathe faster, which in turn was making him turn paler. Nathan wondered if maybe he'd broken some ribs. Regardless, he needed to calm him down. That meant getting his mind of the impending threat of doctors. "Don't worry about that now, okay?" he said. "Just try to focus on taking deep breaths for me."

"Can't," was Duke's breathless response. "Burns."

"Your lungs?" Nathan asked. He didn't like the sound of that.

But Duke shook his head. "Stomach," he said.

At first, Nathan was confused. Then, he looked down and knew exactly what Duke was talking about. On his side, down by his right hip, was a rapidly-spreading spot of red on his otherwise white t-shirt and even down on his khaki jeans. From the looks of it, it was some sort of knife wound, and it looked pretty bad. More blood wept from it with each breath Duke took, and Nathan couldn't believe he hadn't seen it sooner.

"Audrey!" he called, and his partner came running over, kneeling down across from him. "I need your shirt or a blazer or something else to stop the bleeding." Audrey looked confused at first, but then looked down to where Nathan's hand was hovering. Her eyes widened at that, and she quickly unfastened the buttons on her dress shirt. In record time, she slid it off, leaving her in her tank top while she passed it over to Nathan.

Adjusting his hold on his boyfriend so that he had one hand cradling his shoulders and neck and the other free, Nathan forced a smile. "I'm not gonna lie, Duke; this is gonna hurt, but I need you to bear with me, okay?"

Duke's lip quivered at the thought of more pain. "What're you gonna—" Duke's question was cut short as Nathan pressed the balled-up shirt against his side. The younger man let out a choked cry before he managed to grit his teeth around it, writhing in Nathan's lap. He bit his lip, muffling the scream breaking from his aching throat.

Nathan pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's sweat-slicked brow. "Sorry, baby," he said quickly. "I'm sorry, but I had to stop the bleeding. You're okay, now, all right? You're okay."

But he wasn't. Nathan knew it, and Duke knew it, too. Whatever had happened, Duke was seriously hurt. He was crying, now, and for Duke to cry, Nathan knew it had to be bad.

Mercifully, the sound of sirens started to grow in volume until they were nearly deafening. "They're here," Audrey said, pushing herself to her feet. She would fill everyone in; Nathan had his hands full with Duke.

"Help's here," Nathan told his boyfriend. "They'll get you some really great pain meds and when you wake up, you'll be back to your swashbuckling like a real pirate."

"Now I know I'm fucked," Duke gritted out. "Calling me a pirate."

"You're gonna be fine," Nathan insisted.

Duke let out another soft, choking laugh. "Don't feel fine," he said.

As he spoke, Nathan glanced down at the bloody wound on his side. Blood was still seeping steadily through the fabric, so he applied more pressure. The added pressure brought forth a cry from Duke who instinctively tried to shift away from Nathan's hand. Nathan held him firm, though, as Duke let out the most pitiful whimpers he'd ever heard.

"Don't," he choked out. "Don't do that again."

Nathan nodded and adjusted his grip on Duke. He wouldn't say he wouldn't do it again; he wouldn't lie. Instead, he held him a little closer and tried to keep him calm. "Just hang tight for me for a few more seconds, Duke. You're gonna be okay."

Right about then, though, the paramedics decided to show up. Audrey came before them, dropping down in front of Nathan.

"They're here, Nathan," she said, and then moved to the side so that the paramedics could lay out a stretcher beside Duke. Duke saw it, and his eyes went wide.

"No, no, no," Duke said, grabbing onto Nathan's upper arm with his good hand and trying to get away from the paramedics as they reached for him. "Nathan, no." He didn't care how much pain he was in; he wasn't going to the goddamn hospital.

Too bad no one else agreed with him. As the paramedics got hold of his long legs, Nathan helped them move him over onto the stretcher. The movement brought another barely-concealed scream from between Duke's clenched teeth, and for a moment, he didn't fight back. It wasn't until they tried to secure the bands around his neck that Duke started to put up a fight.

The feeling of something around his neck, of choking, made Duke gasp and try to push the paramedics' hands away. There were two of them, though, plus one Nathan, and he only had one arm to use. The other hurt too bad at the shoulder and was too numb at the fingers to be any good.

"It's just going to hold your head steady," one of the paramedics – a middle-aged blonde woman with her hair in a tight bun – explained to him as he twisted his head. His neck hurt, he realized.

"Can't breathe," he choked out, and to his alarm, he knew he really couldn't. He tried to lean his head back, trying to draw in a better breath, but it wasn't working. He was suffocating, and with each breath he was unable to take in, it got worse.

Nathan watched as panic spread on Duke's face. His chest jumped up and down impossibly fast like he was having to struggle to catch his breath, and he was trying to grab at the straps holding his head and neck to the brace on the stretcher.

"Panic attack," said the other paramedic succinctly. "We get them all the time."

Yeah, well it wasn't Duke all the time. Resisting the urge to punch the callous EMT in the face, Nathan instead turned his attention to his boyfriend. "Duke, you're okay, just catch your breath," he told him.

The first EMT, the nicer one, also chimed in. "Come on, honey, just breathe with me. In, out. In, out." The woman took overdramatized breaths as she spoke and Nathan found himself unintentionally breathing with her. It wasn't working for Duke, though. "Charley, get the oxygen," she commanded. The second EMT – the jackass – turned and pulled open the bag they'd brought with him, pulling out a small tank and mask. In a matter of seconds, he had the whole thing assembled, and handed the mask to the woman who pressed it over Duke's face.

That didn't exactly calm him, it seemed. He went from trying to undo the straps on the stretcher to trying to push the mask away. Nathan saw Jackass going for him, and beat him to the punch, intercepting Duke's hand and pulling it against his chest as he rested a hand on Duke's head. "Take it easy, Duke. Just take it easy."

And slowly, surely, Duke's breathing started to slow. His eyes stayed wide open, he continued to twist and writhe on the stretcher, but the steady puff of fog against the plastic of the mask proved that he was breathing a little easier.

It picked up a little as the EMT's lifted the stretcher, but Nathan held his hand firm. "Audrey," he called, "I'm going with him."

She nodded. "Go. I've got things here. Keep me posted."

As they loaded Duke into the ambulance, though, Jackass (Charles) held up a hand. "Only family can ride in the ambulance."

Nathan stared the shorter man down. He was riding in that ambulance, if he had to hijack the damn thing himself. "I'm his next of kin, his emergency contact, and without me, chances are he'll do everything he possibly can to get loose. You really want to play that card with me?"

Jackass looked at the nice lady, who nodded, and he wisely stepped out of the way, allowing Nathan to climb into the ambulance and sit beside Duke. The younger man was watching him with wide eyes, his chest heaving deeply.

"Don't have…to come," Duke said hoarsely between straining breaths.

But Nathan just smiled and took Duke's hand back in his. "Yeah," he said. "I do."