"It is never too late to be what you might have been."-George Eliot
"It is never too late to give up our prejudices."-Henry David Thoreau
"Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them."- Bruce Lee
May 13, 2013
This was one of the times that Sam Hanna wished he had a time machine.
As childish as it sounds, Sam wishes in this moment that he had a time machine. He would go back to the previous day when the team was being briefed about the nuclear explosion in Mexico. He would push for a Plan B that didn't involve his wife Michelle or making deals with Marcel Janvier. He'd also go back and change every word that he had ever said to Deeks.
Because now he can't as he's sitting tied to a chair, fighting the urge to pass out from the God-knows- how-many volts of electricity that have been shot through his body. It's been awhile since Sidarov had decided to torture 'the weak one' and far too long since Sam has last heard Deeks scream. The detective's ear splitting screams were just as bad to Sam as being stabbed, especially with the piss poor attitude he'd been having with the detective since he met him.
"I'm Navy straight up. Everything you do is different- the way you dress, your jokes….your hair."
"If this is about my haircut, it needs to end."
"It's not about your hair- it's about what it says about you as a person."
"So you're saying it's about my character?"
"Yeah, something like that."
He considers it to be one of the harshest things he's ever said to a person, which considering being a federal agent harassing all kinds of suspects, the bar is set pretty high. To say that to someone who's had your back for years is right up there with lying I'll make your family's life a living hell if you don't tell me what I want to know.
Sam lets out a low wheeze and struggles to catch his breath. His vision is teetering between being clear and fuzzy again and yet he can still see exactly where the detective is. When his vision is blurry, he can only see a blur of Deeks' blonde locks, his green jacket, and his blue jeans. In the few seconds where he can actually see clearly, Deeks is clear as day, sitting perfectly still in the chair in the other room. Sam can see that Deeks is unconscious and bleeding heavily from his mouth- it's one of the many things from this moment that that won't ever leave his mind, along with;
Deeks' head cocked to left ever so slightly.
The steady drops of blood falling from his mouth and nose onto his jeans.
The slow tick, tick from a clock on the wall behind Sam.
The irregular rise and fall of Deeks' chest, each one proving to Sam that he hasn't died.
And the pure silence laughing at the tiny hope in Sam's heart that they'd be rescued.
"So you are conscious again."
Sam winces when he hears Sidarov's deep Eastern European drawl suddenly come from across the room. He makes the conclusion that it's an accent he never wants to hear again. It doesn't help that Sidarov is maliciously smiling as he enters the room with the man in the black jacket, whose name Sam can't remember. It definitely doesn't help Sam's nerves when he sees Sidarov's man wipe an alarmingly amount of blood off his hands and curse in Russian, "Weak bastard."
To the left, Sidarov tilts his head slightly to the right and smirks at Sam. The SEAL stares wide eyed back like a scared child, completely unaware if Sidarov's smile is a your friend is dead smirk, your friend gave Quinn up smirk, or a I'm trying to screw with you smirk.
"I miscalculated your friend," Sidarov drawls, "He is not as weak as I thought. "
"Not….my friend," Sam wheezes, hoping to hell that it'll buy them some time. He considers even going into a long spiel about how he's been a complete ass to Deeks, but he decides against it. Sidarov already knows that Sam has enough worth to Deeks to basically run into Sidarov's grasp.
"Oh really? He gave up his weapon, jumped in a pool, and resuscitated you- I'd call that a friend. But since he is not a friend then this shouldn't be a problem." Sidarov gives a nod to his partner, who walks into the other room. The man in the black jacket appears next to Deeks and pulls out a pocket knife, holding inches away from Deeks' eyes. Sam feels his already erratic heartbeat go insane when the man in the black jacket smirks at Sam.
"Bring him in here," Sidarov calls over his shoulder, "he claims no relation to David so killing him in front of him shouldn't be a problem."
What?! Sam keeps his facial expression, but feels like his chest is about to explode when he watches Sidarov's man cut the ties around Deeks' wrists and push him forward to the ground. Deeks' arms are forced and tied behind his back. Sidarov's man then does what Sam expects him to- he drags the unconscious detective into the room and hands his collar to Sidarov. There's another nod of acknowledgement between the two men before Sidarov pulls out Deeks' Sig and presses it against Deeks' temple.
"If he is no use to anyone, he should die," Sidarov states. Sam hears the click of the safety coming off and he immediately knows that denial time is over and lying to cover your ass time has official begun. "Wait!"
Both men give him expecting looks and Sam sighs before continuing, "Friend….."Sam gaps. He leans forward and adds, "He's a dirty cop!"
Sidarov narrows his eyes and looks down to the moaning, squirming detective. He ponders for a moment before releasing his grip on Deeks' mouth and letting the detective fall to the ground in a heap. Deeks lands on his back and then rolls onto his side as he moans in pain. Sidarov takes his foot and knocks Deeks back onto his back and places his foot on his chest. With his gun still trained on Deeks, Sidarov suspiciously asks, "Are you lying to me, David?"
"I didn't get a chance…to tell you," Sam replies. He's surprised that he's able to get a somewhat decent sentence out with his lungs and chest burning as if they were on fire.
"Dirty cop?" Both Sidarov and his right hand man exchange confused looks before returning their attention back to Sam. "What do you mean?"
"He's a dirty cop that an old friend sent to back me up," Sam exhales loudly and sends a quick glare to Sidarov, "Did you want me to tell you in the middle of making this deal?"
Sidarov pauses again and looks down to Deeks, who's still in a heap on the floor. "Huh, a dirty cop. Unfortunately for you, a reliable source told me that you are an undercover agent so I have to assume that it is the same for him. You lied to me again, David."
"No….don't…."
"I should kill you both right now, but I'm feeling generous. Obviously, he means something to you so I have a proposition." Sidarov picks up Deeks by the collar again and drags him a few inches closer to where Sam gets a better view of the detective. Sam can see bruises and cuts on Deeks' face and hear that Deeks' breathing is much, much worse than he had expected. "Your cooperation in telling me the truth about Quinn in exchange for his life."
Sidarov suddenly releases Deeks' collar and lets the man fall to the floor in a heap again. He turns away and tells Sam before leaving, "I'll leave you in here with time to think."
And in a minute Sidarov and his man walk out of the room, leaving Sam tied to the chair and Deeks bloody and unconscious on the floor.
In the dark, alone.