Lean On Me

Colorless

When Riley had been asked to speak at a technology convention for the first time, his already pale face had gone completely translucent, and Ben knew that he'd be the one providing moral support this time instead of the other way around.

Inspired by Cocoa987's prompt Colorless in Colors. Warning: Angsty. Ben/Abby angst mingled with Ben Riley friendship fluff. Oh, and Abi angst! Two-Shot due to story length.

Disclaimer: I doubly do not own. The prompt is all Cocoa987's, and Riley *Sigh* and all other associated characters belong to Disney and Bruckheimer. *Sigh*

This started out as a story designed to be posted on Justin Bartha's birthday on the 21st, but sadly since I wasn't able to reach that deadline, I'd like to dedicate this fanfic to my three best NT friends on here: Jedi Pirate Jaeh, LoremIpsum, and last but not least, the girl who generously lent me the prompt for this story idea, Cocoa987. You three are so amazing! :-) I'm so thrilled to have you all as my best friends! :D

Thanks to Jaeh for helping me beta this and turn it into a work of magnificence! :-) You rock, girl! :-)

And, to Cocoa, Jaeh, and Lori, read this carefully! I have so many shout-outs to you all in here, it's practically one big homage-fest. ^^

Omnia Vincet Amor (love conquers all things) Latin Proverb

The May day dawned brisk and sharp; the yellow orb of the glowing, pulsating ball of the sun shooting spears of light through the leaves of noble firs that lined the avenue of the Gates residence, dappling the ground with golden strips of sunrise. In the doorway of the Gates mansion, Ben Gates escorted Dr. Abigail Chase outside to her little Saturn. His wife was quite pregnant as she was halfway through her third trimester, and he liked to help her as often as he could. Touching her swollen belly affectionately, Ben leaned in to give her a kiss goodbye before the woman he regarded as his sun dashed off to work to the Archives for work.

"Ich liebe dich," Ben whispered to Abigail in German, causing a smile to awaken on her face, slipping through her lips, opening them gracefully as she apprehended what was saying to her - in her own Saxony German! Teasingly, she played with her husband's hair, murmuring, "You know, Ben, there never was a man like you," as she nestled close to him.

"In your life or somebody else's?" Ben queried, lifting his eyebrows as he alluded to, tongue-in-cheek, Abigail's other disasters with men before she had finally agreed to marry him.

"No," she agreed, her face beaming, "there never was another man like you in my life, ever. But," she held one finger to his lips to still his protests, "don't go giving yourself airs about it."

Ben smiled in resignation. Oh, how I love my Abigail. Before he let her go, he dramatically pulled her close to him, her pink lips staining his as they kissed with obvious ardor. Releasing her, Ben watched as she slipped into the driver's seat behind the wheel in one fluid movement despite being pregnant. Gently placing her key into the groove, Abigail felt the car rumble beneath her as the ignition began. Pressing the gas, the young woman started off down the long gravelly path, the gangly treasure hunter chasing after her, yelling, "Abi, be safe!" In an undertone, he added, "Because I can't bear losing you."

Abigail glanced back, waving as she disappeared on the curve that lead to the road, calling back, "I will, Ben!"

The sun rose to its zenith, baking the streets and sidewalks of America's Capitol City as Abigail descended the steps of The National Archives, deep in thought. With Ben, it was always treasure, often to her consternation. Even today, Ben had been overly ecstatic, she thought, about a new lead he found connected to the inscrutability behind pg 47, which was apparently indirectly related to one of his ancestors.

Though after pondering this for a moment, the only island of stillness amongst the other tourists and workers walking up and down the steps of the Archives, the archivist of historical documents came to the conclusion that it was, once again, always this way. It had happened with the Templar Treasure and Cibola, hadn't it? And his ancestors were usually right, another thing that rattled her to no end as she remembered the fiasco behind the discovery of City of Gold.

Climbing back into her Saturn Aura, Abigail sighed, methodically putting it in reverse as she cautiously backed out into the busy DC rush-hour traffic, eager to get home. Shading her eyes briefly against the glare of the sun, she eased into her way into the inside lane. Her mind flashed back to that morning, reflecting on her interactions with her charming husband during that half-lit hour of day while the other part of her brain concentrated on driving.

Ben only thinks about treasure. A voice nagged her.

No, he doesn't. Don't you recall how lovingly he cared for you just this morning? Another voice countered indignantly, fraught with anger at this unfair accusation against the man she truly loved more than anything.

What? It was only breakfast in bed. The sinister voice shot back.

But he's so chivalrous! That's why I fell in love with him! The other voice snapped, eager to get the last word in.

One thought rose above the other voices. Why am I so discontented with Ben? He loves me more than life itself, and he's proven this to me several times, and he regards me as -

Another car skidded close to her Saturn, causing Abigail to flinch slightly, and then she resolved to ignore the voices buzzing in her head and focus on driving. The young woman was so riveted on the errant driver who'd disturbed her peace of mind, that she never saw the huge blue and white van deliberately heading strongly at her Saturn until it was too late. A hard wrench intermixed with a melting of the metal that embosomed her mingled with the combustion of the engine immediately shot her into alertness. The baby! Abigail gasped inwardly; attempting to duck low beneath the seat in hopes of protecting her child as the vehicle caught fire, spinning wildly out of control. Horrified onlookers abruptly brought their cars to a stop while the van that had rammed into her departed hastily.

Abigail, trapped in the vehicle that was veering manically out of her control, glanced up, somewhat dazed. In spite of the cloudiness fogging her view, the archivist noticed a large gray wall looming up to meet her, smiling grimly at her as the Saturn allowed itself it be lifted into its mouth. Bracing herself for the incoming collision, Abigail moaned as she tried to open the door to let herself out, pulling her hand back as fire darted alongside her arm like a snake. Inserting her foot into the recesses beneath the wheel, she placed her hands over her distended belly in one last effort to avert any harm to her child.

A thought bubbled up into her mind amid the confusion, terror and dismay she was experiencing. Ben regards me as his finest treasure. There was a sharp burst, and the woman felt the car buckle under her. Oh God, protect me - I need to tell Ben still what a treasure - such a treasure he is to me.

At that moment, something pounded against her skull, and then, mercifully, everything faded to black.

Ben lay with his head resting on his arms, exhausted after a full night's and day's research into the mystery behind page 47. Papers littered the desk and his office, and among them lay three different scraps of leather - riddles which he believed were key leads (as he'd related to Abigail) to discovering the new treasure.A cell phone jangled next to him, making Ben start, blinking his eyes groggily as he reached for the phone nearby. Inspecting the top, the treasure-protector noticed the speed-dial blurted "Peter Sadusky" in bright red letters. The tall, gangly man gasped, his eyes widening as he flipped open the device.

"Sadusky, what is it?" Ben asked, his voice tight with high-pitched fear. Could something be wrong with Riley? It was highly unusual for Sadusky to contact him personally; only matters of national importance would cause him do so. The thing was, any matter linked with Riley or his amazing wife was a matter of national importance to Ben.

"What is it?" Ben demanded, growing angry. Sadusky, over the line, noticed his emotional state, and quickly he explained what had happened.

"Ben, Dr. Chase is in the hospital -,"

"Abigail," Ben retorted, his face stiffening. "Why?"

"She's been the victim of a hit-and-run accident. She's in the ICU, and we have the whole situation under control. Agents are inspecting the crash at this moment." Sadusky went on, his carefully controlled voice betraying no modulation of anxiety or emotion.

"Don't tell me you've got the whole situation under control when my wife, my Abigail is in critical care at the hospital," Ben snarled, his eyes blazing, his entire posture echoing that of an enraged, lanky tomcat. But since he realized it would not do to ruffle the feathers of the FBI Agent any more than he often did; Ben switched tactics, his blood on fire, blistering with rage at Sadusky's official manner. The man was his friend, after all.

"Have you heard from Riley lately?" Ben inquired, attempting to keep his voice as bland as possible. "I've got to find him - tell him about Abi - I haven't seen him for a while."

"Last I checked on him, he was hard at work on another conspiracy theory book," Sadusky replied as Ben threw on a jacket and prepared to leave, having slept in his clothes the previous night. Hearing a visible distrust in the FBI agent's tone, Ben rose in defense of his friend.

"Riley's not like all those other conspiracists! He thinks rationally about these things, probably better than you do. And when he actually has found proof about a certain myth being true, he's usually right," Ben protested, referring to the Book of Secrets, or the President's Secret Book, as Riley had termed it in his autobiography of their quest, as he grabbed his keys from their shelf while pulling the heavy front door open savagely to stride outside to his car. But his phone was silent. Sadusky had ended the call after Ben's last statement, weary of the treasure-protector's belligerent manner.

"Benjamin Franklin Gates?" a nurse addressed him, looking carefully at the tall, rangy man before her, despair etched plainly on his features. His ice-blue eyes darkened to steel gray as he stared back at her anxiously. The nurse adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses to inspect him better, and then she replied gently, "I'm sorry, Mr. Gates, but you can't see your wife now – she's in the intensive care unit, and the doctors don't want to do anything to disturb her."

"But you must let me," Ben pleaded, his voice cracking slightly as his burden settled down upon him with the news that he was still unable to see Abigail – and that she was lingering in a nether world between life and death – and that doctors were doing everything to make sure she survived. "I have to tell her I love her – that she's all the treasure I ever longed for."

The desk nurse glanced up at him curiously. "In fact, Mr. Gates," she soothed in her mellow voice, "you know, when she arrived here in the ambulance, your wife was murmuring the words 'Ben dearest Ben, you have always been my Schatz I love you'." Ben glanced at her, realizing that she was implying that Abigail had been delirious when she had first arrived at the hospital. Her injuries must be much worse than he'd originally thought.

Placing her light brown hand on his shoulder, the RN sought to explain why he needed to hold off being with his wife at the moment. "Just wait until she's – Abigail – out of the ICU now," the nurse said patiently, her dark eyes focused on the agonized treasure-protector sympathetically, seeming to empathize with his predicament. "The ER doctors are meanwhile trying to do all that they can to save Abigail and the baby."

The baby! He'd entirely forgotten in his profound worry for his wife. Noticing the anguished expression misting his eyes, the practitioner tried to alleviate it.

"Why don't you take a drive around town, work off some anxiety?" she suggested. "Maybe visit a friend who you can lean on during this time?"

Sitting in his battered, ancient Sedan, Ben held his face in his hands, attempting to stanch the tears slicing down his face. His whole world had abruptly been pulled out from under his feet, leaving him desolate. Abigail couldn't be taken away from him like this! He would fight tooth and nail before he let that happen. Recovering himself, Ben directed his car onto the highway, advancing towards the direction of Riley's apartment.

Fidus Achates (Faithful Friend)

Ben, deciding that this course of action was a good plan, wearily returned to his decrepit Sedan, considering that after he sought out Riley, maybe they could both inspect the site of the accident, but then he realized that Sadusky's FBI colleagues were probably still there and wouldn't welcome his intrusion. Ben's heart lurched at the thought of witnessing his wife's Saturn turned into a smashed cage of metal, imagining her trapped in it, fearing for her life and that of their child. Perhaps it was better not to go.

Half an hour later, Ben brought his vehicle to a stop outside his friend's ground-level apartment. His best friend normally kept his various apartments at such levels due to his intense fear of heights. While they certainly didn't distress Ben Gates, for Riley it was another matter entirely, he mused, recalling a trip they'd taken to Mesa Verde where his best friend had grasped his hand the entire time they'd crawled down to see the cliff dwellings.

For this, Ben actually experienced a burst of gladness about; as it meant reaching Riley would take only a quick run up to his door. The tall, gangly man, his shock of dark hair obscuring his view due to stress intermixed with anxiety, bounded over to the simple white doorframe that blared number 13 at him, the same number as the chapter about The President's Secret Book in The Templar Treasure and Other Myths That are True. Riley must have upgraded to a new apartment, Ben assumed, as he knocked, or rather, pounded on the door. There was no answer.

"Riley?" Ben called out, uneasiness tensing his voice. "Riley!" The silence deafened him, unnerving the treasure protector as he considered the possibility that Riley wasn't home. But Riley had to be here – he just had to. Ben pounded the door again, and this time it slowly creaked open, causing the historian to recall that the doors to his friend's apartments always stuck. Cautiously, Ben stepped inside, easing his way through piles of haphazardly stacked research books, various pieces of computer equipment, and wads of rejected drafts littering the floor and the nearby solitary table.

"Riley!" Ben hissed into the air again, a slight catch in his voice. If Riley was missing too, he felt he wouldn't be able to bear it. A sigh creep out of the small room the techie joked was his "office," though in actuality it was his merely his bedroom and a voice replied, "In here, Ben." Ben became aware of footsteps padding to the door. A jangle, followed by a brief tug, and then his best friend emerged; hair tousled in disarray as usual and his bright blue eyes glimmering moistly from nights of overwork. As Ben glanced down at Riley, a flash of guilt swept over him, dismayed that he hadn't once thought to give Riles a call to see how the work on his latest book was coming along.

But if the historian had noticed his friend's raggedly appearance at a glance, Riley had meanwhile inspected his fellow accomplice-in-arms; his eyes alit with concern as his gaze searched Ben's haggard face, bloodshot eyes, and his hastily thrown-on clothing that also seemed to be rumpled as if from sleeping in them.

Something is terribly wrong, Riley noted. What could cause Ben to be like this?

Ben sank into a nearly chair, his eyes glinting with unshed tears of relief. Riley was here. And with that certainty, everything seemed brighter, somehow. Riley let himself fall gently into a medium-sized swivel chair resting amongst the rubble, his bright blue eyes burning with anxiety. The treasure-protector restlessly ran his long, supple fingers through his hair, an expression of strain that the computer expert knew well, and it disturbed him profoundly. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Ben's shoulder, endeavoring to alleviate his burden.

"It's okay, Ben," he murmured. "I'm here for you. You can lean on me." The finder of the Templar Treasure raised his face so that he saw the reflection of his eyes superimposed over Riley's own, and mused to himself, at the back of his mind that the grief had not yet numbed fully, Riley is a reflection of myself – he always has been, that's why he's stuck so closely with me through all the trials we went through to discover those Treasures of the Ancients, and yet I've never told him he's –

His thought was cut off as he noticed Riley appear to wince as realization struck him, gazing into Ben's face as he captured the anguish brimming in his face with his own. The treasure-hunter found looking into a sympathetic mirror. Taking a deep breath, he laid a hand on Riley's left shoulder, so that they were both holding each other up.

A look of pain flashed through his face as Ben dredged up Abigail's accident, how he had been unable to be with her and the loneliness and despair he tasted during that time evocated his need for companionship that he now understood he had been pushing away since Patrick and Emily had moved back to Pennsylvania once more – this time, together - a year ago. Their move had left a hole in Ben's heart that he'd never spoken to anyone about. He realized this only now as the despair of his wife's crash caught him in its snare, pulling him under, leaving him with no one to speak his fears for Abigail to, and, worst of all, he had regarded his own family as being closer to him than the young techie who'd loyally stood by him in all those fruitless searches uncovering the key to the Treasure Beyond All Imagining.

Riley seemed to be aware of Ben's train of thought, his voice fraught with worry.

"Ben," he spoke tightly," come on. Tell me what the matter is."

"Riley," declared with a sharp catch in his voice, thinking of Abi lying still and white on a hospital bed, "I need you."

At those three words, a light dimmed in Riley's face as he gradually understood Ben was probably referring to Abigail. Shadows crossed his features as he thought wistfully of how much he loved her, not that he would ever tell Ben or Abi as such; they were perfect for each other, he knew, and he refused to mar it with such a confession.

"Riley, I need you," Ben repeated intensely. "Abigail's had a bad car accident (a hit-and-run and a collision) and she's in the ICU and… and…" a sob choked him, "they won't let me see her!"

Riley's eyes narrowed as he stood up to get the keys to his Ferrari Spyder. Crossing back over to Ben, he patted him on the shoulder encouragingly as he cajoled, "Well, let's find out if we can change that then." Waggling his eyebrows, his continued dryly, "Nothing like a handsome guy like me needed to gain you some access into the room." Ben let a smile slip through at Riley's attempt cheer him up. But he noticed that in spite of his careless manner, Riley's face was edgy with fear – for him and his wife.

"It's done," Riley reported, strolling over to Ben, who sat agitatedly in a black hospital waiting chair, idly fiddling with a magazine of no vital concern to him. "Nursey Tia over there," he gestured in the direction of the front desk, "has allowed you to go in to see her now. Doctor's orders. She's out of the ICU now to rest before they complete a few more vital surgeries – but she's stabilized and Tia's related to me that it's fine for you to be with her. But, due to visitor stipulations, I have to stay behind and watch our seats."

He raised his eyebrows casually, making a joke out of it, though Ben sensed that he was inwardly rebelling against such a thing. Rising from the uncomfortable hospital chair, Ben loped over to the man thirteen years his junior to touch him gently on the shoulder and whisper a word of thanks.

"Riley, you're gold – you're a treasure. Thanks for all you did today – because, really, I'd be lost without you," he paused briefly, causing Riley to stop playing with his sleeve and glance up at him. "My brother," Ben finished, pulling Riley into a grateful hug.

"Stay gold, okay?" he added, releasing the younger man, throwing Riley a little wave before he disappeared down the hallway to see Abi. Left in the waiting room, his feet rooted to the floor, Riley's smile increased until it became megawatt. Ben called me his brother. His brother! Riley thought, jubilating inside. Seeing odd stares from the other patrons, he quickly took a seat, embarrassed.

Ben silently walked into Abigail's room, all too aware of the medical monitor examining her beeping loudly in the room. In the bed, his wife lay still, as colorless as a fresh piece of paper. Ben kneeled down beside her bed, taking her moderately warm hand in his. Bending over, he gently kissed her on the lips. The slight movement above her caused Abigail to slowly open her eyes.

"Ben?" she asked, overjoyed to see him in the midst of the agony that racked her bones hourly. "Ben, the baby's all right. I'm going to be all right," she soothed, her voice raspy from pain, as she noticed her husband's eyes brim over with tears at her condition – several broken ribs, a fractured leg, her burned and swathed in lotion bandages body, her smashed wrist, and, a long, thin bandage across the top of face, indicating that a sliver of glass had gashed it. Ben understood that such an injury would leave a scar, but to him, it did not mar her beauty – in fact, she appeared to be even lovelier to him just because she was alive. He knew she would have sacrificed her life to save their child.

"Remember the old Latin proverb, Omnia Vincet Amor?" Abi inquired of Ben, drinking in his features as he gently gazed into her eyes.

"Love Conquers All Things," Ben whispered in reply, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"And it will," Abigail responded, gripping the historian's hand with her good one. "It will," she reiterated as her husband bent down to kiss her again. Outside the doorway, Riley stood in the threshold to the room, peering in at the moving scene. Then, he set off down the elongated sterile hallway, back to the waiting room to stay there as long as he was needed.

And thus ends Part One of Lean On Me. Tune in for the second installment hopefully by early November! I am so sorry that it has taken this long, everyone! :(

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