Disclaimers: I don't own them. I wish I did, but sadly I accept this is
just fan fiction.
Warnings: Please read this. This story is going to be dark right from the beginning. I rated it R for violence, trauma, and memories of childhood abuse. This really isn't set at any particular time in the show. I would love to have your thoughts on it, but please take the warnings seriously.
Collision Course chapter 1
"Where in the Hell is John?" Bailey demands as he checks his watch again. "I know he's been late before, but this is ridiculous."
The other members of the team look at each other with questions in their eyes. Bailey sounded more worried than ticked off and that wasn't a good sign. "Any luck reaching him on his cell?" Bailey asks George who shakes his head. "Okay, anyone have any idea where he went after he left here last night?"
"He didn't mention anything in particular." Grace offers. "Actually, he didn't even mention having a date, which was a little odd."
"Try his house phone again." Bailey growls as Sam cocks an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I know he's a couple of hours late, but maybe he has a good excuse?" Sam offers, trying to keep her own concern at bay. Even flamboyant playboy John Grant would never be this late without calling, unless he couldn't get to a phone.
"Bailey, there is no answer at his house line either. I've paged him a dozen times, something is wrong." George announces, forcing himself to say what everyone else is thinking.
"I'm going to check out his house." Sam offers as Bailey nods in agreement. "You coming with me?"
"Yeah, George, get his phone records, home and cell. I want to know whom he called and who called him." Grabbing his coat, he announces to the room. " Grace, if you have some time, can you help him? If John shows up unharmed, great, keep him here so I can kill him."
"You're concerned." Sam says knowingly as they drive towards John's apartment. Bailey is behind the wheel and is tapping his finger impatiently on the steering wheel.
"This isn't like him. Even if he picked up two strippers and got rip- roaring drunk last night, he would have showed up, looking like Hell. At the very least he would have called. Something in my gut says he's in trouble." Bailey pulls into the driveway and sees John's car still parked there. "Okay, if he is inside and the alarm clock is going off, call in back up. I'm going to be arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent." They emerge from the car and he feels his stomach tighten as they reach John's car. He looks over to Sam who closes her eyes and shudders.
"What?" He demands.
"I'm not sure yet. Let's get inside." She whispers as they make their way to the apartment. Banging loudly they receive no answer and Bailey kicks in the door. "Bailey, he's going to make you pay for that."
"I doubt it." Bailey mumbles as they look around the apartment. The place is eerily quiet. No TV on, the fridge door is opened, two beers on the table, opened, but barely touched. Sam touches the beer bottle and feels a cold chill run up her spine.
"He left...by force." She manages to say as Bailey calls in for more police to arrive at the scene. Entering the bedroom, he finds the bed untouched, John's work clothes tossed in the corner of the room, nothing else looks out of place. Sam is in the bathroom and looking around she notices that the shower is dry and the bathroom looks pretty neat for a bachelor. In fact, it looks too neat. She hears the sirens approaching and walks out of the bathroom nearly running into Bailey in the short corridor between the rooms. "He left here last night. I think someone cleaned up the place. John doesn't strike me as the overly neat type."
"His bedroom was pretty tidy too." Bailey admits as he answers his ringing cell phone. "Malone here. What? Okay we're on our way."
"Someone dropped off a parcel for us. In it has a note in John's handwriting stating he's left town and doesn't plan on coming back soon. We need to check this out."
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John closes his eyes as he hears the door open hoping his abductor will think he's asleep. No such luck when he feels his hair pulled tightly so that his face is lifted to meet the angry man's gaze. "You ready to talk?"
"Sure." John grinds out. "How's the weather?" He grunts when the man strikes him hard across his already abused face. This has been going on for hours. The man comes in, demands answers about his Father, he tries to explain he has none, and the beatings continue. Surely a concussion should be near soon. Blacking out seems like a pretty nice thing to look forward to at this point. "Look, I don't have any information on my old man. I told you I haven't seen him since I was a kid."
"Well, that is going to make this Hell for you. He took my family away from me and now you are going to have to pay for it." Striking John again the bigger man rises up from the bed. "I've done my research on you. You seem to really like the ladies. How about that pretty blonde that works with you? Samantha. I bet she'd have some fun with us, don't you think?" The dark haired guy laughs wickedly as John yanks against the cuffs and screams.
"Son of a Bitch. Stay away from her." The hard punches to his ribs take his breath away as his captor continues to bait and taunt him.
"Did you used to beg that way for your Mom? When the old man was going to hit her, did you plead for someone to leave her alone?" John looks up at the ceiling, attempting to tune him out.
"Wait, he didn't hit her, right? It was you. He used to kick the crap out of you, until you ended up in the hospital. I wonder how long before you beg me to stop?" When all he receives is silence, the man delivers more punches to the agent's stomach, concentrating on his rib cage. "Hurt much? Your Father ordered the death of my kid brother because he couldn't pay his debts to him. Then he took out my old man when he couldn't pay the money either. I only escaped because I ran. I hate running." Landing another volley of punches to his captive he smiles cruelly. "I came out here though once I spent some time discovering Patrick's family line. Imagine my surprise to find out, he has a son too. You think he will come and get you?"
"Don't." John barely manages to say. "Don't bring him here."
"Why? Don't you want to see your Daddy? Have a nice reunion. Maybe he can teach me how to make you beg." Grabbing a handful of the agent's hair, he forces him within inches of his face. "I am going to make you beg, O'Doyle. I will make you beg and plead, except it won't be for me to stop. It will be for me to kill you."
"My name's Grant." Is all John says before being slammed against the headboard of the bed. He fights off the memories of his childhood and tries to push past the pain. I can do this. The team will find me and I will take this Son of a Bitch out myself. When the man unbuckles his belt, John feels the nausea hit him. No, please God. Don't let him even think about it.
Seeing the man turn pale, his captor lets out a laugh. "Don't worry boy. I don't plan on that...at least not right now. I'm thinking we have a failure to communicate and since you don't want to talk about your Father, maybe I can make you remember him better by reminding you of those old lessons." Folding the the black leather belt around his hand twice, he looks down at the agent who is staring at him with glaring blue eyes. "Is this what Dad used on you? Hmmm? If not you might want to speak up." When he gets no answer he brings the leather down across John's exposed chest. He'd cut the shirt off of him once he had him cuffed to the bed. The instant red mark falls across the bruising of the rib cage and he smiles at the coloring. "You mark easy, bet that means you're going to beg soon."
hr
"Any prints from the package?" Bailey demands again, staring at the letter. "Obviously John didn't drop it off himself and he hasn't been gone long enough to have had it mailed. What about phone records?"
"Nothing." George groans as he continues to type into his computer. "A lot of calls, but mostly to women. He received a call from a pay phone about seven-thirty last night. It was short. Maybe 30 seconds, barely enough time to talk."
"30 seconds is plenty of time to check to make sure someone is answering. Home or Cell?" Sam asks, her mind still wrapping around what she saw at the scene and letter she's read nearly 2 dozen times. He has to be sending us some kind of clue. I mean, why would the kidnapper send just a note like this? No ransom demands. No sign of a struggle at the house. John let the person in and left with him. For him to have let him in that means he knew him.
"John knows a lot of people." Bailey offers. "Could a woman have been sent to take him?"
"No, I don't think so. You said he didn't mention a date right? He probably didn't expect anyone showing up. He probably convinced the person to let him write the note so that there wouldn't be suspicion. In fact, he probably even told the guy to make sure he cleaned up the place, knowing it would give us the sign something was wrong. Our best bet is going to be prints." Sam informs them as she re reads the letter.
"Sorry guys, I have to take a break from work for a little bit. Something has come up with the family unexpectedly. John." Sam looks up at Bailey.
"Something has come up with the family? That sounds odd. John doesn't have any family except his Father who he hasn't seen in years. I think he's telling us it has something to do with that."
"Okay, we need all the information we have on John's father and his associates. Anyone who might have a grudge against him based on his family's business. George, were any calls made to his cell phone or from it say 8pm on?" Sam asks.
"Yeah, one call...to Bailey." George replies. "It just showed up. He called your home number, maybe you should check for a message."
Bailey immediately dials his home number and checks the messages. "Bailey, its John. Look, I Can't..Hey Man, just chill I need to break my date..." The message ends and Bailey hangs up. "I wasn't home. Dammit, I never checked the messages last night because I got in so late. It never even occurred to me because it wasn't to my cell. All this time wasted."
"This isn't your fault." Sam informs him. "Okay, so we know it's a guy who took him and John was trying to get a message out pretty early on. What was the exact time of the call?"
"9:15." George answers. "Wait, I think we got something. Someone has been hacking into John's personnel file. I can trace the computer that was used."
"Hurry." Bailey and Sam say in unison.
hr He's been rolled over and stares at the headboard, trying to ignore the pain searing through his body. Again and again the belt falls as the voice taunts him. "You're worthless. Some Detective, you just let me into your house. You wanted to be taken. I think you know you need this lesson." John tries to tune the voice out and close his eyes, but when he does he can see and hear his father.
"No son of mine will be a wimp. You will learn to be a man if I have to kick it into you my self." The feel of his father's hard shoes against his ribs as he cowered on the floor. To scared to even try and get away. His Mother coming in to find her teenage boy is being kicked and yelled at. "Worthless, you're worthless Johnny." His father had yelled before his Mother could stop it.
"Worthless, Johnny." The kidnapper screams as he continues to reign down slaps of the leather against the battered flesh. Blood trickles down his captive's back and he can hear the sobs that are muffled. "Let it out, come on. Beg for it."
I will not beg. John tells himself over and over. He cried to his Father, begged him to stop and vowed he would never beg for anything again. Not after his Mother had to run with him and then she died. I will not beg. Be a man. He tells himself as he tries to hold the agony in. The tears are falling and he can do nothing about it. No matter how hard he fights to keep them at bay, the pain is overwhelming and to his horror he hears the words come out of his mouth in gasping sobs. "Please! Stop, no more, Please."
"Please what?" The abuser yells as he continues the thrashing, beating him harder than before. He is working himself into a frenzy. The sobs, the pleas, music to his ears. He broke him. I broke O'Doyle and now I get to kill him.
"Please, stop. I will tell you anything you want to know." John begs, sobs wracking his body, as the pain grows stronger. He will do anything, anything to end this.
"I want to know where to send your head once I kill you." The man taunts as he drops the belt and kneels down by the bedside, smiling when John turns his tear-streaked face away. "Your father will need proof that payment has been received."
"Payment?" He chokes out.
"Yeah, I figure one dead son will have to be worth my dead father and brother." He looks down at the blood on the bed and sighs. "You really made a mess. Bad Johnny. Very very bad."
"Kill me already." John growls through his pain. "If you really want me dead, just kill me."
"I told you that you'd end up begging for death, but no. Not yet. I'm not finished with you. I don't think I got all that's worth out of you yet." He stands back up and reaches for John's hair, tugging it sharply. "I think I can do a few other things to you that might make you wish for death too." Letting him go he begins to rub at the crotch of his pants. "I got something real special for you, O'Doyle."
"No." John says roughly. "I won't let you." He struggles against the cuffs, ignoring the pain in his body. "Don't do this." When the guys continues to leer at him, the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. "Please, don't do this. Just kill me. Kill me, Please." John begs as he feels the man's finger tips trace over a particularly painful welt.
"Come on, don't you want to have some fun?" The man whispers just before the door to the one room apartment is kicked in and agents storm the place, Bailey is the first in and his stomach lurches when he sees the man hovering over John, Leering at the younger man. The condition of his friend and partner sends his temper flaring into over drive. Blood is splattered on the sheets and John is wearing nothing but some boxers. His back, legs, every inch of flesh that Bailey can see has been beaten and abused. Holding the gun on the assailant, he yells. "Step away from the bed and drop to your knees."
Once the man has been lead away, Bailey orders for an ambulance as he rushes to John's side. "It's going to be okay."
"What took you so long?" John mumbles as he tries to hide his tear stained face, unable to meet Bailey's concerned gaze. His hands drop limply against the bed as the cuffs are taken off and he tries to get up only to have Bailey tell him to stop.
"You need to wait for the ambulance." Bailey informs him.
"I need to get dressed." John mumbles. "No one else from the team is here, right?"
"They are outside." Bailey informs him. "Sam...
"Keep them out!" John demands, jumping up from the bed, ignoring his pain. When he sees Bailey turn away, looking nauseated, he laughs. "See? You can't even stomach it. Hope you weren't hoping the front side would look better. I don't want any of them in here. He looks around for his jeans and hissing through the pain, he pulls them on over his boxers and then sees his ripped shirt and closes his eyes. "You want to help? Tell me this JackAss has a clean shirt in this place."
"John." Bailey says as the younger man pushes past him, wincing as he walks. He grabs a t-shirt that's at least two sizes to big and pulls it over his bloodied body, grimacing when it hits his battered flesh. "John, you have to go to the hospital."
"I'm fine. Just some flesh wounds." John growls, his anger beginning to boil over. "Stop looking at me like that. I don't need your concern or sympathy. I was the idiot who let him take me. I got what I deserved, it won't happen again."
"The ambulance is here." Sam says gently as she enters the room. She immediately sees the blood stains forming on John's clothes and feels her stomach turn. She heard what he just said and realizes that the physical trauma is probably the least of their problems. John actually thinks he deserved this. "I can ride with you if you want."
"I am fine." John lies. "I don't need a Doctor or a Shrink. I just want to get back to work. I'll fill out the police report myself." When he attempts to walk, he feels his knees weaken and grabs on to the wall for support. When she is immediately at his side, he wants to crawl into a hole and die. Samantha is seeing him being weak. Bailey saw everything. They will all know how worthless he really is. "I'm fine." He snaps angrily, pissed off when he can't push her or Bailey away as they try to lead him out of the room. "Get your hands off of me." He growls. "You want me to go to the hospital? Fine. I walk out of here on my own and I ride by myself. Sam, give me a minute with Bailey." When Sam reluctantly leaves his side and he is standing on his own again, he says to his boss. "One word about what that Bastard tried to do to me, and I swear to you.." He grimaces as the pain hits him again.
"John, you need to go to the hospital. We can talk about it in the ambulance." Bailey offers, determined to get the younger agent into the ambulance if he has to carry him there himself. "You're bleeding through your clothes. Come on. You know the faster we get into the ambulance the faster you can demand to be released into your own care."
"You aren't going to drop this are you?" John says in a shallow voice. "Fine, let's go. No one is to know, Bailey. It would have never happened, I wouldn't have let it."
"John, it's going to be okay." Bailey replies as he watches the younger man make it to the ambulance and nearly fall to his knees in agony as he attempts to step inside. He shakes off the EMT's offer of help and pulls himself in. Never even making eye contact with Sam, Grace or George. He doesn't even look at Bailey when his boss climbs in beside him. Lying on his side on the stretcher, he just stares at the floor, trying to push all his memories, old and new, away. If they hadn't gotten there when they did...He shudders to think about what he would have done to attempt to keep the rape from happening. What could I have done? I was cuffed and helpless, hand cuffed with my own set. I bet everyone will get a kick out of that. Tough John Grant stupid enough to get trapped with his own hand cuffs.
"Nobody is to know." John demands again.
"You have to deal with this, John. Obviously some very bad things.." Bailey watches as John begins to hum and tune him out. "John? John? Det. Grant!" He finally says, watching as John snaps his head to look at him. "You have to deal with this."
"I am dealing with it." John answers calmly. "I'll type the report myself. It didn't happen, Bailey. He didn't do anything to me except knock me around a little and that's what happens to people who talk to strangers' right?" The comment is meant as a joke, but he can see it falls on deaf ears. "I am going to have enough psycho babble coming from Sam; I don't need it from you. Just let it go, okay. I said I was fine. It's not like he shot me or anything."
"He just beat the Hell out of you." Bailey grumbles angrily as he looks down at the blood soaked jeans and t-shirt. "You may have more damage than you even realize."
"Naa A few broken ribs and some surface wounds." John replies calmly. "I'll be out in twenty minutes and have the report filed on time. Won't that be nice for change? Looks like we're here, you guys can leave now. I don't want anyone waiting around at the hospital."
"You know that's not going to happen." Bailey assures him. "We're staying until we know you're okay."
"I said I didn't want anyone here and I'm well over the age of 21, so listen to me." John growls as the ambulance door opens. He tries to rise from the stretcher and gives in to lying back down when the pain becomes too much. The EMT's rush him into the ER as Bailey stands by the entrance waiting for Sam, Grace and George. It's only a short wait as they quickly approach.
"How is he?" George asks as the team makes it to the waiting room. Bailey takes the forms from the admitting nurse and starts to fill it out.
"He doesn't want any of us here." Bailey announces, still looking down at the form. "Anyone know who his next of kin should be?"
"One of us." Sam answers. When she sees Bailey put his own name down, she hides a smile. He is in protective Father mode now and the guy who did this will be a lot better off if Bailey stays at the hospital. "Did he tell you anything? He wasn't.."
"No." Bailey snaps and then looks at her apologetically. "Sorry, I guess it's sort of hitting me. He basically says he's fine, doesn't want to talk about it and refuses to allow anyone to help him. He's also placing the blame on himself."
"He's in shock." Sam assures him. "His shell is going to break once everything hits him and then he will need us." Taking Bailey's hand in her own, she squeezes. "We're all going to need each other. John is a part of this team and when one of us is hurting, we all feel it. I'm here if you need to talk."
"I think he's going to need you more, Sam. If John starts to unravel, he's going to have a Hell of a time trusting anyone but you to talk to. Are you going to be able to handle it? You're personally involved." Bailey warns her.
"You went through that door first, knowing you were personally involved. Made yourself next of kin, and yet, you ask if I'm going to be able to handle it? I'm trained to do this, Bailey. Just like you were trained to go through that door. You don't need to worry about me, let's just keep the focus on John, okay?" Sam informs him.
Warnings: Please read this. This story is going to be dark right from the beginning. I rated it R for violence, trauma, and memories of childhood abuse. This really isn't set at any particular time in the show. I would love to have your thoughts on it, but please take the warnings seriously.
Collision Course chapter 1
"Where in the Hell is John?" Bailey demands as he checks his watch again. "I know he's been late before, but this is ridiculous."
The other members of the team look at each other with questions in their eyes. Bailey sounded more worried than ticked off and that wasn't a good sign. "Any luck reaching him on his cell?" Bailey asks George who shakes his head. "Okay, anyone have any idea where he went after he left here last night?"
"He didn't mention anything in particular." Grace offers. "Actually, he didn't even mention having a date, which was a little odd."
"Try his house phone again." Bailey growls as Sam cocks an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I know he's a couple of hours late, but maybe he has a good excuse?" Sam offers, trying to keep her own concern at bay. Even flamboyant playboy John Grant would never be this late without calling, unless he couldn't get to a phone.
"Bailey, there is no answer at his house line either. I've paged him a dozen times, something is wrong." George announces, forcing himself to say what everyone else is thinking.
"I'm going to check out his house." Sam offers as Bailey nods in agreement. "You coming with me?"
"Yeah, George, get his phone records, home and cell. I want to know whom he called and who called him." Grabbing his coat, he announces to the room. " Grace, if you have some time, can you help him? If John shows up unharmed, great, keep him here so I can kill him."
"You're concerned." Sam says knowingly as they drive towards John's apartment. Bailey is behind the wheel and is tapping his finger impatiently on the steering wheel.
"This isn't like him. Even if he picked up two strippers and got rip- roaring drunk last night, he would have showed up, looking like Hell. At the very least he would have called. Something in my gut says he's in trouble." Bailey pulls into the driveway and sees John's car still parked there. "Okay, if he is inside and the alarm clock is going off, call in back up. I'm going to be arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent." They emerge from the car and he feels his stomach tighten as they reach John's car. He looks over to Sam who closes her eyes and shudders.
"What?" He demands.
"I'm not sure yet. Let's get inside." She whispers as they make their way to the apartment. Banging loudly they receive no answer and Bailey kicks in the door. "Bailey, he's going to make you pay for that."
"I doubt it." Bailey mumbles as they look around the apartment. The place is eerily quiet. No TV on, the fridge door is opened, two beers on the table, opened, but barely touched. Sam touches the beer bottle and feels a cold chill run up her spine.
"He left...by force." She manages to say as Bailey calls in for more police to arrive at the scene. Entering the bedroom, he finds the bed untouched, John's work clothes tossed in the corner of the room, nothing else looks out of place. Sam is in the bathroom and looking around she notices that the shower is dry and the bathroom looks pretty neat for a bachelor. In fact, it looks too neat. She hears the sirens approaching and walks out of the bathroom nearly running into Bailey in the short corridor between the rooms. "He left here last night. I think someone cleaned up the place. John doesn't strike me as the overly neat type."
"His bedroom was pretty tidy too." Bailey admits as he answers his ringing cell phone. "Malone here. What? Okay we're on our way."
"Someone dropped off a parcel for us. In it has a note in John's handwriting stating he's left town and doesn't plan on coming back soon. We need to check this out."
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John closes his eyes as he hears the door open hoping his abductor will think he's asleep. No such luck when he feels his hair pulled tightly so that his face is lifted to meet the angry man's gaze. "You ready to talk?"
"Sure." John grinds out. "How's the weather?" He grunts when the man strikes him hard across his already abused face. This has been going on for hours. The man comes in, demands answers about his Father, he tries to explain he has none, and the beatings continue. Surely a concussion should be near soon. Blacking out seems like a pretty nice thing to look forward to at this point. "Look, I don't have any information on my old man. I told you I haven't seen him since I was a kid."
"Well, that is going to make this Hell for you. He took my family away from me and now you are going to have to pay for it." Striking John again the bigger man rises up from the bed. "I've done my research on you. You seem to really like the ladies. How about that pretty blonde that works with you? Samantha. I bet she'd have some fun with us, don't you think?" The dark haired guy laughs wickedly as John yanks against the cuffs and screams.
"Son of a Bitch. Stay away from her." The hard punches to his ribs take his breath away as his captor continues to bait and taunt him.
"Did you used to beg that way for your Mom? When the old man was going to hit her, did you plead for someone to leave her alone?" John looks up at the ceiling, attempting to tune him out.
"Wait, he didn't hit her, right? It was you. He used to kick the crap out of you, until you ended up in the hospital. I wonder how long before you beg me to stop?" When all he receives is silence, the man delivers more punches to the agent's stomach, concentrating on his rib cage. "Hurt much? Your Father ordered the death of my kid brother because he couldn't pay his debts to him. Then he took out my old man when he couldn't pay the money either. I only escaped because I ran. I hate running." Landing another volley of punches to his captive he smiles cruelly. "I came out here though once I spent some time discovering Patrick's family line. Imagine my surprise to find out, he has a son too. You think he will come and get you?"
"Don't." John barely manages to say. "Don't bring him here."
"Why? Don't you want to see your Daddy? Have a nice reunion. Maybe he can teach me how to make you beg." Grabbing a handful of the agent's hair, he forces him within inches of his face. "I am going to make you beg, O'Doyle. I will make you beg and plead, except it won't be for me to stop. It will be for me to kill you."
"My name's Grant." Is all John says before being slammed against the headboard of the bed. He fights off the memories of his childhood and tries to push past the pain. I can do this. The team will find me and I will take this Son of a Bitch out myself. When the man unbuckles his belt, John feels the nausea hit him. No, please God. Don't let him even think about it.
Seeing the man turn pale, his captor lets out a laugh. "Don't worry boy. I don't plan on that...at least not right now. I'm thinking we have a failure to communicate and since you don't want to talk about your Father, maybe I can make you remember him better by reminding you of those old lessons." Folding the the black leather belt around his hand twice, he looks down at the agent who is staring at him with glaring blue eyes. "Is this what Dad used on you? Hmmm? If not you might want to speak up." When he gets no answer he brings the leather down across John's exposed chest. He'd cut the shirt off of him once he had him cuffed to the bed. The instant red mark falls across the bruising of the rib cage and he smiles at the coloring. "You mark easy, bet that means you're going to beg soon."
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"Any prints from the package?" Bailey demands again, staring at the letter. "Obviously John didn't drop it off himself and he hasn't been gone long enough to have had it mailed. What about phone records?"
"Nothing." George groans as he continues to type into his computer. "A lot of calls, but mostly to women. He received a call from a pay phone about seven-thirty last night. It was short. Maybe 30 seconds, barely enough time to talk."
"30 seconds is plenty of time to check to make sure someone is answering. Home or Cell?" Sam asks, her mind still wrapping around what she saw at the scene and letter she's read nearly 2 dozen times. He has to be sending us some kind of clue. I mean, why would the kidnapper send just a note like this? No ransom demands. No sign of a struggle at the house. John let the person in and left with him. For him to have let him in that means he knew him.
"John knows a lot of people." Bailey offers. "Could a woman have been sent to take him?"
"No, I don't think so. You said he didn't mention a date right? He probably didn't expect anyone showing up. He probably convinced the person to let him write the note so that there wouldn't be suspicion. In fact, he probably even told the guy to make sure he cleaned up the place, knowing it would give us the sign something was wrong. Our best bet is going to be prints." Sam informs them as she re reads the letter.
"Sorry guys, I have to take a break from work for a little bit. Something has come up with the family unexpectedly. John." Sam looks up at Bailey.
"Something has come up with the family? That sounds odd. John doesn't have any family except his Father who he hasn't seen in years. I think he's telling us it has something to do with that."
"Okay, we need all the information we have on John's father and his associates. Anyone who might have a grudge against him based on his family's business. George, were any calls made to his cell phone or from it say 8pm on?" Sam asks.
"Yeah, one call...to Bailey." George replies. "It just showed up. He called your home number, maybe you should check for a message."
Bailey immediately dials his home number and checks the messages. "Bailey, its John. Look, I Can't..Hey Man, just chill I need to break my date..." The message ends and Bailey hangs up. "I wasn't home. Dammit, I never checked the messages last night because I got in so late. It never even occurred to me because it wasn't to my cell. All this time wasted."
"This isn't your fault." Sam informs him. "Okay, so we know it's a guy who took him and John was trying to get a message out pretty early on. What was the exact time of the call?"
"9:15." George answers. "Wait, I think we got something. Someone has been hacking into John's personnel file. I can trace the computer that was used."
"Hurry." Bailey and Sam say in unison.
hr He's been rolled over and stares at the headboard, trying to ignore the pain searing through his body. Again and again the belt falls as the voice taunts him. "You're worthless. Some Detective, you just let me into your house. You wanted to be taken. I think you know you need this lesson." John tries to tune the voice out and close his eyes, but when he does he can see and hear his father.
"No son of mine will be a wimp. You will learn to be a man if I have to kick it into you my self." The feel of his father's hard shoes against his ribs as he cowered on the floor. To scared to even try and get away. His Mother coming in to find her teenage boy is being kicked and yelled at. "Worthless, you're worthless Johnny." His father had yelled before his Mother could stop it.
"Worthless, Johnny." The kidnapper screams as he continues to reign down slaps of the leather against the battered flesh. Blood trickles down his captive's back and he can hear the sobs that are muffled. "Let it out, come on. Beg for it."
I will not beg. John tells himself over and over. He cried to his Father, begged him to stop and vowed he would never beg for anything again. Not after his Mother had to run with him and then she died. I will not beg. Be a man. He tells himself as he tries to hold the agony in. The tears are falling and he can do nothing about it. No matter how hard he fights to keep them at bay, the pain is overwhelming and to his horror he hears the words come out of his mouth in gasping sobs. "Please! Stop, no more, Please."
"Please what?" The abuser yells as he continues the thrashing, beating him harder than before. He is working himself into a frenzy. The sobs, the pleas, music to his ears. He broke him. I broke O'Doyle and now I get to kill him.
"Please, stop. I will tell you anything you want to know." John begs, sobs wracking his body, as the pain grows stronger. He will do anything, anything to end this.
"I want to know where to send your head once I kill you." The man taunts as he drops the belt and kneels down by the bedside, smiling when John turns his tear-streaked face away. "Your father will need proof that payment has been received."
"Payment?" He chokes out.
"Yeah, I figure one dead son will have to be worth my dead father and brother." He looks down at the blood on the bed and sighs. "You really made a mess. Bad Johnny. Very very bad."
"Kill me already." John growls through his pain. "If you really want me dead, just kill me."
"I told you that you'd end up begging for death, but no. Not yet. I'm not finished with you. I don't think I got all that's worth out of you yet." He stands back up and reaches for John's hair, tugging it sharply. "I think I can do a few other things to you that might make you wish for death too." Letting him go he begins to rub at the crotch of his pants. "I got something real special for you, O'Doyle."
"No." John says roughly. "I won't let you." He struggles against the cuffs, ignoring the pain in his body. "Don't do this." When the guys continues to leer at him, the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. "Please, don't do this. Just kill me. Kill me, Please." John begs as he feels the man's finger tips trace over a particularly painful welt.
"Come on, don't you want to have some fun?" The man whispers just before the door to the one room apartment is kicked in and agents storm the place, Bailey is the first in and his stomach lurches when he sees the man hovering over John, Leering at the younger man. The condition of his friend and partner sends his temper flaring into over drive. Blood is splattered on the sheets and John is wearing nothing but some boxers. His back, legs, every inch of flesh that Bailey can see has been beaten and abused. Holding the gun on the assailant, he yells. "Step away from the bed and drop to your knees."
Once the man has been lead away, Bailey orders for an ambulance as he rushes to John's side. "It's going to be okay."
"What took you so long?" John mumbles as he tries to hide his tear stained face, unable to meet Bailey's concerned gaze. His hands drop limply against the bed as the cuffs are taken off and he tries to get up only to have Bailey tell him to stop.
"You need to wait for the ambulance." Bailey informs him.
"I need to get dressed." John mumbles. "No one else from the team is here, right?"
"They are outside." Bailey informs him. "Sam...
"Keep them out!" John demands, jumping up from the bed, ignoring his pain. When he sees Bailey turn away, looking nauseated, he laughs. "See? You can't even stomach it. Hope you weren't hoping the front side would look better. I don't want any of them in here. He looks around for his jeans and hissing through the pain, he pulls them on over his boxers and then sees his ripped shirt and closes his eyes. "You want to help? Tell me this JackAss has a clean shirt in this place."
"John." Bailey says as the younger man pushes past him, wincing as he walks. He grabs a t-shirt that's at least two sizes to big and pulls it over his bloodied body, grimacing when it hits his battered flesh. "John, you have to go to the hospital."
"I'm fine. Just some flesh wounds." John growls, his anger beginning to boil over. "Stop looking at me like that. I don't need your concern or sympathy. I was the idiot who let him take me. I got what I deserved, it won't happen again."
"The ambulance is here." Sam says gently as she enters the room. She immediately sees the blood stains forming on John's clothes and feels her stomach turn. She heard what he just said and realizes that the physical trauma is probably the least of their problems. John actually thinks he deserved this. "I can ride with you if you want."
"I am fine." John lies. "I don't need a Doctor or a Shrink. I just want to get back to work. I'll fill out the police report myself." When he attempts to walk, he feels his knees weaken and grabs on to the wall for support. When she is immediately at his side, he wants to crawl into a hole and die. Samantha is seeing him being weak. Bailey saw everything. They will all know how worthless he really is. "I'm fine." He snaps angrily, pissed off when he can't push her or Bailey away as they try to lead him out of the room. "Get your hands off of me." He growls. "You want me to go to the hospital? Fine. I walk out of here on my own and I ride by myself. Sam, give me a minute with Bailey." When Sam reluctantly leaves his side and he is standing on his own again, he says to his boss. "One word about what that Bastard tried to do to me, and I swear to you.." He grimaces as the pain hits him again.
"John, you need to go to the hospital. We can talk about it in the ambulance." Bailey offers, determined to get the younger agent into the ambulance if he has to carry him there himself. "You're bleeding through your clothes. Come on. You know the faster we get into the ambulance the faster you can demand to be released into your own care."
"You aren't going to drop this are you?" John says in a shallow voice. "Fine, let's go. No one is to know, Bailey. It would have never happened, I wouldn't have let it."
"John, it's going to be okay." Bailey replies as he watches the younger man make it to the ambulance and nearly fall to his knees in agony as he attempts to step inside. He shakes off the EMT's offer of help and pulls himself in. Never even making eye contact with Sam, Grace or George. He doesn't even look at Bailey when his boss climbs in beside him. Lying on his side on the stretcher, he just stares at the floor, trying to push all his memories, old and new, away. If they hadn't gotten there when they did...He shudders to think about what he would have done to attempt to keep the rape from happening. What could I have done? I was cuffed and helpless, hand cuffed with my own set. I bet everyone will get a kick out of that. Tough John Grant stupid enough to get trapped with his own hand cuffs.
"Nobody is to know." John demands again.
"You have to deal with this, John. Obviously some very bad things.." Bailey watches as John begins to hum and tune him out. "John? John? Det. Grant!" He finally says, watching as John snaps his head to look at him. "You have to deal with this."
"I am dealing with it." John answers calmly. "I'll type the report myself. It didn't happen, Bailey. He didn't do anything to me except knock me around a little and that's what happens to people who talk to strangers' right?" The comment is meant as a joke, but he can see it falls on deaf ears. "I am going to have enough psycho babble coming from Sam; I don't need it from you. Just let it go, okay. I said I was fine. It's not like he shot me or anything."
"He just beat the Hell out of you." Bailey grumbles angrily as he looks down at the blood soaked jeans and t-shirt. "You may have more damage than you even realize."
"Naa A few broken ribs and some surface wounds." John replies calmly. "I'll be out in twenty minutes and have the report filed on time. Won't that be nice for change? Looks like we're here, you guys can leave now. I don't want anyone waiting around at the hospital."
"You know that's not going to happen." Bailey assures him. "We're staying until we know you're okay."
"I said I didn't want anyone here and I'm well over the age of 21, so listen to me." John growls as the ambulance door opens. He tries to rise from the stretcher and gives in to lying back down when the pain becomes too much. The EMT's rush him into the ER as Bailey stands by the entrance waiting for Sam, Grace and George. It's only a short wait as they quickly approach.
"How is he?" George asks as the team makes it to the waiting room. Bailey takes the forms from the admitting nurse and starts to fill it out.
"He doesn't want any of us here." Bailey announces, still looking down at the form. "Anyone know who his next of kin should be?"
"One of us." Sam answers. When she sees Bailey put his own name down, she hides a smile. He is in protective Father mode now and the guy who did this will be a lot better off if Bailey stays at the hospital. "Did he tell you anything? He wasn't.."
"No." Bailey snaps and then looks at her apologetically. "Sorry, I guess it's sort of hitting me. He basically says he's fine, doesn't want to talk about it and refuses to allow anyone to help him. He's also placing the blame on himself."
"He's in shock." Sam assures him. "His shell is going to break once everything hits him and then he will need us." Taking Bailey's hand in her own, she squeezes. "We're all going to need each other. John is a part of this team and when one of us is hurting, we all feel it. I'm here if you need to talk."
"I think he's going to need you more, Sam. If John starts to unravel, he's going to have a Hell of a time trusting anyone but you to talk to. Are you going to be able to handle it? You're personally involved." Bailey warns her.
"You went through that door first, knowing you were personally involved. Made yourself next of kin, and yet, you ask if I'm going to be able to handle it? I'm trained to do this, Bailey. Just like you were trained to go through that door. You don't need to worry about me, let's just keep the focus on John, okay?" Sam informs him.