a/n: Here it is! Part one of Anslo Garrick! Happy belated birthday, Elena!
He couldn't believe he was back in the fucking box.
Once upon a time he had sat patiently in his confines, knowing he would soon be released, and willing to suffer through whatever discomfort it took for him to get his way.
But he was only willing to suffer through it once.
And now he was back in the fucking box.
With Donald Fucking Ressler.
The temptation to leave the agent to his own devices was great. Donald Ressler was nothing but a pain in the ass, and his uselessness was truly unprecedented. Still…they were both probably about to die and Red needed to scrounge up good deeds while he had the chance.
Frowning at the pitiful sight of Ressler's leg, Red reached down deep and pulled out the scant amount of emergency medical knowledge he had retained while in service. He couldn't do very much to save the leg, but what he could do was excruciatingly painful.
Time to lodge Ressler's tie firmly between his teeth.
Red had enough distractions without all the excess noise.
His gruesome task done, Red ignored all attempts at conversation by Anslo and focused on the spreading puddle of blood on the floor. He would go ahead with a transfusion, but it was almost certainly pointless. He was 99.9% sure that Donald was going to die anyway. If he could go ahead and do it quietly, that would be real fucking nice.
Red sat in silence while Anslo put every part of his tiny brain to work on trying to get into the box. Explosives seemed to be the only option. Fitting, considering that blowing things up was always one of Anslo's favorite pastimes. In fact, it was one of the many reasons he ended up with a bullet in his head. Most people would learn from that experience, but Anslo took it as a challenge.
Looking down at Ressler to avoid Anslo's unfocused gaze, Red grimaced at the pallor of his skin. The transfusion was only slowing down the inevitable. Without the aid of a surgeon, Donald would die. Feeling the sting of compassion for the fallen man, Red attempted to take both their minds off of what was happening outside the box.
He didn't lie.
There was no need to.
He wanted it all. He wanted the music and the wine and the thrill of having experiences that most men would only dream of having. And some of the basics would be nice too…
"I want the warmth of a woman in a cool set of sheets..."
The words left his mouth and before he knew it his mind had wandered to the one place he had refused to let it wander to since the lights in the black site shorted out.
Lizzie.
It didn't feel right that he would die without having her to himself.
He wanted her with him, nestled between the sheets, waking him up from a long nap with peppered kisses and her body pressed against his.
He wanted to know how her skin smelled slick with sweat and lust and salty against his searching tongue.
He wanted her hand in his once more, gripping him instead of gripping the sheets in ecstasy.
He wanted to know how she felt around him, stealing his very essence and joining it with hers until they were one.
And most of all….
"I want to sleep like I slept when I was a boy. Give me that. Just…one time."
Yes… Red wanted it all, and Anslo Garrick be damned, he would have it.
If only he could make it out of the fucking box.
