Author's Notes: :/ so I was gone for a long while… sorry about that -_- but hey at least I'm not dead :D. But seriously 2011 was a bad year for me. Hopefully 2012 is better… no it will better! .
Enjoy…
Chapter 9
He shook so bad when he finally slammed the bedroom door behind him. He remembered rushing to strip himself of the clothes he was wearing to put on something dry and to hid the knife well… or maybe not so well, but it was out of sight. He had washed his hands, the coat of blackened cells washing away from him in layers. The glossy, gooey, red texture never looked right not on his hands, not on the floor, not on his clothes. The iron smell made him sick, it was thick in his nostrils and the source just wasn't washing away fast enough.
He remembers hearing a commotion just as he reached the top of the stairs but he hadn't turned and looked. It had taken him around one minute to get up, get through the doors and up the stairs without anyone noticing.
Now, he just sat alone in the room curled up into himself knowing there was nothing else he could do to make this better.
The bedroom door swung open and Valcic came in angrily. Don flinched at the sound. His tense muscles wrapped themselves tighter, hugging his knees to his chest. His eyes focused ahead of him to the fireplace. There he had been watching as the bloodied clothes he wore at the party burned into ash.
Maybe Valcic had his suspicion, maybe he didn't. Either way he marched straight to Don and smacked him across the face with the back of his fist.
Don didn't bother to look up from that. His fingers felt at the knot already forming under his flesh, prodding it carefully. He panted as the adrenaline rushed in.
The chair creaked as Valcic leaned his weight on the armrest putting himself at Don's level. Approximating the distance between their faces but Don had yet to bother and face him.
"Do you owe me an explanation?" He hissed out spitting unconsciously as he spoke.
"No," Don said his voice barely reaching higher than a whisper.
A hand tangled itself in Don's hair, fist closing in to get a tight, good hold pulling him to face up and with Valcic's other hand was smacked once again. The second hit held more anger than the first and he could feel where blood trail down from the broken skin on his newly bruised cheek. Don's pants became deeper. His tense muscles now shook from the pent up adrenaline, rage and fear.
"Look at me, Don," Valcic spat.
Don gulped and held no hesitation as he turned to look up at Valcic, his heart in his throat, his hands in fists.
"Do you know whose laying on my Library floor, right now, DEAD?"
Don watched Valcic's anger, raised, intimidating. He yelled out his words, emphasizing it graveness, forcing fear, forcing an answer out of him: Bad cop move. But as much as the answer was yes Don tightened his jaw and shook his head no. Valcic's interrogation tricks were something he knew how to easily navigate around.
Don looked convincing. Despite that, Valcic didn't hold himself back from giving Don another on the same cheek. This time Don spat blood out and he didn't look up not from defiance but from the pain still radiating mercilessly from his raw cheek bone. It took him a bit to realize Valcic was yelling something else at him, the ringing in his ears slowly started to lessen just in time to catch the end of Valcic's speech.
"-you will be sorry if I find out it was you."
Don heard him move away and yet his muscle remained tense, his teeth so tightly closed he feared breaking them under the pressure but he could hardly get himself to relax. On shaky legs he got up to get a small towel from one of the closet to wipe off the blood from his face with and went to sit on bed next to his pillow. He looked down at it knowing what was hidden under it, only barely starting to relax when he finally let his head rest on it.
…
"You couldn't wait till we got to the toilet to puke your brains out?" Ian asked annoyed as he looked around the perimeter. Don was making a lot of noise.
"Shut-up," Don said in between heaves. He was hunched over a bush a few doors from the room Ian had just got them.
"What is going on out here?" A lady said as she stepped out of her room, her eyes wide as she examined the scene.
"Nothing, ma'am," Ian said apologetically to the elderly woman dressed in a knight rob and bunny slippers.
"This doesn't sound like nothing," she said a little angered and testy.
"My friend here is feeling a little under the weather, ma'am,"
"Maybe you should take him to the hospital."
"Thanks, ma'am, I will, ma'am."
"No, don't do that," Don quickly protested. "I'm good, I'm good,"
"O, good," Ian said as he pulled Don up by the arm, helping him straighten up and gave the woman a cheesy smile. "See, all good,"
She gave them a look of being unconvinced. "Okay, but if I hear anymore trouble I'll be forced to call the cops." Don snorted in drunken laughter and the woman suddenly looked offended. "Something funny?"
"No, nothing at all," Ian said his cheesy smile still forcefully in place as he shoved Don along. "Good night, ma'am. You won't hear from us again tonight, goodnight."
"I think I'm… I think I'm gonna be sick, again," Don said as he place a hand over his mouth.
Ian groaned in annoyance and he pulled Don along.
…
Don watched Valcic pace up and down the dinning room. A hand held over his forehead and the other he held his cell phone in place next to his ear. "Yes… yes… I understand… yes…" he said into the phone as he bobbed his head. "I know, we're just going to have to find a way around this… I know he had a vital roll… no I have yet to discover who killed him," Valcic said as his eyes jumped from the floor to land on Don. Don quickly looked away, his eyes falling onto his plate as he poked and prodded his breakfast that he had yet to taste.
Don had tried his best not to feel at his bruised face in front of Valcic knowing the satisfaction it gave the man at know it still stung with every twitch of his muscles. But if anything this whole assortment of the situation has alleviated him of any nightly torture Valcic would have as a punishment for him. In fact, Valcic had hardly come to the bedroom the entire week. Don would hear him enter at the early morning, jump into the shower and start a new day. Valcic's new nightly ritual would be slaving away at his library. The same room Joel Murray was slayed in. The same room Don used to kill the man. But Don didn't like the ironic turn. As Valcic slaved away every night, burying his nose in his work, his new allegiance with Eller and Brown corp. Don would ponder away night after night fingering away at the knife under his pillow and wake up every morning at hearing Valcic enter with the knife's handle held tightly around his fist. Only able to wish having Valcic lower his guard to use it on him.
That morning was the first that Don hadn't heard Valcic enter the bedroom. He hadn't even felt it as Valcic sat next to Don on the mattress. His hand still loosely held the handle of the knife when lips pressed into his own and a hand caressed the side of his face.
Don's heart practically jumped out of his chest as his hand quickly let go of the object and slid away from under the pillow. He could feel Valcic's tongue press against his lips and he let him in, gapping his mouth open as his heart pounded away at his chest. At first Don made no attempt in putting any real effort in that kiss and instead left it all up to Valcic how passionate this morning torture would be but suddenly Valcic was getting caught up in the heat of the moment. His fingers had wrapped themselves in Don's fingers and he began to pull their hands upward moving their way under his pillow and sure enough Valcic's hand would soon bump into the object Don was hiding there if Don hadn't suddenly pushed his head up, putting pressure into their hot lips, joining in the passion even as disgust whirled in Don's stomach as he did.
Valcic groaned. Don's hands didn't have a hard time releasing themselves from Valcic's hold after. Once free Don had placed a hand on Valcic's face simultaneously pulling him in closer and pushing himself up forcing Valcic away from the pillow. Don kissed back for a bit longer before he couldn't anymore and he turned away from it. His head down and bowed and he gasped for air feeling horrible and cheap about the whole thing.
Valcic leaned down into the nook of Don's neck, licking and planting kisses there until he had traveled up to Don's ear. He played with Don's earlobe. Flicking it and sucking it. Don's head pushed in closer at the sensation rather more shielding himself from the wet assault of the slimy muscle having his way with that small piece of flesh hanging from the side of his head than actually from enjoying it. Valcic felt this. He pulled away and looked Don over. Sure enough Don looked shielded, scared of moving forward: a virgin tentative of losing his virginity… or so it seemed.
Valcic didn't think he'd enjoy this as much as he was. He placed a hand over Don's shoulders and rubbed at them comfortingly feeling as Don tensed against his touch instead of relaxing. "I can wait until you're more comfortable about this," he said as he kept rubbing pausing only to lean in close and plant a few kisses along Don's Jaw. "But I don't know how long I can keep waiting."
Don thought about the knife under his pillow for a while and then thought better of it. The movement of the mattress told him Valcic had finally stood. "Get dressed and join me for breakfast," he ordered as he walked out.
…
Ian locked the door behind him and quickly made his way to the window, peaking through the blinds before shutting them properly. He made a quick run to the bathroom to shut the window there, too, coming back with a bucket in hand and placing it on the floor in between the two beds in the room. Don had already found the closest bed as he came in and had fallen face down on it.
"Eppes," Ian shook at his leg as he called out his name hoping for a quick reaction, any reaction just to know he isn't dead yet. "Eppes," he said again shaking him a little more roughly. Finally, Ian heard a muffled groan coming form Don and he relaxed a bit. "Brought you a bucket," Don groaned again and Ian sighed.
"Eppes," Ian said as he rolled the man over on his back and got him to sit up on the edge of the bed. "Hey, how are you feeling? Sick? Anything?"
Don shoved at the hands pulling at his jacket. "Yeah, I'm good." Don twisted his body to fall back down on the mattress but Ian still held on to his jacket. Somehow Ian had managed to get it off over Don's shoulders unaware that he was trapping Don's arms close to his body.
Don's heart began to race at feeling this. The proximity of each man to one another made Don's mouth run dryer than it already felt. "Stop," he said softly, still in a drunk faze but he began to feel a little more sobered up as the small excess trickle of adrenaline started to join his bloodstream.
The hands didn't quite stop at that and Don begun to put up a small resistance as his jacket continued to be tugged at.
"STOP!" Don finally erupted. The hands on him stopped just as quickly, no longer did they work to strip him from his jacket. Still, Don panted lightly, his eyes wide and staring back at Ian.
Ian stared back. He was taken by surprise at the emotion behind that yell and he remained speechless as he watched Don breathing heavily and especially by the look in Don's eyes. He could see that look of fear swirling around in darkness of his eyes and within it he could also see that pained look of betrayal and confusion as if convinced that Ian might actually be capable of doing something like that.
Don quickly was on his feet, rushing to the door, his hands just as quick and desperate around the knob of the door, turning, pulling the door just barely become ajar when a hand came up from behind him, the palm pushing on the wooden surface until the door slammed closed with an unpleasant sound that made the hairs behind Don's neck stand on end.
"Ian," he said slowly, not looking back knowing Ian still stood there, the other man's hand still placed firmly on the door keeping it from swinging open again. "Let me out."
"Can't," he said apologetically, wanting to push Don away from the door and look him face to face stopping only when reminded of Don's previously reaction to being touched.
"Ian," Don warned.
"Sorry, Eppes, can't let you out like this."
He heard Don sigh, sounding almost defeated, as his hand let go of the door knob. It made Ian feel a bit guilty at the relief he felt from that.
"I'm not trying to scare you, Eppes," Ian said. Don huffed out a small laugh.
"Good," Don said taking a few steps back building the distance between them, carefully watching as Ian brought his hand down from the door and locked it. "What do you want, Ian?"
"Nothing," Ian said but Don gave him a hard look. "I just want you to sleep this night off. The jacket stays on if you want."
Don growled under his breath in frustration and a little in shame and moved to sit on a bed, his head falling to rest at the palms of his hands, putting pressure at his eyes in a futile attempt to push away the fatigue and dizziness… and queasiness. He felt paranoid. Ian… this was Ian he was with for crying out loud. He couldn't explain to himself why he was feeling the way he was.
"Fine," he said after a while. He didn't want to think to hard into this. Not with the headache he was beginning to feel. He crawled over on the bed till he reached a pillow. Pulling it out from under the sheets he hugged it close to himself, placing his head over it. His eyes shut, but his brows were furrowed from the lingering displeasure he felt from the whole situation. "Jacket stays on," Don felt stupid and pathetic saying that but hoped the drunkenness made up for his lack of care.
…
Valcic hung the phone up and finally took his seat in front of his breakfast, his eyes never leaving Don. Don challenged the stare but only for so long before something in Valcic's made him give. His eyes traveled down to his own breakfast and kept them there until Valcic decided to speak.
"To bad," he began. Don looked over giving him his undivided attention knowing that's what he wanted. "Joel Murray's killer is still at large. Unjustified. Don't you agree?"
Don gave him the nod of his head and Valcic smiled back at that.
A maid working around the house was finishing going through her morning chores when she caught Valcic's attention. "Mary-Sue," he called out to her.
She turned around a bit skeptically knowing that was not her name but responded anyways seeing no other around he could be referring to. Don recognized her. She lived here like the other few maids that worked here did. Probably slave workers, Don always assumed. None ever spoke to him probably under orders. None ever even looked at him even when in the same room. Even now, the woman's eyes kept glued to the floor in a bow of her neck though she faced forward towards Valcic. "Yes, sir," she responded softly.
"Are the bags packed and ready to go?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Nice to see some good, hard working people get the job done right," Valcic said cheerily. "You deserve a reward."
"Thank you, sir," she said her hands coming to hold her skirt in a bunch in her fists.
"Stay for a minute, Mary-Sue,"
"Yes, sir,"
"I'm a hard worker," Valcic confessed turning to look back at Don. "My father was a hard worker. Just look at what we have accomplished. But that's irrelevant, right now. I'm in the verge of losing my deal with Eller and Brown corp. because someone decided to kill my partner at my own party. With him dead they don't think I can handle the task in hand without him. And how could they not? He has years of experience over me. How do you think I can prove to them I can, Don? You're a smart man."
"I don't know," Don was doing pretty well at keeping his answers simple, expressing nothing of what how he truly felt. The words he truly wanted to say locked behind his tight jaw.
"Don, think a bit harder. How about if I give him the man who murdered Joel Murray? Hm? Do you think that would be enough to convince them?"
Don didn't know what to say to that. He just stared back at Valcic basically speechless.
"Okay, good. I didn't hear an objection." Valcic said getting up on his feet as he once again began to pace. "So, first thing is first. How do we find out who killed him?" He turned to Don waiting for an answer knowing he wasn't going to get one. "C'mon, Don, teach this uneducated man something about being an FBI agent." Valcic pleaded. By now Valcic had mad his way to him, sliding a chair over to take a seat right next to him.
Don looked him square in the eye, watching him carefully, feeling this wasn't going to end well. That crazed look in Valcic's eyes told him as much.
"Motive!" Valcic said loudly banging on the table with his palm. Both Don and Mary-Sue flinched at hearing it. "Motive," Valcic said a bit more calmly. "We're looking for someone who had motive to kill him, aren't we, Don? Who hated his guts enough to do it?"
Don licked his lips, feeling his mouth run dry but said nothing. He just kept his eyes focused on Valcic.
"WHO, DON?" He yelled, getting up on his feet and smacking both his palms on the table as he did.
Don flinched so visibly Valcic had to pull him back by the arm to keep the distance between them exact.
"Umm," Don began shakily, his eyes moving around the room as he thought of a proper answer. "His enemies," he spoke giving it a second before adding. "Your enemies."
"Good, we're making progress, Don," Valcic said taking his seat once again. "So, now I make a list of all the enemies Joel Murray and I had at this party." Valcic gave it a quick thought. "That would have to be at least half of the people here. Any way to narrow that down, Don?"
Don hated the way Valcic was saying his name. Accusingly, almost. Bitter, but satisfied as if angered though knowing he'd get his sweet vengeance soon. He gulped as Valcic stared deep into his eyes, as if Valcic was digging for the truth there. All Don could do was try to keep the lie alive for now.
Valcic laughed mockingly making Don's brows furrow in the confusion. "I just thought of a joke." He said a smile in place as he showed of two straight rows of pearly-white teeth. "How many FBI agents does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
Valcic waited for Don to respond and when he didn't get one he placed a hand on one of Don's knees giving it a small rub. "Guess," he said calmly.
"One," Don responded logically.
"Guess again," Valcic said leaning back on his chair his lips tweaked at one end as if feeling clever and proud of himself.
"I don't know," Don said annoyed, he hated this joke already. "How many?"
"I don't know either, Don. How many does it take to find the one that got lost looking for the light bulb?" Valcic said caustically, his voice smooth as he slowly released the incisive words from his venomous tongue.
Valcic released a throaty chuckle at seeing the disgusted, pained look on Don's face. "C'mon, Don, laugh. It was pretty funny."
Don just wanted to punch the fucking lights out of the man. He could feel his breathing become shallow as he tried to control the anger and every other emotion welling inside. His sight dropped to his knees as he shook his head, protesting the words ringing true at the back of his mind because deep down he knew he had heard himself think almost the same thing before. Why the fuck hadn't they showed up yet? Why the fuck is he still here?
Valcic leaned forward to place his hand on Don's knee again but Don quickly jerked it away. His arms now tightly crossed over his chest protectively and Valcic would have felt sorry for him if he hadn't been enjoying it so much, maybe a little too much.
"Opportunity," Valcic began again. "Opportunity is one right, Don?" he didn't wait for Don to respond as he continued in a muse like state. "But everyone here had opportunity including you," Valcic carefully eyed Don after saying this and was disappointed at the lack of transparency he was witnessing.
"But it wasn't you, was it, Don? After all, I did tell you not to leave my side" This time as he leaned forward he managed to grab Don by the knee giving it a tight squeeze. "And I expect you not to fall anywhere short from obedient."
"So what do you say, Don. Does this disqualify you as a suspect?"
Don's eyes flicked up to him but said nothing. Valcic gave him another confident smile. "If not, I'm sure the next one will."
"What was the last one?" Valcic said almost musing to himself. "Mean," he finally said as he snapped his finger.
"Mary-Sue," Valcic called out to the woman still patiently standing where Valcic had left her.
"Yes, sir."
"How many people have access to the kitchen's broader, sharper utensils?" He asked quickly adding, "Murray was murder by a long, broad knife," making sure Don was getting the whole picture.
"Just us, your maids, sir," she said with a shaky voice.
"Good, thank you, Mary-Sue. That really slims things down for us. Doesn't it, Don? Now, I'm sure it wasn't you," Valcic said and Don looked back distrustfully keeping his eyes on Valcic as the other man stood from his seat and mad his way to shaking Mary-Sue.
"An eye for an eye," Valcic said his sight back on Don. "That's justifiable," he continued as he materialized a gun from the inside of his suit jacket and pointed it straight at the maid. "Agree, Don?"
"Stop," Don said, his eyes now wide.
"Do you have something to add?" Valcic asked with a smirk as the woman next to him began to sob loudly.
Don's arms no longer crossed over his chest instead his hands grabbed tightly at the edge of his chair. His nails digging into the glossy finish as his mind tried to work out his own controversy. To preserve his lie or save her life? He hated that it had to come down to this, again.
"That doesn't make any sense?" Don finally spoke his mind.
"How?" Valcic tested.
"You can't convict her of this crime only by these three things. You need proof she actually did it. None of them is legitimate proof," Don said flabbergasted.
Valcic smiled brighter than Don had seen him smile the entire morning. "What would be legitimate proof?" Valcic said lowering his weapon. The woman sobbed in relief.
"Um," Don said a bit jumbled, feeling relief also pour into him like water on a hot day. "A confession, finding the weapon with prints of the perp., um-"
Valcic turned to the lady and signaled her to leave before tuning to face Don. "I believe you," he finally said.
"What?" Don asked a little confused and taken back.
"I don't think you did it."
Don gulped hard at this revelation not really sure of how to react.
…
The headache was all he could feel as he slowly moved into consciousness. He had a foul taste in his mouth and he felt completely thirsty. Slowly he rolled himself over, pushing away the pillow, and sat himself up his heart skipping a beat at seeing a figure sitting on a chair just across of him.
"Ian," Don said finally remembering the previous night though trying to keep the embarrassing moments a foggy thing in his head but failing to despite that. "Get any sleep?" he asked trying to make this morning a little more bearable.
"No," Ian quickly said, "Considering you puke on my bed."
Don sighed placing a hand over his forehead hating to remember that and mostly hating he had done that to begin with. "Sorry about that," he finally said getting up off the mattress and began to make his way to the bathroom to let go of some excess liquid and rinse his mouth.
"It's okay. I wasn't planning on sleeping anyways," Ian said as he watched this continuing only when he noticed Don had left the bathroom door ajar. "It's a good thing you did," he said.
"O yeah. Why's that?" Don said as he stumbled a bit when he stepped out of the bathroom.
"Or else I wouldn't have found this."
Don turned around expecting to see before hand exactly what he saw at turning. Ian held Don's weapon up. The one Don had bought no to long ago from that alley merchant. Ian passively held it as if examining it and without pointing it at him.
"Not FBI issued, good feel," Ian said dismissively. "Why do you have it?" He said much more curiously.
Don seemed hesitant to answer and frankly very, deeply annoyed that Ian had discovered it. "Give it back," he demanded calmly.
"Don't feel like sharing," Ian actually looked a little hurt by this as he said it. He stood tossing the gun to him and Don caught it with a little effort. "That's fine," he continued as he slipped his jacket on. "You're going to need it."
Don saw this thankful that Ian had not pressed on and curious to find out what he meant by what he said last but only waited patiently to hear Ian say it knowing that he would.
"No more binge drinking, Don," Ian said as he swung open the door. "I wasn't the only one following you last night," And with that Ian disappeared behind the door.
Author's Notes: Review please… please please please… … … please please please…! I'll stop now… -_-
